The Zen of Going Overboard

[Patchez]

A recent post in Hardcore Stig's Thought of the Day thread sparked this train of thought.

Most of us like to keep in control, at least in public places, taverns and pubs. We try not to get so snot slinging that when we try to communicate all we can manage is a slurred moan like an extra on the Walking Dead. We try to maintain a Rat Packish cool despite massive intake of our beloved hooch. At least in public. This is especially true when at any work related get togethers. We don’t want to be that sad, pathetic drunk seen as entertaining for a while then 86’d when the spectators get bored. Which is why the choice of "home" is always a nice one to make to get in touch and play with our monkeys.

However this ability takes planning as outlined in an article in the magazine about crafting a perfect buzz. This planning is nearly impossible when the endrunking is a spontaneous event.When your hooch crew show’s up out of the blue with a “plan”. Then our monkey can throw in a, well, monkey wrench. No time to lay down a good base layer of food in order to keep up with the coming onslaught of Bacchus’s Nectar. What do we do then?

I take the Zen approach. You know it's coming. You know it's likely to be disastrous. You could try to dodge it by falling back to one glass of water to one beer/cocktail. Really who wants to do that? Screw it. Run with it. Take your monkey out once in a while. Cut loose and run wild. You’ve maintained composer in public for long enough. Sometimes you just have to make an ass of yourself. Hopefully one or two of your buddies are game to go along for the train wreck you are headed for. They will come in handy trying to piece together the carnage from the night before. Your favorite local will understand. The other places you visit on this trek are less likely to feel that way. Best to avoid them for the 30 days you've probably been barred for.

[G_W]

One thing I learned, and I learned it the hard way and repeatedly, drink for yourself. Drink at your own pace, to maintain your own buzz, don't get all entangled in trying to keep up with the Joneses.

That being said... race ya!

[booznik]

Zen has been invoked.

Class, let us meditate upon this wisdom. Ohmmmmm.

And now, the requisite koan:

What is the sound of one Patchez being 86'd?

"Legendary" is correct, grasshopper.

[mistah willies]

^ ^ ^



Heee!


OK, yes, I told me lady the other night at Kosta's that I was about to take the last shot, and she should watch out for me. Them other Injuns all laughed, but they understood.

That's the last thing I remember.







I think she likes me because she puts up with me

[Patchez]

G-W this was never meant to be about drinking being a contest. I was merely pointing out how I handle the situation when you are drinking your "race" as it were but you can feel the control starting to slip. Not through peer pressure. Not because you lack what it takes to be a Modern Drunkard. Just because it is all part of the game.

Your calm, suave and sophisticated demeanor begins to lose traction. A gulp instead of a sip, a shot instead of just a beer this round. The veneer begins to crack. Your monkey is peeking through the cracks thinking this might be a fun place to play. The question is, rein him in or say fuck it is on now!

That being said... you'er on. On your mark. Get set. Go!

[oettinger]

I`ll steal that nike slogan for this one: Just do it

[booznik]

...Your monkey is peeking through the cracks thinking this might be a fun place to play. The question is, rein him in or say fuck it is on now!...

This is usually answered pretty simply by "do I need to work tomorrow", etc... but if I catch your drift correctly, the Zen moment is when you decide to say...

Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.

Let Buddha sort 'em out.

[booznik]

...Your monkey is peeking through the cracks thinking this might be a fun place to play. The question is, rein him in or say fuck it is on now!...

This is usually answered pretty simply by "do I need to work tomorrow", etc... but if I catch your drift correctly, the Zen moment is when you decide to say...

Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.

Let Buddha sort 'em out.

By the way, I did this yesterday. As evidenced by the Sunday Thread started by mistah willies.

It was glorious. The morning after required some wrangling, but I got a grip on that hangover alligator with my rope and taped his jaws up good. Then I went to work and earned my booze. Success.

[Patchez]

Wednesday myself and Brandon man let loose in a spectacular fashion. By the time I finished the Bomber of Doris the Destroyer I could feel the approach of a thundering heard of monkeys headed my way. No time for any reaction on my part. The whole mob boiled over me like a tide. I just let it wash me away and I drug Brandonman with me. The monkeys ran amuck on Skype for a few hours and seemed to enjoy their time out of the cage. At least this time it was at home. Killed the jameson and a large protion of Fifty Stone. A bottle of the wife's wine got caught in the crossfire somehow. I lost count of the beer bottles and cans on the counter. I was loaded to the gills when the wife came downstairs headed for work. Managed to hang on long enough to walk the grandson to the bus stop. The house fraus frowned and the waves of booze fumes pouring of of me. Stumbled home and somehow managed to make it to work.

The ensuing hangover kicked in a bout three ours into my shift and was somewhere between me wanting to encase my head in a block of ice or just chopping the fucker off. Stripes earned.

[oettinger]

Wednesday myself and Brandon man let loose in a spectacular fashion. By the time I finished the Bomber of Doris the Destroyer I could feel the approach of a thundering heard of monkeys headed my way. No time for any reaction on my part. The whole mob boiled over me like a tide. I just let it wash me away and I drug Brandonman with me. The monkeys ran amuck on Skype for a few hours and seemed to enjoy their time out of the cage. At least this time it was at home. Killed the jameson and a large protion of Fifty Stone. A bottle of the wife's wine got caught in the crossfire somehow. I lost count of the beer bottles and cans on the counter. I was loaded to the gills when the wife came downstairs headed for work. Managed to hang on long enough to walk the grandson to the bus stop. The house fraus frowned and the waves of booze fumes pouring of of me. Stumbled home and somehow managed to make it to work.

The ensuing hangover kicked in a bout three ours into my shift and was somewhere between me wanting to encase my head in a block of ice or just chopping the fucker off. Stripes earned.

Greatness, lesson No 1: Never go to work without a healthy binge in your bloodstream

[Bur]

If I don't occasionally wake up complete puzzled and often bruised every now and then, I think I'd go mad.

[mistah willies]

If I don't occasionally wake up complete puzzled and often bruised every now and then, I think I'd go mad.

Damn!

"If something isn't broken, then something must be broken."

Huh.

[whiskeyprick]

Sup Em' bot?

Brian and me dove head on into the Colorado herb, I mean air. Cold spring wind air or rain could not deter us from our pre-game pace. Friends joined the cause. No one is exempt or immune to a Red rocks front-load. After obligatory pics and seat guidance, the monkey inside took ME for a stroll. New heights and depths in comedy were expelled never to be remembered. Drunkard yoga nor a Brandon Marshall Stair-stepping class has never excercized my bladder more. Life begins and ends with pain, which a wise man once said, is the price of laughter.

[Tarcek]

'Overboard' is a thing we're taught to stop us from having fun. 'Overboard' is alcohol poisoning and choking on your own vomit. Anything less than that is using a LEGAL, and VERY mild drug to get a bit more fun out of life... or a way to escape from our problems, or a way to relax, or fun with friends...

Drink my friends!