In 1950, Brits drank an average of 3.9 litres of pure alcohol per person. Then, in 1960, it begins to creep upward. The upward trajectory ends in 1980, but that turns out to be temporary. By the late 1990s consumption is rising rapidly again. Come Peak Booze, in 2004, we were drinking 9.5 litres of alcohol per person - the equivalent of more than 100 bottles of wine.
Before my month away from the tipple, I was very self-aware about how young and immature I was. Now I feel as though I am actually an adult. Someone who can have one drink and mean one, who can have a diet Coke instead of a shot of vodka at a busy venue, who doesn't feel obliged to stay out if in fact they want to go home.
I love alcohol. There, I said it. It makes everything more enjoyable. It's been a big factor in some of my closest, most meaningful relationships. In fact, it's the main reason some girls even find me attractive enough to enter a relationship in the first place... So when the people at Dryathlon enlisted me for a month of sobriety in the name of raising money for Cancer Research UK, I felt a tad concerned.
I constantly receive a stream of emails from those looking for support to either cut down or quit booze entirely because the effect it has on their waistline. Yes, it is true that the booze can be your worst enemy if you are trying to lose weight and if you are like me and love your wine you should be aware.
Could it be true that humans are hard-wired to seek mind altering substances such as caffeine, tobacco, psychedelic drugs, and alcohol? Alcohol is and was the most easily available intoxicant and historically different cultures throughout the world started drinking independently with no knowledge of the others.
A few days back, I published a piece right here titled: What's in a Word, and Who is the Addict? I really only dealt with the first part of the question: semantic pros and cons pertaining to word usage. This time, I wish the address the second question - a far more difficult question than the first.
Since time began, love and dating have been doused in booze. Be it a romantic dinner and a bottle of pinot, a cheeky snog anointed by rum and coke or an outrageous one-night affair after slurping on a fishbowl cocktail - Brits' love affair with dating and drinking isn't going to fizzle out any time soon.
I have written before that stress will eventually lead to people, who are normally vigilant with their diet, going 'tonto' - and losing control. Check: there is a wonderful photo of me gazing amorously at a slice of pizza like it is Monica Belluci. I didn't meet a single carb that I didn't like in Spain. Once I started eating badly, I didn't stop.
Ordering in a bar is easy; you chat to your bartender or server, and exchange some money for your goods and services. So why am I writing about it? Well, for one, have any of you felt particularly underwhelmed by a bar experience a friend has raved about? This piece is about maximising your chances of having an experience that lives up to this.