Tis the season to be merry. As a grown up, this pithy little mantra is justification for all sorts of borderline alcoholism as it creeps closer and closer to the big day. If youve spent the day preparing food in advance, you guzzle wine to help you along. If youve had a long day at work, you reward yourself with countless post-graft pints. If the temperature has a number in it, this is an affirmation to go all George Best on a bottle of Scotch. Youre perpetually worse for wear just because youre allowed to drink at all hours and its bloody marvellous. Apart from the hangovers of course. You spend the majority of December spectacularly hungover and you miss being the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed cherub you were as a youngster during the festive season. Still, those dirt-cheap 24 packs of Stella arent going to drink themselves.