Live Like You Were Sober

Have you ever wondered what life would be like without any alcohol? I try not to. But sometimes, I think to myself all of the productive things I could accomplish if I laid off the sauce forever. As you read my list, please play the following Tim McGraw song, “Live Like You Were Dying”, so you can get the full effect of a life of sobriety.

• Go to the movies: Um, this is going to be a hard list to come up with. But seriously, that’s what sober people do, right? I suppose I couldn’t go Lux level however, since I am notorious for hitting the waitress button numerous times for more cocktails. Sigh…
• Be skinnier: Because quitting drinking is a diet in itself. I just always thought calorie counting while drinking was what Skinny Girl Margarita’s were for. I could also ignore fast food restaurants because let’s face it, we get fast food because it’s 2am and we are drunk and restless on our way home.
• Draw a still life of a bowl of fruit: If I can’t drink alcohol infused into crushed up grapes, fuck it, why not draw some grapes?
• Watch the movie “Ghost Dad”: If only they’d play that classic lux level. I’d pay to see it again. The best part is when *SPOILER ALERT* he comes back to life in the end of the movie and you’re all like, “Thank God, the Cos is back!”. Great movie all around.
• Play Scrabble: I am pretty good at this game when I play while having a glass of Pino, I bet I’d be even better while sober. Just with less confidence. The key to the game Scrabble is not about long and fancy words. It is all about obtaining the letter “Z”. If you can get “ZITI” on the board, bam! Game over for your opponent.
• Preach about sobriety: If I can’t beat all of those recovering addicts preaching and reciting the Serenity Prayer all over the internet, then why not join them? Instead of blogging about Call of Duty problems, white trash, Doug Funnie mental evaluations, and the gas pumping guy who looks like Lionel Ritchie/works at every APrime gas station in Quincy, I could just blog about my sobriety in every single entry. I could like, type the Serenity Prayer in different fonts and make it look elegant and classy. Fuck it, right? I could also go out to bars and order water on the rocks and judge my friends as loudly as possible until they hate me.
• Eat hummus: It just seems like a food that a sober person would eat. Hummus. Yeah, definitely would eat some hummus. I bet dead sober people also go for a run after eating hummus, then brag about it at the dinner table.
• Play the clarinet: Don’t mean to toot my own horn here, pun intended, but I played the clarinet back in elementary school. Was in the All Star elementary school band. Met at Lincoln Hancock every Tuesday, which I wasn’t pleased about, as I was of Wollaston descent and preferred to stay out of the west side. But nonetheless, I played a mean “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”. One of my friends even taught me how to play “My Heart Will Go On” on that bad boy. I was so good that if I was remotely alive at the time, I could have played on the Titanic as it was sinking to calm passengers down…if that even really happened. I rely too much on movies for facts, I guess. My loss.
• Take up smoking: Hey, we all have vices. I’m going to need one, too. I can’t just play instruments, preach, and watch “Ghost Dad” all day. And hummus won’t fulfill shit.
• Sport a fanny pack: Sounds about right.
• Pet a dolphin: I don’t want to swim with a dolphin because I’m a pussbag. I think it would be inspiring to pet one on the head instead.
• Play the parachute game: Remember in elementary school when your gym teacher would break out that giant parachute and make you play stupid games with it? Well, if I were sober I’d purchase a parachute and play a game again. Why? Because I can think of a way to incorporate drinking into pretty much any game ever made except the parachute game (unless you put a drunk person in the middle of the parachute and toss him around until he pukes?). I assume it’s the only sober game I could play.

So there you have it. That is my list of things I would do if I was told that I could never drink again. Thank God it hasn’t come to that. Until then, I’ll just drink until the sequel to “Ghost Dad” comes out.