2045. Habitual drinking

It was nine in the morning and Roland worked out that it was only eight hours before he could have a drink. He never drank before five ‘clock. It was habitual. He wasn’t an alcoholic.

It was ten in the morning and Roland worked out that it was only seven hours before he could have a drink. He never drank before five ‘clock. It was habitual. He wasn’t an alcoholic.

It was eleven in the morning and Roland worked out that it was only six hours before he could have a drink. He never drank before five ‘clock. It was habitual. He wasn’t an alcoholic.

It was mid – midday – eleven o’clock? – midday and Roland worked out that it was only a few hours before he could have a drink. He never drank before five ‘clock. It was habitual. He wasn’t an alcoholic.

It was sometime in the afternoon and Roland worked out that it was only a short few hours before he could have a dwink. He never dwank before five ‘clock. It was habitual. He wasn’t an alcoholic.

It was now five in the afternoon – apparently – and when he went to get a bottle out of the cabinet there was none there. His wife had took it. She was an alohol… alohole… drunk. He wluld have to get the wine out from umder the bed. He kept it hidden there to stop his alcoholic wife from scoffing it all down.

It was now six firty in the early evening and his wife was on the phone trying to order takeaway.  “Just give us the zame as yesterday. And do you serve alcol? You don’t? Well it looks like I’m in for a dry evening.”

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.

1540: Things go better with Coke

(Today’s opening sentence has been contributed by Maddie, for which I am grateful).

The problem was Gertrude didn’t know which glass contained the arsenic. She had filled each glass with Coca-Cola (because it contained less added sugar than most natural fruit drinks on sale) but had carelessly not noted which was the one with the poison. In fact, she had noted which glass contained the arsenic, but while pouring the Coca-Cola she had moved each glass to be closer and more convenient while pouring from the large plastic bottle.

To be honest, Gertrude was more than a little odd; some might describe her as a few nuts short of a fruit cake. She had thirteen cats, six foster children, no husband (not ever), and a goldfish. In fact, Gertrude used to have seven foster children, but one of them had died – of arsenic poisoning exactly twelve months ago.

And yes! Today was Gertrude’s birthday, and she liked to celebrate it in a specific way. She would fill glasses with Coca-Cola, one containing arsenic, and give one to each child. She would muddle up the glasses while pouring. That way, the child poisoned would come as a surprise. A birthday surprise! Last year it was Ferdinand. This year it could be… oh! How exciting!

“Children!” called Gertrude kindly, “come and get your refreshing drink of Coca-Cola!” The six children swarmed into the room. She had made little pastry nibbles filled with cream to go with the celebration drinks. Gertrude took one of the little pastries and nibbled on it. It was after all HER birthday.

Suddenly, a piece of pastry stuck in Gertrude’s throat. She had trouble breathing. “Water! Water!” she gasped. Bruno offered his glass for her to knock back.

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!

1194. Pub corner

Yeah. Well. I was sitting unobtrusively in the corner of this pub having a think and having a quiet drink and smoking a cigarette which I had just taken up again after eleven years off them. And this guy comes up to me and says, hey, have you ever thought of doing something useful with your life?

And I say, yeah, like what?

And he says, I dunno. Get married and have kids and do something useful, instead of smoking and drinking on your own in a corner.

And I say I’ve got a wife and kids already.

And he says, well how come they’re not here or at least your wife? She might enjoy a night out.

So I stood up and socked him the biggest punch on his jaw I could muster. He fell down and I kicked him in the crotch and left.

Some people don’t know how to mind their fucking business.

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 51: Unpacking after moving house

(The poetic form selected for this week is the List Poem)

Toilet paper!
Has anyone seen the toilet paper?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

I need a drink.
Has anyone seen a glass?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry!

We need a wine!
Once found we’ll sip it from the bottle.
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry! Hurry!

We’ll need a cork screw.
Where’s the cork screw?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

Found them! Thank goodness!
What a relief!
At least I’ve found the Christmas decorations!

WINE!
GLASSES!
CORK SCREW!
TOILET PAPER!

Does anyone know what box they’re in?

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

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.

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

1102. On the blink

Brenda Clifford didn’t realize she was lonely until her television went on the blink.

Angela Charlesworth didn’t realize her marriage was on the rocks until her television went on the blink.

Geoff Craighead didn’t realize he was feeding his kids junk food until his television went on the blink.

Anthony Barlow didn’t realize he believed everything on the news until his television went on the blink.

Augusta Lorrigan didn’t realize she was drinking herself to death until her television went on the blink.

Lou Monks didn’t realize how untidy the house was until his television went on the blink.

When Rod Watson’s television went on the blink he didn’t notice anything except that his television was on the blink. He went out and bought another television and installed it before the sports game started. He bought some beer on the way home, told his wife and kids to shut up, burped, farted, and settled down for the night.