The other day I was enjoying a meandering Google when I happened upon this gem in the Independent:
According to Margaret Rhodes, the Queen’s cousin, HM’s alcohol intake never varies. She takes a gin and Dubonnet before lunch, with a slice of lemon and a lot of ice. She will take wine with lunch and a dry Martini and a glass of champagne in the evening. That comes to 6 units per day, which would make Her Majesty a binge drinker by government standards.
There are several points here that need to be addressed:
1. What the fuck is Dubbonnet?
(heads back to Google): Dubonnet is a blend of fortified wine, herbs, spices and quinine.
2. What the fuck is quinine?
(let’s mix this up with some Wikipedia): a natural white crystalline alkaloid having antipyretic (fever-reducing), antimalarial, analgesic (painkilling), and anti-inflammatory properties and a bitter taste.
That didn’t help? Well, here are the Google Image results.
3. How the fuck does that qualify for binge drinking?
According to the NHS:
“Binge drinking usually refers to drinking lots of alcohol in a short space of time or drinking to get drunk. Researchers define binge drinking as consuming eight or more units in a single session for men and six or more for women.”
She’s having six units over the course of a day. She starts before lunch and finishes in the evening. Now, I don’t know how long it takes to drink one of these Dunbonnet malarkies, but I doubt it takes up most of your day, thus creating one long ‘binge drinking’ session. She’s probably better classified as a ‘heavy drinker’, not a ‘binge drinker’.
4. She’s frigging 88
We’re constantly getting alcohol guidelines rammed down our throats. To guilt trip us into sobriety, or to help our health or something. I don’t know. I’m probably too drunk to fully comprehend it all. Whatever the reason, we’re told that women shouldn’t be regularly drinking more than 2-3 units of alcohol a day (one 175ml glass of wine). If we do more we’ll explode, die and smell like blue cheese. Well, Queenie looks at those guidelines with derision, as she sucks back yet another champagne. While I’ll admit she’s obviously had access to the best healthcare on the planet, lots of relaxing holidays and never had the stress of having to worry where her next meal’s coming from, I’m definitely going to show this article to my liver and ask it to act more regal.
What’s my point in all of this postulating? I don’t really know.
However, if my aging process was documented in real time on the currency of multiple countries around the world, rendering me unable to escape my own face even while on holiday, I’d probably start drinking before lunch too.
There, that’s my point. I’ve just decided.