Guest post from Married Anal Daddy aka Mr Shev…

He is very funny, I promise. Please make him very welcome – clap, throw coins etc…

I am guest posting on Slummy Single Mummy today. Which is weird as I am neither a mummy, single or particularly slummy. Married Daddy Anal?…hmm…Married Anal Daddy?…maybe not….Daddy Married Anal?…that’s just wrong – but it’ll definitely increase SSM’s traffic. Oh, the comments she will get…

I suggested that we write on the subject of booze as it is a nice wide subject, and something that we have all tried and it can also be interpreted loosely (I feel as if I have inadvertently strayed back into my previous paragraph’s subject matter) . If any of the five people who used to read my blog are now reading this blog you will know that I am a great fan of lists so without further ado I shall catalogue the 6 stages of drunkeness:

  1. The Fine Liquor Appreciation Society Stage Ah, that first tipple of the day…you wash it around your mouth pontificating about the heady bouquet of citrus and juniper, swilling it around the glass to release the subtle flavours. That ice-cold micro-brewery ale, all hops and burnt wheat aromas with rich fruit fragrance. Lager? Moi? Sainsbury’s own Claret? Are you by any chance: having a laugh? Only the finest shall be quaffed by me because I am a connoisseur of only the finest liquor, wheatbeer and juice of the noble grape.
  2. The Being in The Brat Pack Stage Everyone’s so funny. I’m so funny. We are all so funny. You are like a walking, talking Bacardi Breezer advertisement; flicking your hair, laughing, talking about really interesting things. Suddenly, you are pretty good at pool. Suddenly, you know about…stuff. Suddenly, previously banal team sports become interesting to you. Suddenly, tomorrow can wait  – let’s live for tonight – because you have a card behind the bar and you’re with your friends and they are just so funny.
  3. The Secret History Stage The beer appears – as if by magic – but you don’t care what you drink anymore – beer, wine, white, red – you just have to get this really important point across in the most earnest and intense way as possible because they must understand; it is vitally important that they understand what it’s all about. What everything is all about. You’re not arguing – even though you are shouting – you are just getting your point across in the most forthright way possible, alright?
  4. The Jackass Stage I could make that jump. I can sing that song. I can make that shot. I can drink that shot. I can cross those busy lanes of traffic. I can pull that member of the opposite sex who is so obviously out of my league. You are willing to try anything because you can’t fail…and even if you do it doesn’t matter! You can’t get hurt because…you won’t feel it! Your feelings can’t get hurt because…you can drink more! Yeay! The infantile over confidence is a liberating way to either embarrass, kill or humiliate yourself…but then that leads to…
  5. The Paranoid, Thespian, Catch 22 Stage You get so drunk that you have to manhandle your rubbery features into some semblance of sobriety, not walk anywhere unless for the necessities of buying a round or going for a piss and under no circumstances talk or interact with anyone less intoxicated than yourself – anything could give the game away but the irony is that the more effective your portrayal of a sober person is the more pissed you appear.
  6. The Untouchable Homing Pigeon Stage Your feet slap the pavement like a couple of trouts, you have lost all self respect and care for either your appearance or your behaviour; you have lost either your wallet, mobile phone or keys and you have a vague memory of having done something really embarrassing earlier on but your brain has a screen saver on so you can deal with it tomorrow. But, against all rational thought and logic, you still manage to get yourself home with the trifold difficulties of no money, no idea where you are and a massive desire to urinate.
I have freewheeled myself through most of these on my own personal Tour-de-Sauce, passing through – en route – the petit villes of Vomit, Lost and Holding Cell. I do believe there is a stage 7 but everyone who has been there cannot remember it; like you have cycled into some kind of alcholic hinterland that many have visited but none must speak.
I hope that you have enjoyed my brief sojourn on Slummy Single Mummy. It is one of my favouritest blogs and be sure to vote for her in the MAD awards

See, I told you he was funny didn’t I? I bet you’re glad you stuck with it now.



  1. 7 June, 2011 / 8:06 pm

    I know Vomit well. Bathroom Floor too.

    Was very happy to see you here, two of my most favourite writers in the same place.

  2. 8 June, 2011 / 8:44 am

    Hahahahaha!! Love this; you are indeed funny and worth reading to the end.

    I’m pleased to report that these days I usually stick firmly in stage 2 which, I would argue, is by far the most fun. My stage 6 days are (for the most part) well behind me, thank goodness!

    • 8 June, 2011 / 11:47 am

      I think you need a ‘sixer’ every now and again to clear the cobwebs out…

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.