My promised bottle of wine didn’t appear last night, alas. I had a beer in the afternoon and was violently ill so I thought I’d better not. Hopefully I’ll be able to drink soon, I’ve got some good stuff planned for chrimbo.
I am an terribly charming loony, supremely well-endowed with epidemiology and wine qualifications, who has finally found that severe PTSD, Generalised Anxiety Disorder and chronic psychosis are, on one of my all too rare good days, only a moderate impediment to having crazy fun with wine and food. Catch me outside and I am liable to be loudly attired.