More of the obvious

Alcohol is bad for you.

"I'll just go for one drink," I said. "Won't be home late," I said.

So how exactly did I come to be waking up on Saturday morning, still drunk, with the knowledge that I had given everyone I work with* an intense back rub, possibly bitten one of them (memory's a little hazy on this point...) been kicked out of two pubs** — and now I had to get out of bed, clean the house and throw a party?

Alcohol is fun.

Officially a braai is all about devouring enough dead cow to feed a village. Traditionally it's also about the beer. But at Chez Scroobious, it's largely about the pitchers of gin and elderflower. Cue startled ejaculations: "What have you put in the water?!"

Keep pouring. Stand back and watch the conversation reach new elevations of absurdity. (Did you know that the 9th Commandment was "Thou shalt not adulterate lemmings?" I have it on the very best authority. Also, the airport at Zurich is named Testicles.***)

Expensive alcohol is more fun and less bad...

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an imbiber of gin will soon wax lachrymose. It has occurred to me, though, that this hasn't happened for a while. Since... mm... since about when I stopped drinking any gin that isn't Bombay Sapphire, in fact. Most excellent discovery! It tastes exquisite, it smells amazing and it is depressant-free. How cunning!

...but even the nicest alcohol will have after-effects.



And then I had to make lunch for my dad and his new husband.****

PS. Big warm hugs to my lovely, lovely guests. Especially the unexpected ones. I like to think that if it weren't for that last train issue, we could have all still been in the garden, and that would be fine with me.

_____
* Or at least, those of them who had come out.
** Because they were closing. Not because we were so badly behaved. Honest.
*** That part is actually true. Sort of.
**** I really haven't been keeping the record up to date, have I?