Tag Archives: alcohol

1748. Glorious sunset!

You know, Penelope, I could stand here and look at the sunset all day. Gold over a diamond mountain, I say. Simply glorious! So lovely to stand here of an evening and let it wash over one.

Yes, I would love it; I’d love another martini thank you. And the stars! One can barely see them in the golden light, Penelope. But Venus, at least I think it’s Venus, glimmers so brightly. It’s the only star in the evening sky that I recognize.

Thank you! Yes a Martini is the only way to go on an occasion such as this. And yes, I will have a second cheese and olive on a toothpick with just a hint of cayenne and a slice of salami. Superb!

At first the sky was crimson; dark velvet crimson. And slowly it transformed into a golden luminosity. I half expect a choir of angels to make an appearance. No film director could produce such wonder.

Goodness! You’re right. The scene does make me imbibe a little faster than usual. Yes, I shall have another Martini, but make it a double least I feel the urge to come back too soon.

The sunset! The sunset! All this and heaven too!

You what? What’s that, Penelope? It’s not a sunset at all? It’s a sunrise? A sunrise! Have I been up all night? I haven’t? So this is breakfast? How splendid! Well get on with it, my dear, and get me that martini.

1393. Nothing to get

A group of friends were having a few drinks. There’s nothing like a few drinks to invigorate a conversation. They got to telling jokes.

Benjamin told a joke.

“There were three bears: Father Bear, Mother Bear, and Baby Bear. They went on a skiing trip. Father Bear came down the hill on skis shouting WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Mother Bear came down the hill on skis shouting WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Baby Bear came down the hill on skis shouting RADIATOR!”

The joke was completely unfunny. In fact, the joke was so unfunny that Bernice became convulsive. She asphyxiated on the joke. She was on the floor laughing so hard that she choked. She had a fit and almost had to be taken to hospital. Harriet didn’t think the joke was funny at all. She just didn’t get that there was nothing to get.

1211. The sun had gone over the yardarm

Abernathy had a few serious New Year resolutions to make. And he made them. He needed to give up the drink – alcohol that is. Every evening he drank too much. That would have to stop.

Then there was smoking. He had to give that up too. It was for the sake of his health and for the sake of his pocket.

What he needed to do was to have new and varied interests. That should take his mind off things. Perhaps he should take up pottery, or herb growing and drying, or fruit tree grafting? Perhaps he could go to night school and study Middle Eastern cooking, or learn how to paint with water colours, or master all the ins and outs of the computer programs he used?

It was five o’clock on New Year’s Day; the sun had gone over the yardarm. Abernathy poured himself a drink and lit a cigarette. Decisions! Decisions! So many options to mull over!

1179. The clink of bottles

Nora heard the clink of bottles hitting each other as her husband walked up the drive having done the grocery shopping. He would first go into the garage before coming into the house, and then when the grocery bags were emptied there wasn’t a bottle in sight.

Nora’s husband had a room at the back of the garage where he kept his model railway. He would spend hours there. He could afford the time once he had retired. Occasionally he would come into the house to use the bathroom, smelling of the breath-disguising odour of peppermint.

He’d always had trouble with drink but now he’d “dried out”. He had given up by sheer will-power, he told everyone. “Just said NO and that was it.” No one other than Nora heard the clink of bottles on the driveway.

In a strange way Nora didn’t mind. The more her husband stayed out of the house the better. That way she could get stuck into her own stash of liquor hidden behind the pots at the back of the kitchen cupboard.

Poem 34: A frightfully PC love song

(The poetic form selected for this month is the Standard Habbie aka Burns Stanza).

Seasonal comparison
Seems to be the thing that’s in:
You’re like a summer’s drink of gin –
At first all pop
But once the alcohol sets in
You’re really hot.

I’ll pour myself another one
And when that’s drunked I think I’m done
And hope we could be in for fun.
You leave? Aw super.
Why go before the night has run?
Party pooper.