Your guide to doing a drunk supermarket shop

DO you sometimes go to the supermarket under the influence of too much alcohol? Here’s how to successfully shop while shitfaced: 

Imagine you have limitless cash

Pack your trolley with high-end luxury items, before waking up the next day and realising you’re skint thanks to £20 wine that tastes identical to the cheap stuff and a frozen lobster you’re too frightened to look at, let alone cook.

Pathetically pretend to be sober

Walk around in a clumsily confident way and study mundane items like packets of pasta in great detail while talking loudly to yourself. People won’t suspect you’re drunk because they’ll be too busy staying well away from you.

Buy strange stuff

Suddenly become very adventurous and buy things like quails’ eggs, chicken livers and star anise. When you sober up, realise you’ve got a load of random stuff even Michel Roux couldn’t turn into an edible meal, then get KFC delivered.

Chat at the checkout

Chat and joke with supermarket staff, perhaps enquiring what shifts they work. In your inebriated mind you’ll be the classless friend of people from all walks of life and not a patronising, drunk twat.

Be dazzled by choice

Larger supermarkets, especially those that have an upstairs, offer a galaxy of choice. Stagger around starry-eyed and come away with a three-in-one avocado slicer, inflatable kayak or a collapsible gazebo for that day 30 years hence when you have a garden.


Bored of your trolley? Take someone else’s, and spend the next week living on the groceries of a 76-year-old woman who spoils her grandchildren.

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Woman experiencing unfamiliar sensation of pretending to be proud of team she's really p*ssed off with

A WOMAN is suffering the alien sensation of claiming to be very proud of a national team she is actually very, very angry with. 

Susan Traherne is outwardly congratulating the England women’s team for their brave semi-final loss, but is inwardly bloody furious with the inept losers for letting her down.

She said: “I feel that they’re inspirational, that they’ve done a superb job of promoting the game, and that each and every one of them is a disgrace not fit to wear the f*cking shirt.

“Seriously, how hard is it to score a penalty? My nine-year-old niece could do it. But these buffoons are paid thousands a year and Steph Houghton blasts it straight down the middle?

“I’m putting a brave face on it and saying the girls did their best, nothing to be ashamed of, all that crap, but really I think they should be met by an angry mob at the airport and hang their heads in shame.

“Is this what it’s like supporting England? No wonder my husband spends every other summer numbing himself with drink.”