The weekend has started. For me anyway. Friday and Saturday are non-drinking nights now that most of my job-time is compressed into Saturday and Sunday. The rest of the week is drinkietime and write mad stuff time because I don’t start until 6 pm for three days then I have two days off. So things have become a little blurry around here now and it will soon be time to hit the oblivion pillow.
I definitely qualify as what the NHS calls a ‘problem drinker’ because – Friday and Saturday aside – their 7.5 unit limit is in the first glass.
But – where is the ‘problem’? I drink at home or at Smoky-Drinky. I am sat at a keyboard, not roaming the streets with drunken pals singing loud and off-key renditions of songs from ‘The Sound of Music’ (that hasn’t happened since Christmas 1980). I do not smash things other than, occasionally, myself. I cost the NHS nothing beyond a few doctors’ ground teeth and suicidal despair. They have tried and tried to find something wrong with me and failed. The only ‘problem’ I see is affording the whisky.
Aldi and Lidl have been a great help with that. Glen Orrin (Aldi) and Glen Orchy (Lidl) are decent malt blends, far better and slightly cheaper than the supermarket low-end grain blends. If you’re on a tight budget and are looking at Whyte and Mackay in Tesco, get to Aldi or Lidl and try their malt blend for less. Do not buy their ultracheap grain blends. Those are terrible.
There is a pill to eradicate the enjoyment of alcohol just as there is one to eradicate the enjoyment of smoking. Same pill, really – it eradicates enjoyment. Of anything. So you become one of the Puritan drones, incapable of enjoying life and just doing it to earn tax for the Righteous to spend on oppressing you.
Come on. 7.5 units a day is children’s portions. It’s a snack. A starter. A taste. Tonight’s bottle (Glen Orrin, but parents are visiting soon and might bring a Penderyn if they want to sleep in a bed) contains 28 units and it’s nearly finished. The NHS can offer me their silly little pill if they like, I will flush the lot.
I do not want to become one of their pucker-lipped disapproving drones whose lives are so empty they act like black-hole vampires, sucking the life out of anyone who strays too close. I have one life. One go at this. My time here is not an economic unit, not some Government-controlled tickbox exercise to pay off the money they borrowed. My life is not anyone else’s concern.
As for the national debt, well that is Government debt. They can pay it back since they borrowed it. I didn’t borrow billions. If I had I would not be able to see the keyboard now, much less type on it. Instead of spending it on more and more vicious ways to control everyone else I’d have spent the lot on smokes and booze and I’d be dead long before the repayments started. They can reclaim whatever they can get back on recycling all the bottles.
We are not here to pay off other people’s debts. We are not here to live under the control of idiots. Whether you believe in a God or not, doesn’t matter, we are not here to do as other humans tell us to do.
We are not the 99%. We are not the collective. We are not the property of ‘Public Health’ and we are not the property of government. We are individuals.
Some people have no lives. They are empty shells soaked in misery and loathing. They hate everything because they are incapable of feeling any form of pleasure beyond the torment of others. They have no life. They want yours.
And now they have pills to make you as miserable as they are.
Take the pill and wake up to a long, tightly controlled drone life of misery and hate.
Or pick up the glass, the ciggie and the lighter and take the (maybe) shorter life of happiness and delight.
Make your choice.