Hello everyone, and welcome to The Imbiber: 2012 Edition. I, for one, am as happy as a beer-soaked clam to be here. Also thrilled to finally be rid of the historical blight that was 2011 – 365 dreadful days that shall henceforth be known as the Year of Felching. Why? Because any way you look at it, 2011 sucked serious ass.
Speaking of ass, a lot of us worked ours off last year and, frankly, don’t have a whole hell of a lot to show for it. So I say this year we take a different approach to the daily grind, one that consists mostly of avoiding said grind altogether. Let’s resign to make 2012 the Year of Dicking Around and see if the Occupy Living Room Sofa in Your Underwear movement catches fire.
For the dedicated dawdler, there is no better way to spend the bulk of one’s waking hours than trolling the great sea of irresponsible time management known as Twitter. And if the dawdler also happens to be drinker, well, you’ll find Twitter to be an almost unlimited source of inspiration. For a drunk in cyberspace, it’s the place to be.
For instance, thanks to @maggiejane, who tweeted a link to @WillGordonAgain’s review of Leroux Ginger Flavored Brandy, I now know what I’ll be drinking should this Year of Living Lazily destroy what’s left of my already severely decimated savings account. While it may very well “smell strongly of lemon dish soap” and be “marred by the cheap sting of $9 brandy,” the Leroux has at least two things going for it: it’s nine bucks, and it can’t possibly be as noxious as…
… ArKay, the world’s first alcohol-free whisky, which came to my attention via the @HuffingtonPost Twitter feed. One reviewer claimed sipping it made him “want to puke,” and another opined the nose is “horribly offensive, similar to that of a litter box.” Score one for lemon dish soap!
(And why in the hell would anyone want an alcohol-free whisky in the first place? That’s like going to the world’s best strip club and talking to the bouncer all night.)
According to a report tweeted by @BBCNews, four out of five British men are unhappy with their bodies, and cite “beer bellies” as their main cause for concern. Well, my advice to those four insecure chaps across the pond is don’t sweat it. A beer belly is hardly the sort of thing for any self-respecting Brit to get upset over, especially when there are so many other, more serious problems out there to contend with… like crooked yellow teeth, for instance.
Twitter is also the place for drinkers like me to connect with kindred spirits. Guys like @DownAndOutRambo who tweeted, “I think my problem on dates is that I am really awkward until I get drunk. Then I’m funny for about 5 minutes. Then I just get creepy.” And @JackCojiSan who tapped into the essence of Weepy Maudlin Boozehound-itude when he wrote, “Man, it’s gonna be depressing watching all those scenes of me getting drunk and crying myself to sleep when my life flash before my eyes.”
Twitter’s the place to keep up with your favorite celebrities, like @DRUNKHULK, who is not only Cyberspace’s reigning poet laureate – “TWO BEER EMERGE FROM FRIDGE! AND DRUNK HULK! DRUNK HULK TAKE LESS FROSTY ONE! AND THAT MAKE ALL DIFFERENCE! — but also has the courage to address his ongoing struggle with alcohol dependency — “DRUNK HULK TRY QUIT DRINKING! BUT THEY NO MAKE WAGON BIG ENOUGH FOR DRUNK HULK!”
(One important note when replying to @DRUNKHULK’s tweets: Whatever you do, DO NOT make him angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.)
Of course, the very best thing about Twitter is that it affords you the opportunity to express yourself. To offer the world a window into your soul 140 characters at a time. So with that, I’ll leave you with this, from my own @TheImbiber feed. It’s a mantra for this, our year of slothful disregard for industriousness. May it serve you well my fellow bums…
“There are 2 rules to remember if you want to have a good time. Rule #1: never run out of Colt 45. Rule #2: never forget rule.. number.. one.”