Tequila is the Devil's breast milk

Last night was our company's "Wear a festive hat" Christmas / end-of-year lunch, held at Harvey Wallbangers in Durban North. It was a "lunch" that ran past 9pm. It was one hell of a good time (and surprisingly controlled, even if a company bigwig licked my palm), with excellent food, drink and company. It was also easily the most drunk I've ever been.
The advertising industry has often been presented as a collective of deranged and egotistical creative types fuelled by a cocktail of booze and illicit drugs. The drugs part is mostly a lie these days, but there's one fundamental requirement for people considering a career in advertising and marketing: the ability to drink!
I didn't have to drive last night, and I'm still pissed off at being boyfriendless for another 10 or so days (on top of 6 weeks already, hmph), so I could afford to let myself go a bit.

So there was a Bacardi Mohito, 2 glasses of Chardonnay, 1 glass of Sauvignon blanc, 2 Jager Bombs and a shot of tequila.

I coped perfectly with everything (I actually find Jager Bombs a tasty shooter) except the damn tequila! It sat burning in my throat for ages, and my throat still feels raw. I'm also sure tequila's the reason that once I got home, showered, sent a standard "Pity there's no one here to take advantage of me" SMS to the bf, and lay down on my bed, that I completely passed out. I only woke up again at 1am to realise that someone (my sister) had tucked me in, and that I'd slept straight through the arrival of 3 SMSes from Chile.