The other day, I was Facebooking (is that a word?) with Philip, an old mucker from my bean counting years. Actually, he did all the bean counting while I took all the glory. Philip was one of the first to buy a copy of Turkey Street. In fact he bought two. I mentioned in passing that a little drink might help turn the pages. He took me at my word and attempted the first chapter on a Brighton to London train. Apparently, he was too pissed to remember any of it. This got us into conversation about that tipping point – when a night out on the tiles in your best frock turns into no-knickers in the gutter. We came up with the ten degrees of drunkenness and reckon ‘smashed’ is the point of no return.
- Warm
- Glowing
- Merry
- Tipsy
- Sozzled
- Smashed
- Paralytic
- Dribbling
- Comatosed
- Dead
I’ve never been beyond ‘dribbling’ whereas the old pro, Philip, has died many, many times.
Beware of Dragons with slippery tails……
No idea what you mean! 😉
. . thought there were only Three Degrees – Oh, and those things that unis do!
Showing your age again…
Can’t do it any more. It was a sad day yesterday when I was in an airport lounge with free booze and I couldn’t face even a small glass of wine.
Oh dear!
Oh how I laughed when I read this Jack…although I am wondering about what the difference is between Merry and Tipsy, a ‘space’ I often find myself in all too easily. Maybe there’s a follow-up post on the definitions…or even better 10 degrees of hungover 😉
I’m sadly drawn to the ten degrees of hungover this morning after a day of over-indulgence at the Lord Mayor’s Show. it seemed a good idea at the time! 🙁
Oh dear what level were you on the drunken-ness scale…surely not dribbling at the Lord Mayor’s show!
Not quite. Let’s just call it smashed 😀
I resemble this remark! [hic]