Drinking Game

I’m past the age of playing games whose sole intention (and outcome) is getting shit-faced drunk.

However, I had to chuckle at Tom Utley’s suggestion:

Earlier this month I invented a game to cheer myself up through these short, chilly days of January. I’m not claiming it will work for everyone, but readers may care to give it a try.

The rules are simple. All you have to do is award yourself an imaginary £10 every time you hear the words ‘mental health’ uttered on the radio or TV, or read them in the media.

Poor Tom can’t actually make it a drinking game, because he writes for a newspaper and no doubt some scold will go after him for encouraging reckless behavior.

I, however, am under no such constraint.

Giving yourself money is a pointless exercise;  but if you turn it into a drinking game and substitute “down a shot”, I can guarantee hours of joyous inebriation.

Other such puke-inducing phrases can be used, such as “circle back” (during Jen Psaki press conferences) and “state of emergency” (unless used in an actual emergency e.g. tornado or hurricane), “safe space” and so on.

Feel free to add your favorite puke-inducing phrases in Comments.

Never Left It

According to some idiot (no link because TIME magazine, fukkem):

It’s Time to Go Back to the Joy of Social Drinking

As pandemic lockdowns ease and we return to ordinary life rhythms, the revival of social drinking should be embraced with euphoric gusto. The shared experience of music, happy chatter, effortlessly synchronized conversation, rising endorphin levels, and reduced inhibitions catalyzed by a few glasses of ethanol has been impossible to replace with Zoom chats, and it is something we’ve been desperately missing. Let us look forward to once again celebrating the ancient, distinctly human joy of sharing a pint or two among friends.

Yeah, I suppose he means something like this:



…or even this:

Hate to say it, buddy, but that’s the way I always drink and no, I didn’t stop during the Covidiocy.

The Nite before Hannukah

(With apologies to my Tribe Readers)

Twas the night before Chanukah, boichiks and maidels
Not a sound could be heard, not even the dreidels
The menorah was set by the chimney alight
In the kitchen, the Bubbie was hopping a bite
Salami, Pastrami, a glaisele tay
And zoyere pickles mit bagels– Oy vay!

Gezint and geschmock the kinderlach felt
While dreaming of taiglach and Chanukah gelt
The alarm clock was sitting, a kloppin’ and tickin’
And Bubbie was carving a shtickele chicken
A tummel arose, like the wildest k’duchas
Santa had fallen right on his tuchas!

I put on my slippers, ains, tzvay, drei
While Bubbie was eating herring on rye
I grabbed for my bathrobe and buttoned my gottkes
And Bubbie was just devouring the latkes
To the window I ran, and to my surprise
A little red yarmulka greeted my eyes.

When he got to the door and saw the menorah
“Yiddishe kinder,” he cried, “Kenahorah!”
I thought I was in a Goyishe hoise!
As long as I’m here, I’ll leave a few toys.”
“Come into the kitchen, I’ll get you a dish
Mit a gupel, a leffel, and a shtickele fish.”

With smacks of delight he started his fressen
Chopped liver, knaidlach, and kreplach gegessen
Along with his meal he had a few schnapps
When it came to eating, this boy sure was tops
He asked for some knishes with pepper and salt
But they were so hot he yelled out “Gevalt!”

He loosened his hoysen and ran from the tish
“Your koshereh meals are simply delish!”
As he went through the door he said “See y’all later
I’ll be back next Pesach in time for the seder!”
So, hutzmir and zeitzmir and “Bleibtz mir gezint”
he called out cheerily into the wind.

More rapid than eagles, his prancers they came
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name
“Come, Izzie, now Moishe, now Yossel and Sammy!
On Oyving, and Maxie, and Hymie and Manny!”
He gave a geshrai, as he drove out of sight
“A gut yontiff to all, and to all a good night!”

Sorry it’s late, but Mervyn only got round to sending it me me last light.