I may be some time...

So I don't usually stoop to autobiography, but I'm facing a possibly blog-threatening event, and figured if it came to the worst, there should be a record. Some of my bestest friends constitute a "wine society" where we mostly gather to be humiliated at the abilities of the minority who taste wines with any sophistication, and enjoy each others' company. But not all of us even like wine that much - some of us mostly like each other. So there have been occasions where a few fortifying margaritas have kicked off proceedings, and for some time rumblings about a meeting focused on other booze.

Friday night is a cocktail evening. There's already a bewildering and lethal list forming, not to mention reckless talk of consuming digrizfizzes, and even "Swagger Slings". The latter contains:

1 bottle champagne
1 bottle claret
1 glass brandy
1 glass Grand Marnier
lemon
sugar
no ice

Apparently (quoting Kingsley Amis, whose "Everyday Drinking" I am ... er ... working my way through) the Swagger Sling tends to "put young ladies completely at their ease".