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Explain to the various interested parties why I'm here. One of those people who should never drink anything at all, I drink a great deal. But it depends. There are a couple a mornings a month, awakened -- stiff with pride, deafened with aspirin (and reckless with several glasses of Champagne) I will adumbrate serious reform: for example, only two colossal cocktails before dinner, a broad maximum of a half bottle of wine with my meal, and then just the one whisky before bedtime. I will frquently stick to the new regime right up to and certainly including the whisky before bedtime the following day. By then, bedtime looks a long way off. And what about *after* bedtime, or after the *first* bedtime, with several bouts of one thing or the other still to go? What can never be endured, it turns out, is the last swathe of time before sleep comes, the path from larger day to huger night, a little death when the mind is still alive and fluttering. And so the glass bangs down on the round table; the supposedly odourless ashtray gives it's last weak swirl; and then the babywalk, the smudged trend to the loathed bedding. That is how it has to end. My face is always dark, and my teeth have a shadowy lustre - a slight slant - to balance the breadth of my lips, or just through the suction of the devouring soul. My eyes change color readily, eagerly, in different lights, but their firm state is a vehement green. I'm happiest with comedy, farce and custard-pie. I sleep with my hands crossed over my heart. But let us be clear about this: I have great powers - great powers. I have the power of inspiring love, almost anywhere.