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99 Bottles of Jose

99 bottles of Jose on the wall, 99 bottles of Jose.



Take one down



Pass it around



98 bottles of Jose on the wall.


98 bottles of Jose on the wall, 98 bottles of Jose.



Take one down



Pass it around



97 bottles of Jose on the wall.



Wait, 97?! 

Too close to 94, need some more


Go to the store



Buy some more



99 bottles of Jose on the wall.



Holy hell dude!! HAHAHA

Can you imagine how long a post like that would take?!! 


Full disclosure, there were actually 4 more Jose's... just didn't work with the 99 jingle...


additional disclosure, there were 24 other rando's in the mix.



Yeah, 127...



Wait, what?

but where?


Stowed away in the blind spot back in the tupperware cabinet.



Can't rock the bottles on top of the kitchen cabinets like a 24 year old who's flexing on his own bachelor pad apartment!.. 


standards people! :)

Speaking of standards, once I reached boss level, Jose and his friends were no longer parked in the cabinet... Instead they found themselves in the freezer achieving the most optimum temperature for the perfect degree of consumption...  Not to mention, it slipped famously inside the well designed holster for a quickdraw pour. 



Das a'gud kinda temperature! 



In mine and Chas's earlier years we couldn't much afford the poisonous pleasures vulnerably shared here with you.  The real bite came a year or so after I started the Gud life.  At least for me, coming home and having a beverage was a victorious feeling.  Much like when someone would get done mowing the lawn.  Sure the drink cools you down, but it was that "ahhhhh" moment of a commitment fulfilled.


There's no doubt about it, as much as I love the Gud work in using my hands, everyday was victorious.  After enough consistency, I had that special cup.  Much like the Dad chair, or Mom's spot on the couch.  Mine was an unexpected Game of Thrones cup. 



Like a family pet, that buddy was with me everywhere! :)



The joy of drinking would trickle into doing playful photo-shoots where I'd be artistically deliberate in my placement.  After an awesome ass picture, I would send it to friends being playful, but also letting them know I was thinking about them.




Here my late Bonus Dad, Papa John, would equally retaliate to my pictures.  Each trying to one-up each other.  *His pictures are refreshingly placed with mountain scenery. 



If you enjoy yourself long enough, one is bound to have a party foul... care of my excited shop dog (RIP), tipped Daenery's Targaryen over and broke'r in half. 



I punted for a while but eventually settled for a bullet proof metal thermos-like one.  Would hold the cool temps against the hellish summer heat.



Like the other pet.. sure'nuff... found itself by my side on the regular. :)



The key to any fantastic beverage is the balance of flavor. More so known the mixture ratio.  I wasn't dignified, nor patient enough to make well crafted margarita's.  My choice was a poorman's version.  Any of my mixed drinks consisted of no more than two ingredients.. three if you count ice.


Alcohol + juice + ice = sunshine in a cup.

When I was a connoisseur of beer, I would collect my beer tabs or bottle caps and keep them in my pocket until the night was done.  This would allow me to keep an effective count on how much I was consuming.  Much harder to do with mixed drinks.... 


or is it?..


Me nerding out next level... I discovered that 50ml = 1 shot.  Therefore if I wanted a 1:1 ratio, strong, there'd be 50ml of Jose to every 50ml of juice or mixture. 


See it explained in examples below.. HA! :)




This way allowed for efficient counting of how much I was drinking/or knew what my limit was.  Smart drinking is drinking with math, right? haha :)  I always started with the liquor then added the mix and did the simple 50+50+50 math to get the shot count.


This kind of mixture recipe made it easy to share the consistent drink making with Chas when I wasn't near the drink making station.  I learned to tell her in greater detail what I meant when I said pour me 3 please.  One time after already having finished a mixed cup, I asked for another.  I said a pour to 3 please.  Chas heard 300.  That meant the drink I received to keep tipping back should have consisted of only 3 shots.  But this time it was 6 shots.  I didn't do the math until the next morning when I was recovering from a loose night of playful inebriation.


By now I'm sure I'm drawing a concerning conclusion of the silliness of seriousness.  Note, what made all of this easy for me was that I didn't really have bad mornings the night after.  When drinking I thankfully never suffered from anger or emotional outbursts.  Just consistent looseness. 

 

Only thing I would really dive into/abuse would be the food.  Beyond that, anyone would tell you, I was a good time.  A Dad who'd been known to play video games into the night, meanwhile ordered delivery takeout food at 11pm, while Mom was sleeping, thereafter me and the boys were getting after it till early in the AM's.  The next morning often included recovery food.  Which the boys, like a dog waiting for the toddler to drop food on the ground, were there bright and bushy tailed excited for what breakfast would be.  


I almost never drank due to the stresses of life, but really drank because I was in a good mood.  I was in a good mood a lot.  At my peak of consumption, I could regularly put down a 250 pour (5 shots) in one evening after work.  On a Friday, or a Saturday after a flag football game, oofta! Could easily push the 10+ envelope. 


Despite the ease of intense regular consumption, I did not enjoy the costs of what being so loose cost in the real money sense, and in the finite-life sense.  I did the math on the bottle cap collection above... that's floating near $2,800.  


Dude! That's two sets of really decent, good ass tires.,.. like 8 tires!

Disclaimer for concern, should've started with this at the beginning of the post... the Jose bottle cap / bottle bag collection is over the last FOUR years - approximately.  Definitely not a years worth.  I mean, I am human. hahah! :)  


No surprise likely, again, nerd level action, I have a folder gallery in my phone that has all of these fantastic action pictures categorized.  Which means I can quickly query when a photo was taken. 



