Wednesday, 11 September 2013

Lowlife 35 – Doomsday Delights


Doomsday Delights

I did something today that I have been meaning to do for many a moon and now I have finally got round to doing it I feel like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  And yet the process of becoming unbaptised was so simple.  Unbaptism.org explained that all that I had to do was to sign a simple Unbaptismal Certificate that they provided to me and get my signature witnessed, which the Phantom willingly did.  And that was that.   The website went on to say that if I want to do a proper job I could frame the certificate and hang it on the kitchen wall above the washing machine and/ or serve notice of my unbaptisement on the church that originally made me undergo the baptism ceremony without my consent, which I was of course in no position to give due to the fact that I was a mere baby.   Instead of willingly forcing defenceless babies into being Christians it might be more beneficial to them to bless them with a more practical privilege, such as making them lifelong members of the Camping & Caravanning Club.

It might be the case that my childhood baptism hitherto gave me the protection of god, so now I am relieved of her/ his guardianship I could be in right shtook.   If my ailing car Pat, which has been giving the old death rattle of late, packs up on its next journey then I will know that the almighty is exercising her/ his celestial muscle to express her/ his displeasure at my blasphemous action.  I don’t think god will take such action as I do not believe in the existence of the being of course, which is why I unbaptized myself in the first place.   After the unbaptisement I went straight to hell, well hell on Earth that is, in the form of Primark Birmingham, to obtain some new shirts as my errant washing machine ruined a couple in the week.

Unlike the Frymaster General I did not ruin my shirt on Saturday night by spilling curry down it in the Fluke restaurant, which we retreated to after a day out in the Jewellery Quarter with Chilly Willy, Carla von Trow-Hell, Jolly D, Harry Gout, Toby-in-Tents, Samuka Dudlovski, Jonty Von Rossi, Tom Holliday, Philly the Gent and Desmond Dekka.

The Frymaster has strangely behaved himself every time we have been out of late, which is highly unnerving, but I know through experience that he always leaves his mark.  He stayed at Codger Mansions on Saturday night and on Sunday morning I offered him a bacon sandwich, as a good host should and he answered, “go on then I’m starving as we didn’t eat anything yesterday”, to which I replied, “we went for a curry you buffoon, look, it’s all down your shirt.”  Anyway, the Frymaster must have slept fully clad as when I stripped the bed to fumigate it after he left there was a curry stain on the bed sheet.  And before you query the nature of the stain, I am as sure as I can be that it was curry and not bum gravy.  Jolly D was so lubricated on Saturday that when we entered the restaurant he missed his seat and as a result of gravity he fell to the floor, which is at least better than Sleepy Tom Parker’s usual trick of passing out in his chicken tikka masala. 

Despite too many drinks being consumed on Saturday, Sunday turned out to be a highly pleasant day which encompassed a fabulous family meal, bands and beer at Wassell Grove and the usual Flagon visit.  Sometimes people think that the day after a heavy drinking session (which I will call doomsday) is a living nightmare but it does not have to be.  Usually the only option on doomsday is to start drinking again and if you are in this position you need to take action before 1600 hours, which is The Point of no Return.  

Failure to play the booze card before The Point of no Return leads to a swift decline into a horror filled abyss, which will overwhelm and terrify the patient.  Once you start to drink again on doomsday the alcohol will be introduced to the drink which is already in your system and once old booze and new booze have shook hands and exchanged pleasantries you will start to feel right as rain.  But you can’t rush these things and small sips are the order of the day, it is a slow and steady process.  Trying to force the pace can become counterproductive and can worsen the patient’s condition as opposed to enhancing it.  So be warned.   

I actively enjoy drinking myself back to health on doomsday and such times represent some of my favourite boozing days.  A typical doomsday would see me in the soothing environ of the Flagon & Gorses enjoying a palliative drink with the Pirate or other Flagon dignitaries such as Paul Debilder and Mother Teresa or Francine Jacks.

When people say they are having a dry day on doomsday it fills me with a sense of panic and deep dread, even though I am not in the person’s shoes.  Such drastic and ill-considered action often leads the patient to an interminable day of agonies on the sofa, which to my mind is a waste of a day.  People often take this tack on doomsday through ignorance or lack of experience or, even worse, piousness or guilt but it is without exception a grave mistake.

If one steers the ship on the right course on doomsday and has a gargle to loosen the chest and ward away the lurking devil then it begs the question what does one do on the following day (post-doomsday), or as the Geordie Marcus Bentely would say on Big Brother, “Day 3”?  Stopping drinking suddenly on post-doomsday could pose the same problems (albeit less severe) as coming to an abrupt halt on doomsday itself.  I always a favour a tactical withdrawal on post-doomsday and I ingest a modicum of alcohol to ensure a terror-less state and a night’s sleep of sorts.    

On post-doomsday if I do not drink at all I will almost certainly have a re-occurring nightmare of mine (see Lowlife 21) as soon as I fall asleep, so I need to drink enough alcohol to ensure that does not happen whilst conversely drinking as little as practically possible in order to finally go booze-less the following day.  So drink intake on post-doomsday is a fine balance and failure to get such balance right can lead to either me having nightmares or having to drink again the following day, which is a rocky road to be going down. 

The only low point of doomsday on Sunday was the “special” Szechuan I had from the Rharely Peking Chinese takeaway which was only special because it seemed to consist solely of rice and vegetables, so it lead to me sifting through the dish having a game of hunt the meat.    I finally found a meat like substance which was masquerading as chicken but if the creature it emanated from had ever clucked in its life then I am indeed a Chinaman.  The Baby Faced Assassin got me again.

Willy Mantitt and the Pirate both had doomsdays on Monday after returning respectively from junkets to Berlin and Belgium.  Mantitt decided to face the doomsday horrors head on and inexplicably went dry but the Pirate predictably took the less fraught route of a phased retreat and had a pint in the Flagon where he regaled us with tales of his trip to Belgium, which seemed to consist mostly of him drinking 10% ABV beer.

On Tuesday I took the first steps towards testing my vodka and veggie burger diet idea (which I have named the V&V diet – see Lowlife 34).  Not wanting to rush into things I skipped the veggie burgers and went straight to the vodka.   Vodka and tonics seem to have magical properties.  I had two on Tuesday, as large as would be poured by a Greek barman, and I felt physically and mentally chipper on Wednesday morning or as well as I could be.   My pancreas was either having a long lie in or was unaffected by the VATs.   What’s more the VATs helped me to sleep like a log, which is not usual, with me being a fretful sleeper.  All I need to do now is get onto the veggie burger bit and I’ve cracked it. 

Mind you, I did treat myself to decent vodka, whose name I can’t pronounce or spell as it is all in Russian.  When I switch to Aldi’s own vodka the experiment could well go sour.  I see that Tesco do a vodka in their Everyday range, which basically suggests that it is fine to drink vodka every day, which is a green light if ever I have seen one. The other thing with the VAT situation is that on Tuesday night I had a heavy cold and my nose was streaming like a tap but on Wednesday morning I had a mere snivel.  No wonder the Russians drink Vodka by the gallon.

© Dominic Horton, September 2013.


No comments:

Post a Comment