Why I’m Not Dopey

Unlike others, I will not be using my newspaper column to announce my intention to run for election as leader of a political party.
Anyone who has witnessed any of my family’s birthday celebrations will know that I am totally incapable of organising any party, let alone any of the political parties in such disarray.
Although it would be harsh to suggest that my party organising skills are so bad that at my wedding reception, my wife walked out and left me before many of the guests – although it’s true to say that the wedding cake and some of the helium balloons lasted longer than my marriage.
Nor will I be using this column to announce that I have taken any illegal drugs, either accidentally infused into grandma’s Battenberg cake where she mistakenly mistook cocaine for icing sugar, nor through an open bus window when it passed a crack house.
The boring truth is that I have never taken any illegal drugs. I have only taken alcohol which really upset my dad and ruined his Christmas as he thought he’d locked that cupboard.
After drinking, I refuse to operate any machinery, not even a microwave but that’s probably because I’ve visited a take-away on the way home and am no longer hungry than any reasoned health and safety issue.
Which means that all my typed columns are the work of a sober but slightly disturbed mind.
My reasoning for not taking drugs is probably based on fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of how they would affect me and how long those effects would last. Fear of acting completely out of character, upsetting people and being unable to remember what I did and wondering where all my money has gone and why my home is covered in sugar laden cups of coffee and sweet biscuits and brochures for Amsterdam and why the police are knocking on my door.
Because that’s what happened when I first tried alcohol and I really don’t want to revisit those times again.


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