King of Excellent (according to Scaryduck)

Friday, September 10

On drinking

I don't have a drink problem. Well, I didn't. I like a drink as much as the next man, and a nice cold beer in the evening was a good thing. Then I moved to Ireland.
I don't get drunk anymore, for the simple reason that a) my body's used to alcohol, and b) there's a lot of body to absorb said alcohol. When I have too much to drink, one of two things will happen. I'll either get ill, which is not preferential, or I'll fall asleep. In seconds. Anywhere. TDT will attest to this. Last Friday saw me in the local pub for rather more than a couple of hours. In the UK you could start drinking at 6pm after work, and by 11pm be wasted. If you were really out to do some liver damaging then you could head on to a club and drink until 2am. A total of 8 hours and even the most hardened drinker would be falling over and propositioning some stranger as his new best mate *hic*. Last Friday saw me dying after 9 hours of drinking, and everyone (including my beloved) scoffing at me because I wanted to go to the local chippy and then home to bed. Others were just turning up at the pub (!). During the week I find myself promising to be good, and not to have a drink. This normally lasts 2 days, which by any stretch of the imagination isn't the full duration of midweek. Any medical student will tell you that your liver doesn't hurt. It doesn't have pain receptors, so no amount of abuse will mean it 'hurts'. I beg to differ. My liver is eminating a dull ache, and the sight of alcohol is now making me ponder becoming a nun. Mind you, I know a cure. I'm going to pop to TDT's mum's house (MIL - Mother in Law) and have one of the most inspired cups of tea ever. This tea is tea of the highest medicinal quality. Made in a cup, you can almost stand up your teaspoon in it. It's full of fortification, with added 6" nails, and one cup can have you fully repaired.
And licking your lips at the thought of the pub. This is not good.