"Oh, I wasn't born yet"
O-kay then. Next stop, demanding that the neighbour kids turn down that damn music...
* unlike the balls of our past, this one didn't, as our friend Ilona so succinctly put it, involve pints of vodka and random snogging of random blokes in random corners of marquees.
** I feel obliged somehow to make the point that I haven't exactly been whooping
it up in marquees
in between, either.
Just in case you were suddenly imagining me with a rack of gowns.
(what is it about the word "rack" that always makes me want to snigger?
Apparently I am actually a 14-year-old boy...))