Time to belly up to the bar

Time for the hard liquor experiment. If you’re just tuning in, I’m coming off a month long vacation from drinking and I’ll be doing a two ounce shot of whiskey every half hour until I yark, pass out, or succumb to sweet death. I’m starting late, but since I’m such a lightweight drinker after my hiatus I’m sure I’ll be facedown in a pile of puke by midnight. And on that happy note, let’s get started.

9:30 PM I belly up to the bar (a.k.a. computer desk) and pour my first two ounce shot of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey. Two ounces never looked like so much. Okay. Time to gird my loins, braid my chest hair, and remember that I’m a man. A manly man. If the cowboys can do this, so can I.

BLEAH! Oh, god. Kill me now. What the hell were the cowboys thinking?

Water’s not washing the taste away. Need something with flavor. Peanuts not doing the job either. Time for drastic measures. I’ve got a few Mountain Dews in the refrigerator for company. MD and JD don’t go together well, but I’ll try anything at this point.

Okay, better. I may make it to 10 PM.

10:00 PM Better. The combination of water, peanuts, and Mountain Dew may get me through this night. So far I’m not feeling any effects.

10:30 PM Feelin’ fine, although the booze still tastes awful.

11:00 PM I have the system down now – shoot the shot, follow immediately with a large drink of water, small handful of peanuts, drink of Mountain Dew. I barely suffer at all that way. Since I’m feeling so good I have decided to up the rate to one shot every twenty minutes.

11:20 PM Uh oh. Out of peanuts. I may have to double up on the Mountain Dew. BTW, three things I’ve learned not to do while drinking: 1) Install software. 2) Buy anything online. 3) Leave comments on people’s blogs. Note – I didn’t do any of these just now, I just thought of it for some reason. Booze greases the brain, allowing the Great Magnet to speak to me more plainly.

11:40 PM The whiskey is tasting better. It’s the Mountain Dew that’s getting worse. I may be able to cut it out after the next round.

Midnight The chickening hour is nigh. I’m feeling great. You listen to rock and roll? I am rock and roll! If only I felt this good all the time, like at work…
Then I wouldn’t have a job. Imagine: “Hey, Grant, can you – “
“Fuck you! Blamblamblam!”
I guess it’s good I have some restraint in the cube farm.

Chicken + 20 No new revelations, but still feeling mighty fine. This makes one pound of booze I’ve pounded down, and I’m still not dead. Which is lovely. The cube rute of eight is two.

12:40 AM Before DST, this would still be on the respectable side of midnight. No new e-mails. Do not force Zorzan to go Voodou on your buttocks. The bottle is still two-thirds full. It’s possible I may outlast the JD. I didn’t consider that outcome when calculating the odds. Also, I may be abducted by aliens. So, if I should suddenly disappear from the web, I’m either dead or in another galaxy. In either case, touch my iPod and I’ll kill and/or haunt you.

01:00 AM Too unfocused to play video games. I put on The Green Mile, a gift from a lovely woman I won’t mention here because she may have a cyberstalker after her. Let’s all wish her well. Death to the other guy. Painful, burning death. Horrible, savage, rotten death. I hope his kneecaps get bitten off by a thousand rabid beavers, set aflame, and shoved up his anus by tap-dancing sparrows or Paul Anka.
The booze isn’t working. I feel completely normal. See you in a bit.

01:20 AM Good is bad, bad is good, all the stuff’s the same.

01:40 AM JD is half empty. Or half full if you’re an alcoholic optimist.

02:00 AM Nothing new to report. The world has paused. Bibbity-bobbity-boo. I am immortal. The great thing about making that claim is that the only way to disprove me is to kill me, in which case I will be inconveniently dead and thus unavailable for comment. Therefore I will receive no comeuppance.

02:20 AM Fatigue is overcoming me faster than alcohol. Must sleep soon. Must worship the devil. I feel stupid.

09:11 AM Well, I didn’t exactly pass out. I think I just got tired and went to bed. I don’t remember. I woke up naked and found my socks stuffed under the bedroom door. There’s a wet spot on the carpet, but it’s only water. My brain feels like it’s running twenty degrees hotter than the rest of my body. Otherwise all is well. I think I’ll be spending today lazing around reading and watching TV.