Last weekend we had a cocktail party to celebrate my birthday. A whole day's preparation in the kitchen paid off with an evening of music, dancing, conversation and carousing - not to mention drinking.
My favourite quote was from my friend Jo who suddenly 'had to go'. I blame the Long Island Iced Tea - always a favourite of hers, which seems to use every spirit in the cupboard and results in a murky brown colour.
She blames the blow job (Bailey's/banana liqueur/kahlua - "if only the real thing tasted as good"). In the interests of gender equality/marital harmony, I also offered one to both of our husbands.
Jo spent the entire next day on the sofa, unable to move. She was puzzled as to why she felt so rough - "It's not like I mixed my drinks; I stuck to cocktails all night!"
Perhaps she should have heeded Humphrey Bogart's (alleged) last words; "I never should have switched from Scotch to martinis."