Between having a week’s holiday of debauchery and drinking and getting the Mexican version of the GI jumpsy-wumpsies I decided to lay off booze until the Blogger Jamboree in March. I have removed myself from wickedness.

One of Life’s ironies is I have never fallen over while tipsy** but once upon a time while loaded on Fiji Water I have fallen flat on my face. Once while wearing a long bathrobe with a trailing tie I tripped going upstairs. I spilled the tray I was carrying.  Had I had a drink this would not have happened. For one thing I wouldn’t have been hungry so I wouldn’t have had the tray. For another thing when I am mellow-yellow I am much, much more careful. Anyone who is accustomed to wearing a bathrobe while three sheets to the wind knows perfectly well in order to ascend stairs you have to hoist up your skirts as it were and go carefully. Normally I do this when I have had a jigger of bourbon, but that time, sober as a judge, I didn’t.

This doesn’t have much to do with the title of this entry, I confess, but the bathrobe-tray-trip occurred while thinking about a friend.  Some my friends see pink elephants when having a tipple. I think about aardvarks whenever I have a snout full.  Aardvarks never fall over or up the stairs. Nor do they drink for that matter, but they do have marvelous snouts. This entry doesn’t seem to be going anywhere so I better stop. Obviously I am behind in my drinking.


**Or if I have I don’t remember.