I might be a washed-up, 47-year-old recovering addict and self-professed weirdo, but I still know how to party.
It’s nice to get out of the house once in a while. But these days I am careful about the way I approach social get-togethers. Whereas my younger self would have just rocked up, smashed into the drinks and just waited to see what happened next, the middle-aged me has a well-crafted strategy to maximise the pleasures and
