A 16 YEAR OLD LAD

 

A 16 year old lad asked the barmaid for a drink

“I can’t sell you booze to quench your thirst”

She replied “Do you want to get me in trouble”

The lad smiled and said “Can I have a beer first”

WHEN THE WINE BOX IS EMPTY

 

When the wine box is empty

I am one of the thorough types

I rip open the cardboard

To reveal the Pinots tripe’s

And squeeze it dry as I play

The alcoholics bagpipes

I AM A FORTIFIED WINE CONNOISSEUR

 

I am a connoisseur

Of all types of wine

Albeit self taught

And have a Radio channel

About fortified wines

It’s called, Talks Port

ALCOHOL IS NOT THE ANSWER

 

Alcohol is not the answer

That’s my suggestion

It does help however

To make you forget the question

I NEED GLASSES

 

I need glasses

So, it would appear

But the glasses I need

Let me be clear

Are glasses of wine

And glasses of beer

SENIOR WINE

 

Forget the Pinot Grigio and its ilk

And the endless night time wee’s

Would you like anti-diuretic wine?

Then the Pinot More should please

ON THE ROCKS

 

ON THE ROCKS 

 

Vodka with ice is bad for you

Rum with ice is bad for you

Whiskey with ice is bad for you

Gin with ice is bad for you

I think we should refrain

From using ice, don’t you

THE NIGHT BUS

 

After a night out at the pub

I drunk until I could drink no more

And in a disorderly way

I made my way out of the door

But being the worse for ware

I hadn’t walked very far

When I came to the conclusion

I was too drunk to drive the car

So, I decided to take the bus

And I arrived safely at my door

Which was truly amazing

As I’d never driven a bus before

EVERYONE NEEDS A HOBBY

Everyone needs a hobby

And my dad is no exception

He has built up a rather large

Empty bottle collection

 

There is a name for it

It’ll come to me in a tick

It’s on the tip of my tongue

Oh yes, he’s an alcoholic

THE LATEST FAD

 

I’ve been on every diet known to man

Atkins, Lemonade, Cabbage and f-plan

And I’ve never lost a thing worthy of mention

But I try every new one, full of good intention

Now I'm on the Whisky diet, which I’m taking steady

And do you know I've lost three days already.

DRINKING FROM THE UGLY POND

 

Alcohol was originally invented

So ugly people could have sex too

Because viewed thru beer goggles

Everyone looks beautiful to you

It also serves to add some variety

To the beautiful people’s gene pool

DRINK TO MY HEALTH

 

I was out for a walk

Just round and about

When I saw in a doorway

An old down and out

Drinking brake fluid

From an old tin cup

I stood for a moment

And watched him sup

“If that stuff kills you

That would be a crime”

“Don’t worry” said he

“I can stop anytime”

THE ROAD TO OBLIVION

 

As a school kid

It was cider first

Then as a student

Wine came second

Then as a worker

The vodka came third

 

But it doesn’t stop there

So have a care and beware

 

Out every night

Drinking trebles

Never slowing down

Even seeing double

They never slow down

Never have a single

 

But it doesn’t stop there

So have a care and beware

 

Before breakfast

One eye opener

Mid morning at the office

Two snifters in the loo

A liquid lunchtime

Three large ones do it

 

But it doesn’t stop there

So have a care and beware

 

The lost weekends

Come first

Then the tremours

Follow a close second

Cirrhosis of the liver

Takes its place in third

 

But it doesn’t stop there

So have a care and beware

 

I’m only a social drinker

The first denial

I can stop if I want too

The second denial

I’m in control of the drink

The third denial

 

But it doesn’t stop there

So have a care and beware

 

In a gutter covered in vomit

Not for the first time

Coming round in casualty

More than the second time

Surrounded by medics

No way back the third time

 

It stops there

EVERYONE NEEDS A HOBBY

 

Everyone needs a hobby

And my dad is no exception

He has built up a rather large

Empty bottle collection

 

There is a name for it

It’ll come to me in a tick

It’s on the tip of my tongue

Oh yes, he’s an alcoholic

Uncanny Tales – (26) Waiting For God in Frinton

I’m in my sixties now and I started drinking when I was 15, which was in the early 1970’s.

I always looked older than my age, though not old enough to pass for 18 when I was three years younger but it was the 70s and landlords pretty much turned a blind eye to 15 and 16 year olds drinking as long as they didn’t look to out of place.

My first ever pint was in a pub called the Man in the Moon and it cost me 17 pence, and the first sip of that foaming brew set me on the road to oblivion.

 

I didn’t drink everyday but when I drank I didn’t hold back and I didn’t know when to stop. 

On one occasion, a Friday, I left work at 5.30pm and went straight to the pub, with that week’s pay packet in hand, in those days we got paid weekly and in cash, I woke up the next morning in a bus shelter with 3 pence in my pocket, I had pissed away a week’s wages in one night.

On a works beano one year we went on a day trip to France the more serious drinkers among our party drank nonstop for 26 hours and very nearly drank ourselves sober, one or two of the group had to be carried but the hardened drinkers walked back to the ferry.

 

On another occasion after a friend’s house party I woke up on the bedroom floor, having no idea how I got there.

