I think these drunk tags should be put on general sale. Many is the time I’ve been so clattered that I can’t remember my own name, let alone give a taxi driver my address. Thankfully Dr Jim is usually on hand to avoid me sleeping in a gutter (did I tell you about the police, the absinthe and the wheelchair? No? Another time, maybe) but I can see a use for these in pubs and clubs up and down this bingeing nation.
Via What Possessed Me (again! Thanks Persephone!)