I make no excuses for my hedonist bent.  I’ve always said I’d rather live a, ahem, ‘flavorful’ life and die at 50 then avoid pleasure at all costs and live to 100.  Vice is nice. 

That said, a recent book titled “The Hedonist’s Guide” is next on my reading list.  The writing (by a variety of contributors) is some of the funniest I’ve seen in awhile.

Some examples:

ON GAMBLING:

Gambling: there is but one rule. If you mind losing money more than you enjoy winning it, keep away – play solitaire, move to Bognor Regis, whatever.

I have always believed that betting within your limits is wholly pointless. To spend time, energy and intellectual capacity working out which horse/dog/athlete is going to come first, then backing your opinion with insufficient ammunition to realise the price of a case of decent champagne, is pathetic.

ON JOINING THE JET SET:

Memorise the following Boys: your favourite film is Scarface. Your favourite book is anything by Bret Easton Ellis, apart from the last one, which you found a bit weird and “quite hard”. Your favourite sexual position is doggy. Yeah, baby, yeah!

Girls: your favourite book is . . . you have never read a book in your life. Your favourite sexual position is . . . whatever the nice man in the sealskin bomber wants. Your favourite designer is . . . Cavalli. Your favourite restaurant is . . . you last ate solids in 2001.

*bonus tip for the ladies:

It’s not a hard club to infiltrate: all you need to be is very attractive and willing to sleep with morbidly unattractive men.

ON BECOMING AN AGING HEDONIST:

Why put yourself through all that mental and financial torture when you can drink indoors? I love drinking at home. It’s marvellous: none of that worrying about getting back or forgetting where you live because you’re already there, in front of the telly, in a towelling robe. Towelling robes are great – they’re like an all-in-one nappy, soaking up any spills. Recently, I have been toying with the idea of decanting alcohol into a baby bottle so that I can just lie on my back guzzling.

And finally, a great summary:

It would be disingenuous to deny that sex, drugs and rampant drunkenness are, for some, a path to spiritual enlightenment. To get sky-high and unshackle our inhibitions is to enable a journey of self-discovery; travelling into the dusty corners of our consciousness can be edifying and enriching. The enlightened hedonist knows there is more out there.

Hedonism makes us happy. To be euphoric and on the edge is to kiss joy in flight. Everyone should be free to taste that.

Amen to that.

Read more (including a hilarious guide to cycling in the city, and getting backstage at concerts) at Times Online