8: Alcohol

I will be the first person to admit that there is a side of alcohol that I do actually like. It's not along the lines of it getting me drunk - I haven't had a drink since the age of 20 and I don't miss that at all. I used to drink quite a bit - some people know this, some people who have known me for a while are probably more unaware. To cut a long story short, I used to love a drink. But I would drink on my own in my bedroom, peeling wallpaper from my walls and writing Belle and Sebastian lyrics on them whilst being half emo, half nerd and feeling sorry for myself whilst trying to perform the highest possible combo on Killer Instinct. Trust me, that's not an easy couple of things to juggle when you've drunk a bottle of Asda own-brand vodka.

As I was a lone drinker I've never had the pleasure of going out and getting drunk with my friends. When I see documentaries about binge drinking teenagers in faceless northern towns I feel a pang of jealousy. I've never gone out, drunk twenty pints and then flashed my arse at a policeman whilst unbelievably still eating a kebab. So I feel I've missed out on a large part of what makes the British, well, British. I'm more akin to someone from Finland. Bookish, rarely awake during the sunny daylight hours, likely to drink large amounts of vodka in a room full of pine furniture whilst listening to black metal and liable to end up as a corpse on a train track.

The saddest part of this is that I have friends who have known me for eons and have always expressed a desire to see me drunk without realising that there is a mathematical certainty that they have - presuming they knew me before May 25th 1998. That said, I've been out socially drinking with most of them since - just with me enjoying my poison of caffeine and sugar instead. Or Nandos. I love that Piri Piri shit.

As I started discussing before my explanatory diversion, there are aspects of drinking that I really, genuinely love.

A: Comedy Audiences Drinking

If people didn't drink then I would be considerably less amusing. On many days I remain not-all-that amusing anyway, dependent on what side of bed I woke up on. Which is a bizarre phrase in itself. I always tend to wake up on my front, looking like I've been dropped from the ceiling (in the position Johnny Depp died in from A Nightmare on Elm Street) onto the left hand side of my lumpy old bed.

Any comedian will tell you that a mildly hammered audience is great fun. They seem to like me considerably more when they've been binge drinking for the last day or so and smell of blackcurrent and amyl nitrate. I applaud the people of Britain for drinking and coming to watch comedy. Do please carry on.

B: Nights Out

The few that I have, I enjoy. I like being the sober one who can remind people what happened to them when they awake the following morning face-down in a knockoff deep-fried chicken box. With a wing bone in their ear and smushed-in chips and ketchup on their carpet.

The only real issue I have is that I can't nor do I want to dance. So, dear friends, enjoy your drinks. But please do not drag me towards a dancefloor if "Horny" by Mousse T starts pumping over the sound system.

However, there are some things that I hate with a venom that would rival some kind of sick hybrid Scorpion-Spider-Cobra. A Scoridra.

1: Breast-Flashing Girls

Let me clear two things up. I like girls. I am also fond of breasts. I'm less fond of mine, although they are both pert and ample. When I was doing all my journo bollocks in my early twenties (not in THE early twenties, they were too busy with the charleston) I would find that flashing a camera around in your average meat-market nightclub would yield countless - let's just call them slags - whacking their funbags out presuming I was a talent scout for Loaded. Novelty wise, this was entertaining for the first couple of times it happened. When you're faced with a constant stream of orange-faced harlots with broken shoes and cheap dresses made of Rayon then it gets old fast. I wish they made dresses out of crayons though, that would kick ass.

2: Groups of People Drinking and Acting Like They're In a War

Here's the thing. You might have decided to go out on a night out with 5 of your closest friends. And that's cool, bonding is nice be you male or female. That's what your night out is all about - having fun, laughing at stupid stuff and thinking that crisps count as a meal. You are not in an elite fighting squadron in Vietnam. If someone chooses to go home early, they are not some kind of conscientious objector. If someone passes out, they are not a casualty of war. If you are one of the last two people left out, you're not some kind of elite hardcore unit. Although more AK47s would make the average Saturday night way more interesting for me as an observer.

3: Wine Twats

The way I see it, there are two types of wine.

RED - Tastes like vinegar
WHITE - Tastes like battery acid

I could try and parlay my immense knowledge into a TV series where I travel the globe talking about the subtle strains of elderberries in one particular bottle of french-made plonk, but I find my method of identification much easier.

And Rose is merely for people who want a drink that is less vinegary and acidic but still tastes like a waste of time. But it's pink! Ooh, pretty. No. Jordan is pink, and she looks like a pneumatic unicorn.

4: People Claiming to Like the Taste of Booze

Following on from my previous point - I have many friends who claim to enjoy the taste of alcohol. They don't. They associate the taste of alcohol with being drunk and happy and that's perfectly fine. But imagine if alcohol had none of these effects, or if medicine tasted like lager or gin. We'd all hate it.

I reckon saying you like booze for the way it tastes is akin to enjoying sex because of the faces it makes you pull.

Of course, this is all just rambling from me. I get like this when I'm pissed. I also have my breasts pressed against the glass of my front window as a lady walks past with a Labrador.

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