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| Feelings. Internets. Booze. (lols in the middle) |
I haven't had a bad experience with booze and I'm not here to feed you a sob story like an X Factor contestant. No, I don't have a drinking problem. No, I don't have any health issues. And no, Uncle Barry did not touch me. But last Saturday was disgusting* tbh. Even though I'm not a scientist I've put together this Flow Chart for you to enjoy. Use your eyes to enjoy it:
START > Finished work at 6pm > Drinking from 6:30 > Aborted mission to pub and went straight to club > Left 80's night because it really does suck these days > Went to Casino > Got told off by Roulette Man for continuously shouting, "I'm a fucking high roller! I'm a fucking high roller!" > Somehow won monies > Did Walk of Shame to RFC (does anyone know what that stands for?) and brought poor man's Big Mac > Watched Battlestar Galactia, despite being unable to use eyes > 4am > FIN
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| * Sorry, the word I was looking for was 'amazing'. |
This isn't usually my scene. It's actually pretty barbaric. I won't bore you with an inventory of the drinks, but to put you in the picture, my pre-drink was 2 bottles of Cava (or as I like to call it, 'The Full Metal Jacket'). I was so hungover the next day I had to leave work and have a half to take the edge off. Not cool. Not cool at all.
So, like a plucky adventurer off into the unknown, I decided not to booze for a week. This is what happened:
MONDAY
Pretty standard back-to-work blues. I still felt rough, even come midday. But through the foggy-numb in my grey matter a plan is hatching. What if I don't drink for a week and see what happens? Interesting. Very interesting. Now it wouldn't be a challenge if I wasn't to do anything during this week, like staying in and hibernating or whatever, so it had to be a week where I was going to be active. It's easy to give something up if you're not around it. Like when The Transformers films give up on plot, story, and basic filmmaking when a competent director's not around.
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| "NO ROOM FOR PLOT, STORY, AND BASIC FILMMAKING. NEEDS MOAR EXPLOSIONS, FUCKING ROBOTS, AND BREASTS!!!1" |
So anyways, it would only be a challenge if I was actually doing stuff. This week I'm off to a gig, a lads night (oi oi), a leaving do, and some superduper secret show (just who is Dead Hors?). Challenge accepted.
TUESDAY
Changed my hair. No booze.
WEDNESDAY
Watched a film with some friends. Now usually, this would be absolute prime-time to liberate a bottle of wine. Maybe a Chardonnay or a light Chenin Blanc from Chile or pretty much whatever Tesco had on special offer. One does not question God's will.
We watched some real tl;dr piece of crap movie with that girl who plays Rogue in X-Men and some other jerkoffs. I think the skinny guy who played Mark Zuckerberg was in it too. I don't know, I'm not a cinematographer. But I resisted the temptation and didn't drink. Truly, I am a rock.
THURSDAY
Less Than Jake gig. Straight off the bat, we have a serious problem here as most of their songs are about getting drunk. Liquor Store, Three Quarts Drunk, Fucked, Malt Liquor Tastes Better When You Have Problems - you get the idea. I told my friend that the singer in the support band looked, 'Kooky'. This bagged a ROLF from her. Had I been drunk, I probably would've said she looked, 'Like a bitch' or I would've at least been obnoxious to somebody by now - I mean it's Thursday already. So far so good. My lols are working to capacity and so far I haven't called anyone a bitch.
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| Bitch. |
Some kids came up to me while I was having a smoke and asked me for a light. I had a really pleasant conversation with them and learned that 1 of them was going off to teach English in South America. Already, something is different here, like I'm a stranger in a strange land. I am using the word 'pleasant' - but what does it mean? I must continue my journey. They also said I had nice hair and that they thought I was 22. I liked these kids. Had I been drunk, I probably would've deployed a shock-lol about South America.
I remember once back in the day, my friend introduced me to one of his friends for dating, casual fun, and situations. She was hawt - so I was suprised that she was single. But believe me, gentle reader, there was a very good reason that she was single. She'd just come back from some gap year. So intense. Like she'd found herself or something, man. We're talking tie-dye sarongs, handwoven pashminas, drapes of beads, a faint whisper of incense, and she even had a bindi on her forehead. Oh noes. She was incredibly po-faced and serious business about some BS she'd done in Thailand about teaching local girls practical skills - so they could build a better future for themselves and all that good stuff. I turned to her and said, "So you're teaching them to be better prostitutes?" Absolute quiet. Whole table. Ground Zero has more noise during a 1 minute silence.
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| "TOO SOON! TOO SOON!!!1ONE1" |
Anyways, this is usually how I operate when I'm drunk. Not out of meanness, please don't misunderstand me, it's just because I get bored very easily and I like mischief very much. /thread.
But the gig went really well. The band were great. Last time I saw them I lost a shoe - so as I strode out, so strong and so casual and so erect, with a full set of shoes - I knew I'd done well. I made some new friends too. Win.
