Schizophrenia and Alcohol; The story of different types of drunks

Well my friends it's been a long time since I have written to you. Allow me to start by re-affirming how utterly amazing you all are and that if it was within my power, I would without a doubt make gentle love to each of you in the amber glow of the morning sun, just as a snowdrop blossoms its preemed white petals to welcome the start of winter. Afterwards we would hold eachother in the cold morning and watch as the embers of the throbbing fire in our idyllic log cabin that doesnt exist anywhere, flint outwards; each taking flight before landing perfectly on our white tiger rug, thus setting alight the entire ambiance with a verve that is only matched by the 'power of love' sung by Il Divo. Yes my friends, my ridiculously pointless blog has returned. So what happened Deco? Why didnt you write in so long? Well, I got lazy. Thats it. Moving on. Did you achieve your goal of not drinking until Christmas Eve 2009 last year?...... I feel I must be honest, sadly I did not. I broke 3 weeks before Christmas. The festive season of wonder and love penetrated my objective faster than a gigantic penis beckoning a lady garden. BUT not to worry because like the ending of the mighty ducks, I didnt win but I learned something far more valuable; That alcohol is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! So where does the blog go from here? Adventures? Activities? Stories? Who knows? Who actually cares? I'd like to think we can still observe and report on the by-products of drinking no matter what they are. So, this brings me back to the title topic; The story of different types of drunks. We all react differently to alcolor. Whether you are one of those people who transforms into an absolute bollox or the person who uses the words 'love' and 'you' in such a deep sense when talking to your close friends, that your eyes close and you literally conjure tears to demonstrate how serious you are. Perhaps you're a shy axe murderer who just needed the little push from Dutch Courage to kick off that haywire killing spree that has been making its way down your to do list? - for obvious reasons. WHO KNOWS? The most interesting part of this topic to me is the notion that people tend to believe 'the truth comes out when one is drunk'. I personally believe there is a level of truth to this common statement. Not to the point where-by I believe it should be used to interrogate criminals; Although if we did get Jessica Fletcher drunk im sure she would confess to being the one behind all of the deaths in Murder She Wrote; her life is just too fucking convenient for me to believe shes just writing a bloody novel, the bitch. Anyway, what do we know about being drunk and letting go of our feelings? The big castle wall that guards that thing we just cant put our finger on? Well the beauty of my musing here is that there is no real answer which allows me to make up as much nonsense as I like. But like my other posts, I will be as candid as I always am. I believe when someone tells you something when they're drunk; however profound, it tends to be rooted somewhere deep inside. Whether it be they have feelings for you or that they just think you're one big stupid prick that flaps around pointlessly in the wind. How deep can we dive with this topic?... Lets see; Why do they think that? What is the perception this person has of me? What do they know about me? What have others told them? Do they have jealousy problems with the fact they're nose looks like a beak? All of these wonderful questions and more, can help determine why someone might blurt something out that they otherwise wouldnt when sober. But as we've come to learn in my previous posts, alcohol slows the brains cognition, it relaxes the mind and transforms it slowly, from the perfect functioning super computer that it is into a direct translation of Brian Cowans recent radio interview; numb, incomprehenisble and horribly slurry. But the reality is that we've all had our cringe-worthy moments. But, how many of you can honestly say there are some things you dont regret doing when you were absolutely puddlefucked? I'll have one from the top and six from anywhere else please Carol. What? Exactly, pay attention. The thing we also need to note is that different drinks produce different types of drunks. Crazy drunks, stupid drunks, nice drunks. We're all victims of our own subjective nature. Vodka for instance sends me into an uncontrollable frenzy where I'm likely to do anything from telling Samantha Mumba to fuck off in Barcode, to reciting 'On Raglan Road' to a homeless person that did in fact look like Patrick Kavanagh, sitting on Raglan Road - both actually happened. Beer turns me into a sloppy slurry slobby blobby floppy mess and wine turns me into a wannabe connoisseur. In any case, what we need to know is that if we want the portcullis to remain closed, perhaps we should moderate what we drink. Finally, a series of offensive words; Fuck, bollox, shite, offensive, twat, jerk and you big silly bastard.

Bottom line 23 - Im convinced its been Jessica Fletcher all along.

Normally I outline what my next blog topic is going to be but instead of keeping it confined to the realms of Alcohol, im going to close this blog down and post on random things.

Lets blow up this bubble and see where it takes us :-)

Slan mo Chara,

Deco