New Year Dieting Strategy For The Semi Functioning Binge Drinking Alcoholic.
You won’t eat until dinner time.
Less food means more drunk and that means less you, no inhibitions and that magical hallowed level of drunk where you’re the functioning life and soul of the party. So far you haven’t managed to attain this, but with your recent binging on self help books the New You is just around the corner and it’s time to leave your old shell behind and be positive about the future.
You set the ground rules for tonight. Only 10 pints of beer (since it’s a celebration) and no party food. That way you’ll stay on goal. You’d run this afternoon only you’re too hungover from last night’s pre-celebrations.
Tonight you’re going to be like something out of a Bacadi ad. A wild marauding sex beast. Look how this cunt acts with only 2 Bacardis! Imagine what you’ll be like with 20 in you!
It’s the New Year. Lighten the fuck up. You’ll be running all the miles tomorrow. Everything that was wrong about yesterday will be put right by the changing of the year.
Now let’s talk strategy cunts. If the night goes really well this is what your MyFitnessPal will look like.
You might even throw up half or all of the kebab by the end of the night so I guess that doesn’t really matter does it? Even closer to your calorific target..
Even closer to the new you.
You have drinks before you go out to stop feeling self conscious. Eventually you’ll hit the party and will feel drunk enough to be easy in your own skin. The night begins to go wrong when you start to feel great in your own skin. You’ve always been fucking great in your own skin. Only now it’s time to set these bastards and this stupid fucking world to rights on how you are fucking amazing and you’re not living by their standards anymore.
The 10 pints quickly go in you. Then the shots starts and at some point in the evening and your awful hunger has awoken and you’ve started downing all the party food you can find.
You feel ashamed at your fat fucking self and your lack of discipline. Why are you this way? Why are you so fucked up?
You can taste the sick forming in your throat as the New Year Count begins at 10 and Auld Lang Syne starts.
You join in reluctantly as you know nothing has fucking changed and THE EVENT that could fuck up your life for good is waiting just around the corner.
Post match analysis.
If you can’t remember the night before that means you must have had a fucking awesome time right? Wrong! You know you were texting people last night. You know you were on social media and the stink you left all over the internet will smell worse than kebab vomit.
Who did you offend? What did you say to who? Why can’t you relax and have 2 pints like everyone else? Time to go into hiding. Time to never drink again.
Seems impossible though. All the drama makes your life interesting and worthwhile, even though you know it’s getting harder to live this way.
You will make it work.
You have to make it work.