Then it was off to Chloe's leaving do. She's moving to Tunbridge wells. To her parents house. Poor thing. The problem here was that the leaving do was at Audio on a night called Bastard Pop (I think it's a community outreach project where they let children from broken homes who like to DJ 'bring the pain' or whatever a cool DJ saying is. I think that's quite cool). Now going to Bastard Pop sober is like going to a game of Street Fighter 2 without your ↓↘→ move. And if you don't understand what that means then let me explain it another way - it's like going to a crap club sober.
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| I can't add anything to this picture to make it funnier. |
Again, it went well. Got in, got out, so casual. No alcoholols.
FRIDAY
Pretty much stayed in. Nothing to report. Oh, well I did try to whiten my whites using lemon juice. It doesn't work.
SATURDAY
Lads Night. Yeah, I got the FOMO real bad when my friends ordered in some shots to line their stomachs and I ordered a Diet Coke. I started to think, 'Do I want to be that guy who doesn't drink?' But my commitment to my art is strong. I need to give the internets the truth and finish what I started. I didn't drink any booze. PROTIP: I never knew how many monies you could save by not drinking. My end of the bill came to less then half of everyone elses.
As we walked through the Laines some of us got separated - hypnotised by that shop that has the plaster-casts of vaginas in the window. How many lols were had? Many lols were had. As we walked off I turned around and asked if anyone had ever, "Slept with a woman who'd had a kid?" I was face to face with some 50 year old dude. He was not one of us. A stranger! He said, "Yeah, I have. I'm married". It was then I realised that his wife had probably had kids. Was she a bitch? I don't know, but it's probably best to be cautious and say, 'Yes'.
We went to a pub. Again, shots did the rounds. This time I had a Diet Coke in a bottle. Be still, my racing heart. Then, like brave Vikings docking our longboat ashore for some good ultra-violence and pillage, our group made it to the Casino. Legendary gambler and all round bro, Jez was in our party so we should get an instant +1 to our Luck rolls.
I'm sure this will come as a suprise to no one, but going to a Casino sober is not fun. Not fun at all.
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| This guy knows the score. |
Man, when I was there last week I could feel the ebb and flow of the game. The mathmatics of chance were laid bare before me just waiting for me to align them into corresponding shapes. I could taste it. It was music I could hear - the song telling me to, 'Bet that shit all on black because you're a fucking high-roller and a big-dick bastard'. This week, all I could hear was the soggy penguin bar singer. The music had left me.
I was too busy looking at that stoopid screen that records all the previous plays and trying to calculate the odds. Last week, the most challenging part of my game was trying to get my chip on the black. (It was very hard).
Within 10 minutes I'd lost it all. :'( sadface featuring tear.
Then I came home and wrote this bit you're reading now. I will now touch myself and go to sleep. Sweet dreams, everyone. I love you.
SUNDAY
Sunday's the day I remember the sacrifice that Jesus made for us - but I can't think about that right now because today's the last day of my experiment. Usually, not drinking on a Sunday is pretty easy. It's not as if there's a lot of situations. But tonight there's this Dead Hors thing going on. What is Dead Hors? Fuck noes. But they have a free bar. My plan was to ride the sobriety train until midnight, completing my full 7 days, and then depart the train at Messedupville. Or Drunk Town. Or a destination like that (I'm not clever enough to think up a good one). But then my friend Charlotte, a highly trained lol-technician and the woman who came up with the saying 'The magic of the word', which is an amazing win, had a most excellent idea. The last alcoholic drink I'd had was about midday Sunday last week, when I had to do the old hair of the dog to sort myself out. Incidentally, I used to work at this bar back in the day and some old boy told me that saying is something to do with treating rabid dogs. Did you know that? I did not know that.
But I digress. With my full 7 days completed I was legally allowed to get back on it. I got a bit carried away and thought that a bottle of wine was an acceptable pre-drink. Also there was about an hours delay before the club opened, which normally would make anyone feel real :( sadface, having to queue up like a sadsack. But my friend, prolific singer-songwriter and all-round lovely, Hero and I are seasoned veterans and had brought some booze for the road. We necked that booze in the street. It was good to see that I'd learned absolutely nothing from my week off. Casual.
CONCLUSION
I still don't really know what the Dead Hors thing was. I was sort of hoping they were going to crucify a horse but they didn't :( sadface. There was a DJ man. He 'raised the roof' and 'flip-reversed it' (or whatever a cool DJ saying is. I think that's quite cool). I think I know less about Dead Hors now then I did before I went in. So mysterious. So current. So cool.
But lets get back on topic - my week off booze. How'd it go? Genuinely, I enjoyed it. Of course there were the odd times when I just wanted to enjoy a pint with my friends. I mean I look after kittens and sell wooden dreams to people, so I deserve to get loose every now and again. But getting anhilated just takes too much out of me these days. Maybe its an age thing - but I feel the aftermath of heavy drinking far worse and for far longer than I did then when I was a kid. But realistically the hangovers I can deal with - a pint of water and some paracetamol before bed, and a bottle of Lucozade and some mackerel the next morning (don't judge me) and I feel like a boss. It's the times when I'm a naughty little bugger and say silly, confrontational things that cause me more of a headache the next day.
