It is completely beyond me that someone has yet to invent a Hangover Delivery Service. Ok, maybe not the delivery of banging headaches, nausea, and loss of memory (clearly the name needs a little work), but a one-stop Hangover Cure Provider.

Think meds, greasy food, and hair of the dog. And maybe someone to come and hold your fringe back, kick out unwanted visitors, and call people on your behalf to apologise/phone in sick/feign your untimely death.

This is so the kind of thing I need to see on Dragon's Den. Deborah Meaden will, of course, declare herself out within seconds; Duncan Bannatyne will slur something Scottish; James Caan will say something encouraging; and I'll swoon over Peter Jones.