I am not I hasten to say a soak. Getting pissed is not a past time. It is merely something that happens now and again.
And after careful scientific process over the last three months I can now categorically announce that it takes 2 and a half glasses to get me to the tipping point.
One and a half glasses and I merely happy and in control but one more and I am not safe to drive.
Three glasses and Darling however much I seem to be suggesting that Nirvana is here and waiting for you, I hate to say it but I am too far gone to take part let alone remember in the morning.
I swear when I was younger I was not nearly so weak but numerous pregnancies, two boys and a few years past my fortieth and well let’s just say I am beginning to know my limits especially as a new term dawns and I have to get up to do the school run.
I still love the old vino and I am particularly fond of anything with a bit of a fizz however these days I have to pace myself and take care.
Long gone are the days when Whisky Macs were my staple diet interspersed with Marlborough Lights and Pot Noodles.
Nowadays it is a healthy diet that must suffice no fags, little whisky and certainly no pot noodles!