The defective yeti How To Drink Without Becoming An Alcoholic Program
My coworker told me his new year’s resolution: he had decided to only drink once a week.
No, I replied. No, no, no. I tried this, and it’s a bad idea, here’s why: one, you’ll fall off the wagon by February 13; and two, you’ll probably fall off the wagon by January 27.
Besides: you’re supposed to drink every day — Science says so. That why I thunk up The defective yeti How To Drink Without Becoming An Alcoholic Program, and have more-or-less adhered to it for a couple of years. It has worked so well for me I’d be remiss not to share it with the world.
So here it is. Are you ready? Okay, write this down:
No more than one drink a day except for one time a week.
That’s it! You get your Science-prescribed daily-glass-o-red-wine and you get your weekly three-beers-with-the-buddies outing.
The trick is to remember the caveat: “No carryovers!!” If you forego your nightly drink, you don’t get two the following day (unless it’s your designated “one than one” binge). Likewise, you only get a single “more than one” day per calendar week — no carryovers!!
Works for me.
Speaking of drinking, I recently walked from the Rendezvous to my bus stop at around 11:00 at night, following one of my aforementioned three-beers-with-the-buddies outings. As the Rendezvous is on 2nd and Bell and my bus stop was on 4th and Stewart, this necessitated travel through some Seattle’s Sketchy Neighborhoods, so I reflexively adopted my Badass Motherfucker gait, a mode of walking that involves long strides, a puffed-up chest, and lots of scowling.
(Note: I was raised in the suburbs, so my perception of a Sketchy Neighborhood is probably way skewed. I consider any block that doesn’t contain a Dairy Queen, a Blockbuster or an antique store to be a “Sketchy Neighborhood”. But work with me, here.)
At some point I got the munchies and dug some food left over from my lunch out of my backpack. I began snacking on that as I walked.
But then I saw my reflection in a store window, and realized that my choice of foodstuff pretty much negated any advantage gained by my strutting. Because here is a 100% true fact, folks: nobody looks like a Badass Motherfucker while eating baby carrots.
In recent weeks I have been sneaking links onto my sidebar. I was being all stealthy ‘n’ shit because, in most cases, I was embarrassed they weren’t there already. But I’ll fess up:
Update: Holy crow, I just realized that I never put Choire Sicha on my sidebar. Whatta idiot. Me, I mean, not Choire. Anyway, he’s there now. Dumb dumb dumb. Uh: again, that means me.
Back from the dead: Mr. Pants. Year Of The Smore, yo.
Says Wesley Clark’s campaign: “Lieberman is like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense: He’s dead and doesn’t know it yet.”
Jeeze — just blurt out the ending, why don’t you?! What if everyone followed your example?
- Clark: “The Republicans’ feckless approach to foreign policy has so radically changed the world that, like the Planet of the Apes, it’s no longer even recognizable as Earth.”
- Dean: “When it came to authorizing the war in Iraq, the other candidates were like the characters in Murder In The Orient Express: they all did it.”
- Gephardt: “Kucinich’s worldview is so idealist that he reminds me of Charles Foster Kane, pining for the halcyon days when the most important thing in the world was a sled named Rosebud.”
- Kerry: “George Bush is like Luke Skywalker: powerful because his father is a influential figure in a evil organization.”
- Mosley-Braun: “If you don’t vote for me you will wind up with a candidate who, like the main character in The Crying Game, is a man.”
For The record