Tequila. That’s how it starts. And that’s how I end up in hospital. Two Thursdays ago I attended a Mexican Gastronomical shindig at the Intercontinental. Tequilas flowed. Now, I’m not normally your suave tequila gobbling urbanite, I try to …
Last week was an ass by numerous accounts, things went South, or should I say “things went tits up” as Tony Parsons, my favorite British author would say. A bad week is like eating onion rings; it always leaves …
