Let me just take this opportunity to give an explanation for those who are unfamiliar with Geordies.

We are born loud and proud to be Northern. Being a Geordie is not simply a title due to the region we were born in, it’s a culture. Our blood runs thick in black and white.

The girls are brazen and unafraid of most things – well, except the Achilles’ heel to any Geordie lass... a fake tan shortage! We fight like blokes and have skin like penguins. We feel no cold and will face minus temperatures with so little on and skirts so short, that you can practically see what we’ve had that morning for breakfast!

We are not measured by our character and content of our hearts but by the shortness of our hem-lines and the height of our hair. Oh, and we can drink anyone, and I mean anyone, under the table!

Like any good Geordie, the talent of binge-drinking is innate. There is something in the Northern water that makes it possible for any one of us to consume lethal amounts of liquor in the shortest amount of time possible and still manage (granted, with a few intermittent cleansing stomach-purges) to crack on through the night undeterred.

Despite that fantastic description, most of us are classy, we just like to work hard and play even harder.

Now where were we?

Stumbling around the room with a more-than-fuzzy head, I tried to focus and fight back the nausea.

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