Monday, 12 October 2009


Since my last entry, I have descended rapidly into a downward spiral of acute alcohol intoxication. However, may I just say (as most alcoholics do) that it is not entirely all my fault, but that of society and some enablers posing as friends.

I left you last with a tantalizing tit-bit about a curry stained woman so now I’ll regale you with the true details of that fateful night.

My dear friend Andi came to visit last week as he was holiday from the joyess (optional l) Belford Hospital in Fort William. On the Tuesday night we decided to go to a pub quiz to flex our general knowledge know how. Many of you know I am keen pub quizzer and on several occasions have actually done quite well. However, our feeble attempt in the Regent pub in Edinburgh was so shaming that I feel I may finally have to accept the fact that on the occasions I did perform well in quizzes, my eldest brother was there and it was in fact his general knowledge genius that got us through. Andi and I scored a dismal 23% questions right , but I must also inform you this was a gay pub quiz and the vast majority of the questions were homosexually inclined. No, not a round on cock rings, but several questions of ‘name that tune’ for Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. Now, despite being a gay man, Andi was useless at this round apart from the one song from Evita that he knew form the opening two notes. For the rest of the questions we put 'Cats’. We knew one of the answers must have been ‘Cats’ and we were right, one was. However, after that round we did descend in to mild silliness and whenever we didn’t know the answer the then put ‘Cats’.

Question: What won the Nobel Prize in 1901?
Our Answer: Cats
Real Answer: The Red Cross

Question: Who hosted the Winter Olympics in 1998?
Our Answer: Cats
Real Answer: Japan

And so on. The team next to us who marked our answers were literally falling about laughing at our utter stupidity. Oh well.
After the quiz was over, we decided to drown our sorrows with one more cider and moved to a delightful little table with wing back chairs. We were just finishing off when a woman in late fifties, pulled a chair up next to us. This in itself would have been slightly unusual, but the lady was also hideously inebriated and covered in what I can only guess was curry. I mean covered. This peculiar textured yellowish material was covering her entire white t-shirt and black trousers, it was very off-putting. She was so intoxicated that after sitting down next to us, she didn’t speak, instead she gently picked up my hand, kissed it, and then did the same to Andi. It was all rather disturbing. We looked around to see who this lady could have possibly been frequenting the bar with, but we couldn’t see anyone desperately trying to locate a drunken curry stained woman. She then began to ‘sing’ along with the background music and we were at a loss about what to do. Andi in a brave and masculine move, went to the toilet and left me alone with her, just because he found it amusing. I did not. I tried a basic conversation with the lady ‘are you here yourself’ and ‘yes, it’s a nice song isn’t it’, but to no end. When Andi returned from his fake errand to the loo, I stood up and we left, leaving the curry stained pensioner to her beautiful rendition of Sex is on Fire by the Kings of Leon.

To conclude my alcohol miss-judgements, I went out for dinner last night with Gordon and Laura who were visiting for the night. In usual Gordon style, we had copious amounts of wine with a rather splendid meal. On my return, I got a phone call from a friend and decided it would be a marvellous idea to cook dinner for him on Thursday. I can’t cook. I’m most concerned it could be end of a promising friendship.

I should swear off booze I think for a while, but alas it’s Lori’s hen party on Saturday and I feel it’s my duty to indulge. So you see its society and my friends and families fault.
It’s absolutely nothing to do with me.

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