Today it’s exactly 666 days since I last drank any booze. I get married in 2 months so I’ll be celebrating the 2 year mark on my honeymoon. Pretty fitting I reckon, considering that I wouldn’t be getting married had I still been drinking. I was a different person – not particularly the marrying type – but also no woman in her right mind would have wanted to marry that guy. Skint, sweaty, selfish, paranoid, unhealthy… dashingly handsome though so, you know, every cloud an that.
That’s what I’ve always wanted, really. A huge cannon surrounded by an Alton Towers-esque fenced queuing system, where I can send endless processions of bad drivers to slowly shuffle their way towards the front of the pack. At the front they would be gently but efficiently loaded into the huge barrel by a squad of highly trained and super-friendly staff. Continue reading
I read a lot of stuff about quitting drinking, especially blog posts and stuff shared on social media about people’s own experiences of trying to quit. One thing that pops up quite a lot seems to be negative pressure; friends and family trying to convince the quitter that their problem isn’t really that bad, and that they should stop all this silliness and just have a drink like everyone else. This has NEVER happened to me, which must be a testament to the awesome company I keep. Man, if a friend tried to convince me that I was in the wrong for choosing to dodge the booze, or tried to guilt me in to getting drunk with them, I would have no choice but to stand tall and do the manly thing. I’d secretly pay someone to hit them for me.
…not in my world anyway, not anymore. I’m hurtling towards the 2-year marker, and I’ve reached a point where any residual habits or cravings have completely dried up. This is one of the reasons that my blogs have been getting less frequent – I’m just running out of things to say. Continue reading
In a few months I’ll have been sober for two years. It’s flown by, but the changes have been huge – and it feels a bit surreal when I look back at drunk Jon and his antics (the chubby scamp). In comparison life appears to have become quite ‘normal’. I keep fit, I visit friends, I go to gigs, I watch movies, I wash my car (okay that one’s a lie – I pay these local Polish guys to do it), I read books, and I’ve even grown up a bit and bought a flat with the missus. Continue reading
Last week I received some samples of Seedlip, which is described on their website as so:
Seedlip is a range of the world’s first distilled non-alcoholic spirits based on the distilled non-alcoholic remedies from The Art of Distillation written in 1651 and now re-purposed to pioneer a new category of drinks to solve the ‘what to drink when you’re not drinking dilemma’.
Back in my drinking days I could have never imagined anything more pointless than alcohol-free versions of classically alcoholic drinks, however I changed my tune on becoming sober, and these days I genuinely enjoy a chilled alcohol-free beer of an evening, and sometimes even alcohol-free wine is alright with a nice meal or whatever. These are drinks that taste nice though, and I don’t recall spirits ever being something I enjoyed the taste of – they just afforded me a quicker route to Spangledville. Maybe, for that reason, I’m not the right person to be reviewing an alcohol-free spirit. It’s probably like asking my dad to review an Insane Clown Posse album. It’s never going to be a glowing review. Continue reading
A lot of years ago, probably fifteen or so, a mate and I were pre-gaming back at my rented house in Huddersfield ahead of a night out at the town’s premier drinking holes. I lived on my own at that point so having mates around for booze and loud music was a common thing. On that particular night I vaguely remember we were smashing down strong glasses of vodka and coke, whilst listening to Coal Chamber or some other late 90s mosher tuneage.
Well, sort of. I played a gig a few years back down on the south coast of England. Or was it Wales? I don’t remember the name of the place, but it was when I was living up in Huddersfield and I remember the journey taking six or seven hours. It was in that fuzzy phase at the height of Petrol Bastard‘s hardcore gigging and drinking career – which meant that most weekends found us in a different city, and every weekend found me drunk off my bonce – gig or no gig. Continue reading
I’m aware that my blog is sometimes sickeningly positive, and even though sobriety has given me a second chance at life – just like life in general: there can be bad times. I’m really keen to keep all of the experiences I write about as unfiltered and as true-to-life as possible, so on that note – here is a little story about what happened to me this weekend, and about how being sober can sometimes (but hardly ever) be the problem rather than the solution. Continue reading
Alcohol problems are synonymous with depression and panic attacks. I don’t know whether it’s the sufferer who decides to medicate with alcohol, or the alcoholic who develops these issues due to the drink – but there’s definitely a correlation there. Continue reading