The End Of An Era
Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Sorry about that, truly. I had several constant readers, and as I piddled my time away doing other things besides writing, I’m sure they found better things to do than reading my stuff. Fair is fair and all that.
I have no excuses, but I do have a reason.
I have to come right out and tell you guys this: there will be no more beer reviews on this site. Say sorry, but say true. It’s that’s what you came here for, I thank you for your time, but must bid you a fond adieu.
And, it’s not the beer’s fault. It’s mine. See, sometime around August, I slipped into alcoholism.
Yep, the bottle got me. Just as it bit my father before me. I went from beer, to vodka, to vodka like almost all the fucking time. Now you’re probably thinking ‘Shit, the codpiece walked around stinking drunk for months, and no one stopped him?’ But that’s not right, that’s not how it was. See, I can walk around with about four ounces of vodka in me constantly, and I’d defy anyone to notice without a breathalyzer. Just part of my fantastic Irish constitution. And I didn’t put it out in the open. I was slick with it.
So, yes, I walked around for months, legally drunk, with no consequence. I didn’t wreak cars, or get into fights, or dip my dick into the Jell-o dessert at parties. But my life did start to disintegrate around me. I stopped paying attention to anything that wasn’t terribly interesting to me, which was mostly vodka and doing whatever the hell I wanted.
In fact, the drinking never really did get me busted. If you’re reading this looking for one of those hard bottom endings where I drop from stellar heights to lows unknown, I’m sorry to disappoint you. There’s none of that here. My wife called me out on some of my behavioral bullshit and that’s when I realized the drinking was getting in the way of who I wanted to be. I wasn’t being a good husband or father, and was all around acting like an irresponsible asshole. You want the bottom, there it is. May it be as soft for all others, although I know it won’t be. Maybe it’s because I saw my old man fall so far that I was able to pull the cord so early.
But, It’s over. It’s been more than a week since I’ve had a drink, (including soda, I used to mix it with all kinds, and now it kind of makes me ill. Shit’s bad for you anyway.) and I’ll admit, for the first few days, it sucked bad. I had the shakes, the chills, the sleeplessness, the whole bit. But, that’s over. Then I had the few ‘holy shit, I feel great!‘ days that follow that, and now they’re gone too. But I’m still here, still not drinking. And, it’s not even a thing anymore. I don’t see why I did it in the first place, but hey, we are who we are, right? Me and the bottle were bound to tangle, but I’ll be damned if something that lives in a container is going to get the best of me for very long.
So, to all the drinkers out there, bottoms up! I begrudge you nothing. But I blew out my metaphorical knee, so nothing but the bench for me. Happy trails.
But don’t go anywhere, I haven’t stopped torturing my gut with frankenfoods, or reviewing expensive cars. Shit, we might even blow some shit up. Who knows?