The other night – I embarrassed myself. I blame Rum, and my parents for giving me genes that are crap at holding alcohol, and peer pressure, and the government, and the fact that shot glasses hold more that one measure of alcohol. And celebrity culture for telling me that binge drinking is cool, and the Alistair Darling for causing a recession and raising the price of food so that I didn’t eat anything before drinking.
I blame English working culture, and the many more hours that we work than other European countries, meaning that I was over tired. It was really the fault of magazines for telling me how many calories there are in alcohol, and making me feel too guilty to eat as well.
I blame the game of ‘Challenge’ and international drink rules. I blame the makers of Captain Morgan’s spiced for making it taste too good and those of Pepsi for providing the mixer. Secretly it is very much the fault of make-up companies who make lip gloss, which encourages girls to drink through a straw and therefore quicker than merely sipping out of a glass. I blame the last person who annoyed me and made me turn to alcohol as a means to drown out the pain, and those who made me laugh meaning that I forgot to pace myself.
I blame the war on terror, and the conflict in the middle east. I blame the fact that I couldn’t get tickets to the new Matthew Borne ballet that I really wanted to go and see, and that I missed seeing Wall-E at the cinemas and feel left behind in contemporary culture. I blame the fact that it was raining when I wanted it fine, and that my hair went all frizzy.
So you see boys and girls – I cannot be held accountable. Or made to clean up the next day…
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