How to train your climbing roses

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I can't claim to be a particular expert in the language of getting wasted. Out of it, off your face, plain ole drunk: whatever you wanna call it. My friend Rose once told me on a Friday night she was "going to Taiwan-On this evening". I thought she was off to a glamorous new restaurant featuring yet another promising Asian cuisine, until she explained she was actually planning to "tie one on" – yet another evocative way of saying "plastered".





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