The great thing about writing a blog, as opposed to a newspaper column, or an editorial, is that when you can’t be arsed, you don’t have to. One of the many bad things about our papers is that there are too many columnists with not enough to say, and it is so obvious when they can’t be arsed either, but they still have to fill that bloody space.

Anyway, today I’m a bit knackered and in a foul mood and I can’t be arsed. I thought about writing a piece about Barack Obama and wishing the Democrats well in tomorrow’s mid-terms, but I know my place well enough to know that is not exactly going to turn the tea party tide that appears to be running against him. I thought about doing a thing on Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert following their excellent rally to promote a bit of reason and commonsense in what passes for media debate in the US. I thought about doing something on the quite interesting Times leader on the subject, which I for one took as a bit of a gentle whack at the Foxisation of Sky News. But I managed to say that in a tweet, and I can’t be arsed to say any more on the subject. (Btw, the overwhelming vote of twitter followers, Facebook friends and website posters was for me to take part in the C4 documentary which intends to include my spat with Adam Boulton as one of the funniest moments of the year, so consider it done).

But it being Monday, something makes me feel really bad about feeling so lazy about what to put up here. So I intend to rely on my old favourite, football, and let you see the piece I have done for Norwich City FC website to promote an event I am doing there on Friday for Delia (one of those rare people known to one and all by first name alone).

If you can be arsed to click on it, you will see that it is about football superstition, but I will totally understand if you can’t. I’m feeling very Bob Geldof these days. I’ll be fine by Delia’s Friday nosh-up.