I spewed on the way to the pub toilet.

Went drinking with Ewan. Started in the Cellar Bar with a kamikaze, then 2 whiskies and a southern-comfort-and-lemonade, followed by a free Smirfnoff Norsk (blueberry-flavoured vodka. Then to the Victoria Cafe but it was too crowded to get served, so to 1 Golf Place where we had a southern-comfort-and-lemonade each. Then via Tescos (to buy sugar) to the Whey Pat where I had a long southern comfort. Then back to the Cellar bar where Ewan bought Goldschlagers all round. By this time my stomach was complaining but I still tried (under some peer pressure) to down-in-one the green chartreuse he bought me. I got half of it down and then realised it was coming back. I headed for the toilet and got within 3 metres before liquid came back up.

I rinsed my mouth at the toilet hand-basins, then went to the bar to get a towel to clean the floor. Cleaning the floor got me some plaudits from the assembled drinkers.

But still, I SPEWED ON THE CARPET OF MY LOCAL PUB.

It doesn’t matter that I had over 9 units of alcohol in one evening (when normally I have 4 a month): I SPEWED ON THE CARPET OF MY LOCAL PUB.

Despite spewing, I am still drunk and very embarrassed.

UPDATE
As soon as I could this morning, I phoned the Cellar Bar and offered to contribute to the cleaning of the carpet. I was thanked but told not to worry about it.