Dry it is then. Day 1.


It is the 1st of November 2015, Halloween has been and gone. But don’t get excited, your personalised peace and quiet action plan won’t be fully reinstalled until after next weekend when the firework twats finish their utterly pointless work. Domestic pets beware, it’s time for your thick coats to briefly jump off your petrified bodies as fireworks with names like ‘the fisting bomb’ and ‘the hearing destroyer’ scare the life out of you, while screaming children look on, sparklers welded to the smoking palms of their greedy little hands. Today is also the first day of what is traditionally considered a pretty naff month. Dark, wet and cold as a rule but today the sun burned away a duvet of fog and the blue skies were king. It is the calm before the storm.

November isn’t helped by being an unwelcome buffer between memories of a nice summer, not being freezing etc and the double edged sword, smeared with killer bacteria, that is the British Christmas. I say double edged because there are elements of Christmas that I really like but flip it over to look at the rest and all you get is a super powered punch in the goolies by an aggressive gorilla. Metaphorically, of course. The list of rubbishness is endless so I won’t start now, better save it for a yuletide special because today’s message is one of sacrifice and suffering.

November is now also a month which ‘the wife’ and I are to endure without alcohol. Following a successful ‘Dryathlon’ in January for Cancer Research (during which ‘the wife’ and I raised enough money for cancer to ensure that one person with cancer in Britain could afford a four hour parking slot at the NHS hospital of their choice) we have decided to do it all again because we’re idiots. My memories of that January are quite negative but I don’t really know why. We succeeded, felt healthier, had better skin, saved money, did more things together (not all good then, hee hee), remembered stuff that happened after 8.45pm at the weekends, worked harder and didn’t wake up feeling like someone had snuck into the house during the night, sawn the top of our skulls off and used our brains as pads in a boxercise class for very strong giants.

On top of this I got into smoking fine cigars, appreciating good coffee and…….oh what a lovely month. Well, not quite, because sad as it is to say, we did find ourselves really missing a tipple, especially at weekends, especially me. Not beer or spirits really, just a firm glass of wine to help settle into the sofa of a Friday evening. Put your hands up if that sounds familiar. Anyway it’s been quite a liquid summer, and autumn, so we decided we could do this again but this time I’ll do better by trying to update you as a distraction, all 2 of you, on our progress. Not every day you understand, I’m quite lazy. Anyway, it is appreciated that between 99.9%and 100% of you couldn’t care less as you have many nearly-as-important things to worry about. Things like feeding and clothing your children, paying the mortgage, taking your husbands laptop to PC World for ‘analysis’, opening your wife’s credit card statement or going to the doctors to find out why your teeth are falling out and you have angry buboes across your torso. Go now, ask, it could be that thing that’s going around!

So it starts today, for 30 days and 30 nights, no booze. In many ways we’re like Jesus in the desert, or Noah in his cross channel ferry, only with 25% off our sentence for good behaviour. I just hope we don’t start hearing the voice of God in ours heads again. We’re not doing it for charity this time, all the money we save will be going on expensive wine to celebrate waving the wagon off over Christmas. They do say charity should start at home. Besides let’s be honest you can’t keep on asking people for money for charity every 5 minutes, it’s annoying. Maybe we’ll do it properly again in January and we can all help smash the shit out of fucking cancer. Happy reading.

G.B. Hewitt. See line 1 for date.

Ps, if you think you’d like to join us on the sly please don’t try drinking alcohol free wine as a substitute. It has all the charm and life affirming qualities of a cold shower with Tony Blair. I imagine.

One thought on “Dry it is then. Day 1.

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