probably when I was 17 , first party I went to , I was so shy that I spent most of the evening in the kitchen helping myself to a bit of everything ... I was as sick as a pig , someone had to walk me to the end of my road . I don't know how I managed to get home and put myself to bed , I had to convince my dad everything was ok ... he was sitting up waiting for me amd watching the snooker .... " hello Son , good party ? " .... " Yesh dadI'm goontoobedg'night" ... I must have reeked I had been puking neat cinzano on the way home .... got up for breakfast next day ( sunday ) .... the sight of my boiled egg and soldiers made me reach .... dash to the bog , throw up ..... back to bed for the day ... still felt shit in sixth form next dsy ...