Just a quick note to tell you I had nothing to do with the substance in this photograph. It may well be in a secluded potential dogging spot (Monk wood Car Park you perverts) and it may look pretty incriminating to those of you with filthy minds, but I believe it to be some sort of organism, maybe a slime mould, maybe some sort of gelatinous worm creature, but just to let you know its not Jizz.

Well i’m 7 days into the new year as is everyone else apart from my followers in Tonga and the Cook Islands; they’re several years into the future by my estimations. And its now the end of the first week of the January abstinence. These are the stats as I see them. I’ve visited 3 pubs and drunk 7 bottles of non alcohol beer, the first 2 on new years day were grim, Corona zero if you’re wondering, don’t touch them. Then I had a break until Friday when I visited the Fox, volunteering to drive as I can drink a crate of the stuff now and zoom all over the countryside, the only difference being I’d usually be slightly drunk and so sitting in a car and travelling all over Worcestershire wouldn’t be win  my preferred list of things to do. So now I am mobile, self designated driver, which on reflection isn’t such a great position to be in as I have to follow my fellow drinkers around. We played some pool, ate some Cobs and it was all terribly civilised, is that particularly endearing? Some might  argue not really. I’m still sitting on the fence on this one. The third time was at my local for a couple of scoops with about 5 other folk, all drinking and all surprised and hesitantly congratulatory towards me in my self imposed famine. 

I’ve mixed feelings about it all, I enjoy a real pint with all the expected ingredients within; alcohol mainly, but its no great shakes not drinking really. It had become a habit for me at home during the week, maybe a couple of cans, sometimes more most nights, but with a couple of nights off. Never wine or spirits, they make me lose my shit, but I have got a rather splendid bottle of port which I’ve put in the gravy with the roast this evening, the alcohol is burnt off so just the trace of taste remains. I’m feeling clear headed and have grand plans going forward but must not get over stimulated; too many spinning plates have a tendency to collapse and shatter on the studio floor, like hopes and dreams. I’m treating this whole episode as I would a habit thing to trick myself into how it should all be going forward, I’m 52 for fucks sake, and would quite like to live another 48 years, I’m faffing around the world in my 60’s and would like to be able to have a few celebratory ales whilst getting up to fun things then. So with that in mind, I’ll stop munching my way through a half hidden left over box of after eights, concentrate on drinking water and children’s drinks next week, forgetting the alcohol free beers so much, some are tasty and some give terrific gas, but, so far, neither are both, in my painstaking studies. Really I should review them, maybe I will come week three, as for week two… bring it on.