I Want A Dish To Taste Good,

When That Ineffable Compound Of Depression, Sadness (these Two Are Not The Same), Anxiety, Self-hatred, Sense Of Failure And Fear For The Future Begins To Steal Over You, Start Telling Yourself That What You Have Is A Hangover. You Are Not Sickening For Anything, You Have Not Suffered A Minor Brain Lesion, You Are Not All That Bad At Your Job, Your Family And Friends Are Not Leagued In A Conspiracy Of Barely Maintained Silence About What A S**t You Are, You Have Not Come At Last To See Life As It Really Is And There Is No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk.

Growing Older, I Have Lost The Need To Be Political, Which Means ... The Need To Be Left. I Am Driven To Grudging Toleration Of The Conservative Party Because It Is The Party Of Non-politics, Of Resistance To Politics.

It's A Letdown If The Comedian Doesn't Finally Actually Really Sit On His Hat.

Never Despise A Drink Because It Is Easy To Make And/or Uses Commercial Mixes. Unquestioning Devotion To Authenticity Is, In Any Department Of Life, A Mark Of The Naive - Or Worse.

Hangover Cure: Rigorous Sex, Hydration, Hot Bath, Then "go Up For Half An Hour In An Open Aeroplane. (needless To Say, With A Non-hungover Person At The Controls)."