It was only later when I spoke to my friends that I found out the whole story of what I had done and that they had carried/dragged me home.

They were good friends, who through my behavior, I gradually alienated one by one until there was no one left to get me home.

So I woke up in gardens, subways and gutters, I even woke up in a skip once with a kebab stuck to my face.

In the end I was disowned by my family and my only friends were fellow drunks.

 

Despite my drunken binges I still managed to hold down a decent job so when I was in my late twenties I moved to Woking to take up a very well paid job which served to fund my benders very well indeed.

On one particular weekend in September I had been drinking since breakfast and kept it up all day, by midnight all the pubs were shut, but a serious drunk always knows where to find a drink so I took a cab to Casper’s, a members only an all-night drinker.

It was there that I met Angela who would ironically become my salvation.

She was a good looking woman, around about my age, who was also a drunk, although the drink hadn’t yet diminished her looks.   

 

The next morning I woke up in the passenger seat of a car on the sea front in Frinton, with Angela sleeping beside me, slumped over the steering wheel.

I had absolutely no recollection of how we got there, or why we were there.

I got out of the car to stretch my legs and the bracing sea breeze almost knocked me off my feet.

I walked along the sea front, trying desperately to clear my head but things were no clearer 20 minutes later when I returned to the car.

Which by some miracle was parallel parked to perfection, and I marveled at how we had got from Woking to Frinton and lived to tell the tale.

 

However a sense of doom came over me as I looked at the bright blue Chrysler in front of me because although we had got to Frinton unscathed the car had not.
The front of the car carried all the hallmarks of a serious front end collision.

 

I roused Angela from her drunken slumber and got her out of the car and walked her up and down until the sea breeze had blown some of the cobwebs away.

“How the hell did we get here?” I asked

“Get where?” she mumbled

“Frinton” I replied

“Where the hell is Frinton?” Angela asked

I walked her further along the seafront until we reached a café that was actually open at 6.00am on a Sunday and several coffees later I got some sense out of her

“The last thing I remember we were in Casper’s and you said “I haven’t been to the coast for ages”” She said slowly “so we finished our drinks and got in my car”  

“And?” I pressed

“And then you woke me up” she said, head in hands

“Do you remember hitting anything?” I whispered

“No, like what?” Angela queried

“I don’t know” I replied “but whatever it was, you hit it hard”

 

It was after nine when we stood up to leave and a small group of fishermen were coming in as we were going out.

“All I know is old Joe was walking the dog when he got hit” one of them said

“And he’s dead?” asked another

“Yes and the driver didn’t stop” the first one replied   

What little colour had returned to Angela’s face while we were in the café instantly drained away as the realization of what she had done dawned on her as well? 

 

We returned to the car but Angela was too distraught to drive, I was suddenly stone cold sober so I got behind the wheel and chose a route that took us back to Woking via a circuitous route.

 

After that September Sunday all those years ago when some poor resident soul in Gods waiting room lost their life at our hands I lost my taste for booze.
I still see Angela from time to time, she still lives in Woking but she never came to terms with what we had done that day and surrendered completely to the demon in the bottle.
I see her around about town with the other winos and I believe she sleeps under the canal bridge.

I wonder if she sleeps any sounder than I do.

TWO WHALES WALKED INTO A BAR

 

Two whales walked into a bar

The first one said "Whiieeeeeaooooooo"

And the second whale retorted

“God you're so pissed Keanu"

BAD DRINKING HABIT

 

I went out for a walk,

Just round and about

When I saw in a doorway

An old down and out

Drinking brake fluid

From an old tin cup

I stood for a moment

And watched him sup

“That stuff will kill you,

Which would be a crime”

“Don’t worry” he said

“I can stop anytime”

ALCOHOLIC CHEESE # 1

 

If a cheese is tempted to drink

Too much, it should not

Because if it does succumb

It is at risk of Livarot

Uncanny Tales – (12) Foggy Mornings

 

The day began in a thick fog, both of the meteorological sort and of the mind, the former being a seasonal feature while the latter was as a result of the consumption of an excess of the local brew aptly known as brain damage and although the autumn sunshine very quickly burnt off the fog it had little or no effect on his alcohol induced mussiness.

His mouth was dry and furry and his eyes itched and he felt as if something was alive and crawling through his intestines and his head throbbed with every beat of his heart.
When he looked at the stranger with the bloodshot eyes staring back at him from the bathroom mirror he uttered those immortal words "never again”, and he meant it then, most sincerely because he felt so awful but by the day after next it would just be an unpleasant memory.
When he was a teenager he would get bladdered and next morning his hangover would only last a little over an hour and then he would be back in the pub at lunchtime.
When he was in his 20's it would last an hour longer, in his thirties he would forget the lunchtime session but be banging on the Pub door at five.
Now he was in his late forties his hangover lasted all day and sometimes even two, but they would go eventually so even when he said "never again" at the time he knew that he would still have the over indulgent fun and face the consequences.

 

WARNING TO DRINKERS # 3

 

New health warnings should be

On bottles and tins for us to see

Warnings clearly on display

That the consumption of alcohol may

Cause you to tell your friends again

And again that you love them