Shpeech Thera-Pissed

The October 23rd edition of The Edinburgh Evening News tells of one Dr Elizabeth Dean who was "found slumped at a children’s table with an empty half bottle of vodka in the speech and language therapy office at the Knoll Hospital in Duns, Berwick-upon-Tweed, on November 26 last year". Colleagues were alerted by the tide of saliva seeping from under the door in the wake of fifty wet-lipped children repeating "The Rain In Shpain Shtays Mainly In The Plain".

The story goes on to tell us that "Dr Dean admits the allegation but denies she is guilty of 'infamous conduct in a professional respect'." A missed opportunity to attach a .wav file if ever there was one.

Richard Harris, then, becomes the celebrity death from whose sotten ashes this great testimonial to the British... oh, no... hang on... he's from Ireland. Limerick, apparently. Same as Wogan. Arses. Can you believe the IMDB actually lists Wogan's appearance on Never Mind The Buzzcocks? If that's the sort of level of trivia I'm destiny bound to uncover throughout this sorry project it's all liable to be about as much fun as being strung up with hooks through me nipples. A word bizarrely missing from this list... One can only hope they'll be able to shut the lid without getting the pair of them caught in the doings, draped over the side like dozing lug worms.



Lets catalogue the drinking references then... that's what we're here for after all:



"career was hampered by booze and brawling" - Washington Post



"noted for his interest in pub crawling, strong spirits and strong, spirited women " - New York Times



"He was known to go out for a packet of cigarettes and not return for a fortnight." - The Times of India (ever with an eye to the lucrative tobacco market those chaps).



"although he continued to star in blockbusters like A Man Called Horse and the heroes of Telemark, as well as in numerous low-budget flops, his excessive drinking and lavish lifestyle made Harris a bankrupt on two occasions. Given the last rites by a priest after one drunken binge, Harris gave up the booze in the 1980s. Latterly, though, he did enjoy the odd beer." - BBC



And on that relatively happy note we'll leave him. All the obits seem to put him in the company of the masterly Peter 'O Toole and Richard Burton - both of whom I'm sure will drink heavily... I mean feature heavily as we progress on our wobbly journey.

And welcome to this Inaugaral posting to The Great British Drinkers Weblog. It's not a pretty name, I suppose. Well, I only thought of the idea five minutes ago and now here it is on the web. It does what it says on the tin. Which is more than can be said for the misleading Tennents 'Super' or 'Crucial' Brew. It sums it all up. I'm here to chronicle the very best of British ripped-to-the-tits arseholery.



Take this lush for starters (at least I assume it's him - it's the right site and the boozy wink's there)... His name's Robin Banks. He's a DJ at Kiss FM. He apparently got tanked up and decided to take off the pre-recorded show and do an MC Rab C Nesbitt, much to the chagrin of painfully misguided listeners. If it was that garage nonsense they're so fond of you'd hardly think a barrage of four letter lyrics would register on the numbed eardrums of Peckham. Still, he's the first notch on my bartop and for that I must be grateful. Lets hope that this Drunk Jockey is only On Air next time he turns up for work and not some sort of Malibu and Lucozade Energy Cocktail. And there was me thinking it was all baby's dummies and whistles in such circles. The birth of Public House music completely passed me by.



So that's the sort of kidney we'll be imbibing. I envisage excursions into the web presences of famous and/or notable drunkards from time to time. Indeed, I understand that Richard Harris has just passed, so there's a homage waiting to be paid. Until then, then...