Frist pic early 2019, last pic, April 2024.  I didn't start keeping bottle caps until I got good at buying them. hahah! 


All that to be said, I was keenly aware of what was going on and likely needed to pull back the throttle some.  It was through my commitment of drinking that discovered I only had two speeds when it came to getting after things...

 

On, or Off.  No in between.

With that understanding, I did what any pragmatic drinker would do, rather than just cutting back.  I cut the damn thing off.  I did so by epically relinquishing my drinking companion the way a Viking sends off their dead, or better yet, the way a Samurai ends their life of service...


By falling on their sword.  Mine just happens to be a huge ass vice in my shop.

 



From that point on I started to battle with myself.  Drinking didn't complete the task like it used to.  My tolerance stepped up towards and easy 10 and my feelings of inebriation, looseness was followed by frustration because I felt nothing or not as much as I needed.


There was a time were I took a full month off from drinking.  I didn't notice a change in energy or in my sleep.  Honestly, it was a bit a of a waste I felt.  So I got back after it and started to make my pours not as strong.  I even evolved into a smaller cup.  That damn metal straw though! wow! begged to be drank from! haha  Didn't help with the positive words of encouragement I read with each sippy sip! 



The wisdom of old age started to settle in.  The costs of this liquid treat was measured and self-scrutinized.  Although I can off the rip do quick math on the bag above, I also have a section in my financial spreadsheet itemizing what I've spent in alcohol: nerd level. 


In the dance of wanting to cut back, more like a wrestle, I would pour what I just bought a day before down the sink.  All to find myself wanting to binge out, chill out, after a good day of work the following day.  I started to buy smaller bottles just to limit the impact.  Eventually I could go about 3 days between wanting a beverage.  Still a grind.


I guess it really took time to land safely back on the ground.  I've been seeing a very good holistic doctor for almost two years now.  All being 100% upfront and honest with him.  Just as he is me.  He told me in a direct sense, you're on the freeway and we just passed a sign that says "Diabetes ahead"... we don't know when, but it's coming.


Realizing that I am burning days at the end of my journey, I took considerable steps to draw back.  None of this ever was stress induced, but in time, the joy of just wanting to chill was negated and the stresses of real estate and the poor decision of the Goall biz, I was for sure wanting a drink to temper the stresses. 


The start of the year, 2024, I found myself in a clearer head than years before.  Maybe it was my time after the hellish 2020 year of all our losses and needing to be the one to maintain strength, for the last 2 years I've more or less just meandered and worn myself out.  Drinking sure helped that sting.


For 2024, I went into things letting go of old shit and focusing on what I was good at.  Although I drank and still enjoyed the drink, I needed it less.  Nonetheless, diabetes was on its way if things didn't change.  Doc said I'd like you to limit the alcohol, maybe no more than a drink or two a day.  I was like, I'd be better off quitting.  As if to cut me off, as soon as I finished that statement, he said I'd rather you did.


Not easy.

Figured I'd enjoy vacation this year, not as hard, but consider a change in July when we returned.  I called it "dry July".  Dry July lasted about 4 days.. damn July 4th. haha! even though my surrounding friends were hella supportive, I did cut loose, having dipped into a few drinks - nothing crazy.  Felt bad about it the day or so after.  


To my surprise, my best buddy called me and told me to keep after it.  He was happy for my decision and was inspired to rock a dry July too.  Tristan decided to give up sugar for his July.  I was on the mend with awesome support!...


Well until a really stressful real estate showing.  It was the buyer.  Chas was under full control of the situation, but man, it was driving me mad.  I deliberately broke my dry July, drove to Frys and bought me a drink. 

Man it felt good!.... but it was the first time I was able to identify a trigger.  I wasn't too happy about it.  I remember pouring the drink and Tristan telling me why he gave up sugar.  Chas was being supportive to me while trying to ease Tristan's mild guilt trip, but heartfeltly lead motivational tactic.


There was a mandatory high school football parent meeting on July 15th.  It was a Monday, a day I could have tipped one back, but couldn't because of school.  The goal was to hold out until my birthday, August 31st, to make up for a halfass dry July... you now, I'll see about waiting until my blood draw, 9/16.  As I neared 9/16, I was like, you know, eh, lets go until my Dr's appt 10/16. 


that was nine days ago... sill dry. :)


Today makes for 101 days no alcohol.

I still playfully bitch about it.  I contemplate getting some regularly.. but the want to leave the house to go pick some up is gone.  I sleep better now.  I don't have all that $$$ going to waste either.  There have been non hangover mornings where I have gone out and bought shit food and binge ate what I would normally, but in this case, did so soberly.  None of that was without a playful bitch about not being ish'ly hungover... but, good decision nonetheless.


In light of 101 days, knowing how many bottle caps were in the bag, knowing how infectious the "99 bottles of beer on the wall" jingle can earworm into the brain, I couldn't not celebrate the win, while being vulnerably playful about something that is honestly very serious.  

I'm grateful to the universe that it didn't cost me more than self awareness - unlike so many others who have all but ruined their life, or worked their ass off, and still work their ass off to not go back.  


Tomorrow will be 102 days :)  I just had to share the latest with a buddy! 

I am here for you if you need one.


Although a rough set of pictures throughout, who knew Jose Cuervo bottle caps could be so pretty when photographed. 


Have a grateful weekend! :)




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