Tuesday, December 30, 2014

No thanks, I'm molting.

Many people don't drink, and for a wide variety of reasons. Myself included. Not that I have anything against anyone who does drink; go knock yourself out.

But New Year's is barreling toward us, one of two nights of the year when the amateurs come out to play (the other being St. Patrick's). And booze noobs and hard-core drunks have this in common: They want everyone else to get loaded along with them.

It's amazing how people in middle age or older suddenly turn into 14-year-old dopes when it comes to holidays. The peer pressure can be tough, and take several forms. The overwhelming tray of martinis in your face as you enter the party. The constantly repeated squeals over how wonderful this wine is---life-changing, even! (For some of us it would more life-changing than others.) The question every five minutes as to what you will have to drink and why are you not drinking.

It's no one's business why you don't drink, of course, but sometimes you don't want to share it because it's embarrassing or you just resent being asked.

Fortunately, Fred has some suggested answers for you, guaranteed to shut the questioners up. Or not; drunk people have poor memories, and you may need to repeat yourself.

"Hey, wanna drink?"
  • Oh, sorry; just drank fifty and might heave at any second.
  • My new religion prevents me from partaking. Speaking of which, do you have twenty minutes to talk?
  • Can’t drink tonight. On call at the emergency brain surgery unit.
  • I suffer from overflow incontinence. One drink and I’m peeing all over the floor.
  • Say, didn’t I see your picture in the newspaper? The police blotter, wasn’t it?
  • Sorry. Ebola.
  • One more drink and my liver will explode out of my abdomen like in Alien.
  • I’ve got this allergy to all organic compounds in which the hydroxyl functional group is bound to a saturated carbon atom.
  • [Wavering side to side] Frankly, haven’t you had enoupp mcglorplatz figgle stan?
  • That is not the way of my people.
  • Back to your old roofie game, are you? Hey, this bozo’s trying to slip me a mickey!
  • Sorry; drinking alcohol reminds me of my late cat, poor Mrs. Fluffypaws. [Bawls hysterically]
  • Only if I can get it with marshmallows and a splash of absinthe and a little umbrella and a cherry. And on fire.
  • No thanks, I’m lactating. [Best used by guys]

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