Got to Give It Up

 
I haven't been posting much original stuff here lately.  It seems like my page views took a nose dive when I shared my thoughts about god and religion.  People will be offended by my thoughts on this subject, but I'm likewise offended when a Christian says that anyone who hasn't accepted Jesus as their lord and savior is going to burn in hell.
I had a very uncomfortable psychiatrist appointment this week.  As usual, I met with her and the director of the mental health place I've been going to for a while now.  The appointment was going the way it usually does, when the director asked if I'd gained weight.  I admitted I had.  They began to interrogate me about the weight gain.  I was asked if I still exercise.  The answer was yes.  Then I was asked if I drink.  The answer was yes.  How much?  About 5 times a week.  This is where the mood in the room changed.  How much do you drink?  I had to do a little math in my head, because I usually drink vodka, and I measure out 1 ounce of it into each drink, which is 2/3 of a shot.  I answered that I drink about 5 drinks a day (5 times a week) or more.  The mood really got dark from that point on.  After all, it was clear that I was a fat drunk: definitely not the best day of my life.  Both of them stopped smiling and looked very concerned.  Then it was established that I've been drinking like this the entire time I've been on Prozac.  I was told that the combination of Prozac and the alcohol I'd been drinking wasn't good for my health.  They are concerned about my liver.  I need to see a doctor and get my blood tested.  It was also established that my friend thinks I'm annoying when I drink too much, and I black out regularly.  I was told these are enough good reasons to quit.  I was asked about other drugs.  I admitted to smoking weed a few times a month.  They seemed to be much more concerned about the alcohol.  I asked if I could finish what I had left: 4 beers and less than 1 bottle of vodka.  I was told I should pour it out.  I probably won't do that.  I plan to give it to a friend.
I haven't drank any alcohol since that meeting, which was 2 days ago.  I want to quit.  I'm much more likely to feel better the day after not drinking than if I had drank.  I don't like going to the liquor store.  I think liquor stores are evil places.  When someone goes into business manufacturing alcohol, or they sell it in stores, they are, in my opinion, involved in evil activities.  People drink themselves to death.  People drink and drive and kill others as a result.  People get drunk and become violent.  I'm hoping I can quit.  Unfortunately, alcohol is everywhere.
These are lyrics to a song by the great Thin Lizzy that are applicable:

       "Got To Give It Up"

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my mama and tell my pa
That their fine young son didn't get far
He made it to the end of a bottle
Sitting in a sleazy bar

He tried hard but his spirit broke
He tried until he nearly choked
In the end he lost his
Bottle drinking alcohol

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my brother I tried to write and
Put pen to paper but I was frightened
I couldn't seem to get the words out right
Right quite right

Tell my sister I'm sinking slow
Now and again I powder my nose
In the end I lost my bottle
It smashed in a casbah

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've been messing with the heavy stuff
For a time I couldn't get enough
But I'm waking up and it's wearing off
Junk don't take you far

Tell my Mama I'm coming home
In my youth I'm getting older
And I think it's lost control
Mama I'm coming home

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff  

Bumpkin Got Drunk

This is Gracie: one of our beloved neighbors.

I came home from work and immediately went to the fridge to get a beer.  It had been that sort of a day.  I knew I had 6 of them in there, but now there were none.  There was only one explanation: Bumpkin.  I marched straight to my bedroom, which has been taken over by 3 groundhogs: Bumpkin and her sisters Sloopy and Lucinda.  Sure enough, once again, they were watching Groundhog Day.  Well, only Bumpkin was watching it this time.  Sloopy and Lucinda were fast asleep among the empty beer cans.  I looked at Bumpkin.  She used her superpowers to lift the can, which was too large to be held by her paws, to her lips.  She took a sip.  Then she saw me.
"What is this stuff?  It's good." she said to me.
"It's beer, Bumpkin.  And I was hoping I'd be able to have some.  Now I'll have to go out and get some more if I want to have any."
"We do need more of it.  I feel like going for a ride anyway."
So we walked to my car, I opened the door for her, and she hopped in.  We were off to the store.  It didn't take us long to get there.
"I'll be right back," I said to her before going inside to purchase more beer.
"I'm going with," she replied.
Great.  I'm trying to maintain a low profile, because I'm with Bumpkin, who is planning to start a war (groundhogs vs. humans) for control of the world, and now I must walk into a supermarket with her.
"OK, Bumpkin.  But please don't kill anyone."
"If anyone disrespects me, or my sisters, there will be blood."
"But Bumpkin, it's bad enough when you're sober.  You've been drinking.  Alcohol impairs one's abilities."
"Not mine," she replied.  "Watch this."  She stood on her hind legs in the parking lot and promptly flung one of her fireballs of destruction from her left front paw at a flying seagull.  It was close, but she missed the bird.  Bumpkin was so confident in her abilities that she didn't even look to see if the fireball found its target.  "See?"
"Ah, Bumpkin, you missed."
"What?!"  She looked at the bird, who was still soaring.  "Holy crap!  I never miss!"  She fired another fireball.  This time, it hit the seagull, who burst into flames.  The poor thing continued to fly for as long as she could before crashing and burning.  "That beer must have made me miss.  This beer is no good!  Take me to it!"
"Now, Bumpkin, take it easy.   Please don't start any trouble."
"Just take me to the darn beer!"
"Yes, ma'am."  I can't argue with her when she's like this.  I took her to the beer section.  'This is it," I said to her.
She looked around a little before firing several fireballs at the store's beer stock.  People screamed and ran when they heard the explosions and saw the flames.  Cans of beer were exploding.  Bottles of beer were shattering.  She didn't stop until all the beer had been destroyed.
"You did it, Bumpkin.  You destroyed all of it," I said.
"Yeah, in this store.  Now let's go to the next one."
"Bumpkin, you can't destroy all the beer!  There's too much of it, and it's all over the place.  And that's not the only kind of alcohol either.  There's wine and liquor too."  Then it hit me: an idea.  "You want to take control of the world, right?"
"You know I will."
"Well, then, let the humans drink alcohol and impair their abilities and their health.  This will make them easier to defeat."
"You made a pretty good point: for a human."
So we went home and I never got to drink any beer that day.