Owch

Sod’s law aside, the secret to giving up smoking at first, seems to be to get a massive, brain-crankingly unpleasant hangover. Who knew? Well, me and everyone who’s ever had to hug a teapot for 24 hours after getting carried away with their good friends Gordon and Smirnoff. It only really hit me on Friday, after some friends dragged me from the peaceful 12A nature of post-Harry Potter screening cocktails to the 18 environs of Greenwich after midnight. Nobody does debauchery like the leafy suburbs. Having been really rather good with my cig-free Potter friends, I proceeded to smoke my little brain out until 7am, at which point I crawled to the television and watched Clueless very quietly.