So it has come to this...
Due to concerns of both a personal and pecuniary pith, I am officially "on the wagon". I, who during the course of my adult life, have been referred to by numerous nomenclature of an intoxicated nature, such as: "Forty Ounce", "Drunky McKeg", "The Abyss", "Alcohol's Event Horizon" and so forth. Now, I embark upon my journey down a long and droughty road... a parched path devoid of my favorite indulgent elixirs, but lined with my myriad former mates-in-drink, whose still jubilant and jocular spirit-fed spirits serve to concurrently mock and tempt my newfound resolve.
Why, you may ask, choose dry? Well, it is simply an election born of necessity. This coming September, late in the month, I, along with family and friends, will embark upon a journey across the big pond to Bavaria's brilliant gem: Munchen, Deutschland. For the second time, I will be frequenting the Theresienwiese to hoist a masskrug or twenty as I celebrate Oktoberfest. Alas, as part of my preparation for this glorious pilgrimage, there are two major endeavors I must undertake: First... save some freaking money. It would probably be good to have some food in my belly with all the helles I'll be inhaling, and food costs Euros, gang (Dear Lord, please let the exchange rate rebound quickly). And second, speaking of my belly, I'm gonna need to drop about forty pounds if I have any prayer of fitting comfortably in an airline seat for the lengthy flight to Europe.
Well, there it is, folks... ten weeks to save a few hundred bucks and drop a few dozen pounds. So I now bid a tearful, yet temporary, adieu to my dear friend alcohol. See you in September, baby!
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