I go round to the fabulouos bachelor pad of a minor celebrity. I am there to laugh at badly-made fan films with very clever people. We discover minor celebrity has made his wine glasses by washing out nutella pots.
I persist in not drinking. I have a good evening. Sadly, when a row breaks out, I am sober and don't feel like joining in. I go home.
For complicated reasons involving a gay dead letter box, I have been given a valium tablet. I am intrigued and can't decide whether to take it or frame it. Sadly, the sheer volume of rain has dissolved the tablet in my jeans.
So, I sit watching QI at midnight. Stone cold sober, trying to get drunk on cigarettes. I miss you booze. Do you miss me?