If I've learnt anything this past weekend, it's that wine is the devil and we are no longer friends. That's the only excuse that I have for being late (yet again) with last week's HOTW. I'm pants, I know.
Saturday night started out like any typical Hen party does. You've spent ages picking out the perfect outfit and making yourself look lovely and glam. You meet the Bride to be's friends and all quickly fall into the girls-on-a-night-out-mode. You had every intention of pacing yourself so that you don't embarrass yourself and have to bail out before 11pm. But by the time you remember this, it's too late. Having had the best part of a bottle of wine to yourself, before dinner, doesn't quite work the way it used to. You've passed Merrydom and are now well on your way to being Hammered McNammered. You've already committed to the hang over from hell and there is no going back now.