Do you ever get that feel where you think, 'Oh noes - did I really say that last night?'. I get this more often then not. I remember some friends and I were talking about Rhianna and in my infinite wisdom I said, "She was never quite the same after Chris Brown educated her." I mean seriously, what the fuck is that? Of course I don't agree with what he did and I don't think domestic violence is at all lol, but when I'm drunk I just want to watch the world burn.
Also, I don't want to sound like a gaylord, or indeed the lord of the gays - but OMG all those empty calories. That too, I can do without. So I guess I did learn something. I think going tee-total is a fail. I genuinely think that when you're drunk you're the real you, stripped of pretence and the shackles of common sense and repercussion. If you're a happy drunk, like me, then it can be a wonderful thing. But then if you go too far you can start being a bit of a dick. I can start being a bit of a dick. And no one wants to be that guy.
So I will continue to booze. I like it. I'm good at it. But I'll keep the massive binges down to a bare minimum - just my birthday, NYE, and maybe just those wonderful sporadic nights where you just needs to get loose.
I just weighed myself and I've lost 1/2 pound too. Adam's getting so lean now. Amazing.
Then I came home and wrote this bit you're reading now. I will now touch myself and go to sleep. Sweet dreams, everyone. I love you.
SUNDAY
Sunday's the day I remember the sacrifice that Jesus made for us - but I can't think about that right now because today's the last day of my experiment. Usually, not drinking on a Sunday is pretty easy. It's not as if there's a lot of situations. But tonight there's this Dead Hors thing going on. What is Dead Hors? Fuck noes. But they have a free bar. My plan was to ride the sobriety train until midnight, completing my full 7 days, and then depart the train at Messedupville. Or Drunk Town. Or a destination like that (I'm not clever enough to think up a good one). But then my friend Charlotte, a highly trained lol-technician and the woman who came up with the saying 'The magic of the word', which is an amazing win, had a most excellent idea. The last alcoholic drink I'd had was about midday Sunday last week, when I had to do the old hair of the dog to sort myself out. Incidentally, I used to work at this bar back in the day and some old boy told me that saying is something to do with treating rabid dogs. Did you know that? I did not know that.
.JPG) |
| We don't host dog photos on this site. Here is a cat. |
But I digress. With my full 7 days completed I was legally allowed to get back on it. I got a bit carried away and thought that a bottle of wine was an acceptable pre-drink. Also there was about an hours delay before the club opened, which normally would make anyone feel real :( sadface, having to queue up like a sadsack. But my friend, prolific singer-songwriter and all-round lovely, Hero and I are seasoned veterans and had brought some booze for the road. We necked that booze in the street. It was good to see that I'd learned absolutely nothing from my week off. Casual.
CONCLUSION
I still don't really know what the Dead Hors thing was. I was sort of hoping they were going to crucify a horse but they didn't :( sadface. There was a DJ man. He 'raised the roof' and 'flip-reversed it' (or whatever a cool DJ saying is. I think that's quite cool). I think I know less about Dead Hors now then I did before I went in. So mysterious. So current. So cool.
But lets get back on topic - my week off booze. How'd it go? Genuinely, I enjoyed it. Of course there were the odd times when I just wanted to enjoy a pint with my friends. I mean I look after kittens and sell wooden dreams to people, so I deserve to get loose every now and again. But getting anhilated just takes too much out of me these days. Maybe its an age thing - but I feel the aftermath of heavy drinking far worse and for far longer than I did then when I was a kid. But realistically the hangovers I can deal with - a pint of water and some paracetamol before bed, and a bottle of Lucozade and some mackerel the next morning (don't judge me) and I feel like a boss. It's the times when I'm a naughty little bugger and say silly, confrontational things that cause me more of a headache the next day.
Do you ever get that feel where you think, 'Oh noes - did I really say that last night?'. I get this more often then not. I remember some friends and I were talking about Rhianna and in my infinite wisdom I said, "She was never quite the same after Chris Brown educated her." I mean seriously, what the fuck is that? Of course I don't agree with what he did and I don't think domestic violence is at all lol, but when I'm drunk I just want to watch the world burn.
Also, I don't want to sound like a gaylord, or indeed the lord of the gays - but OMG all those empty calories. That too, I can do without. So I guess I did learn something. I think going tee-total is a fail. I genuinely think that when you're drunk you're the real you, stripped of pretence and the shackles of common sense and repercussion. If you're a happy drunk, like me, then it can be a wonderful thing. But then if you go too far you can start being a bit of a dick. I can start being a bit of a dick. And no one wants to be that guy.
So I will continue to booze. I like it. I'm good at it. But I'll keep the massive binges down to a bare minimum - just my birthday, NYE, and maybe just those wonderful sporadic nights where you just needs to get loose.
I just weighed myself and I've lost 1/2 pound too. Adam's getting so lean now. Amazing.
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