Keith Moon and Oliver Reed, two people you don't want to go out drinking with if you want to protect your liver and kidneys.
Luckily for me, l don't want to protect my liver and kidneys (they can fend for themselves), and l would have loved to have had a night (or two) out with Moonie and Reedie (as l'd call them).
Whether l would have wanted to live their lives full time is another matter, as l wouldn't. Much as l am all for the drinking, drugging, puking, raconteuring, hedonistic and 'couldn't give a toss' lifestyle, both of them in the end seemed to be playing a role they had created for themselves, trying to live up to their reputations as wild and wacky men and not being able to escape their cartoon like creations.
Sometimes, l would rather just read a book or watch the footie with a KFC and a can of coke.
Christ, l'm getting old - pass the meow meow before l'm really past it.
Damn! Too late!!.