Psychology

Humor Drinking



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Ahhh Friday afternoon approaches and the weekend has arrived! Therefoe the treacherous slog of the working week comes to a close. Usually in Britain it's a common law procedure to go for the after work obligatory drink to quench the stresses, and put the office politics to bed. But the word 'obligatory' is just a phrase to lure you and your co-workers into devouring a barrel of beer and dancing around your laptops and Blackberry's with your tie on your head!

This is neither clever or professional!...But we are hardworking adults looking for escapism and ways to unwind. But with such an array of knowledge, qualifications and endless years of education, you'd of thought there would be much more sophisticated methods of practice in this matter? Yes there are plenty of ways to de-stress such as; Yoga, listening to whale music, reading a book in the bath or lounging on the sofa watching mind numbing television. But we choose the wiser method and antics of drinking copious amounts of fluorescent coloured alcoholic tubes and acting like children dizzy on lemonade!

As a 24 hour socializing society, we now have the ability of not knowing when we have filled our boots with beer. We can go bar hopping till dawn, dance in a psychotic manner, and get swizzled to the brink of where, stubbornly your legs refuse to work and you have found the natural ability to talk like a deranged wasp on magic mushrooms! You awake to find that you are sleeping in your neighbours dog kennel with their over-friendly Rottweiler.

After the coming back down to Earth journey commences, and you have prized yourself out of the Rotweiler's leir. You have the head wrenching task of finding where you live and who you are, the military navigation of trying to put your key in the front door... And to tell your story to your not so happy partner regarding your alien abduction! This is of course not such an easy situation to get yourself out of. As your partner has probably spent the night clock watching, fed your dinner to the cat and cursed you more than Linda Blair form the Exorcist! Then comes the shame of facing your equally abducted co-workers on Monday morning.

Usually during the course of the following Monday at work, you can notice the woozy strained eyes of your colleagues trying to fathom out who was smooching with who? Fell on their arses with undercrackers on show? and who told the boss that he was a total fruit-loop?! even after all the shamefull drunken, dizzy on lemonade-childlike antics, you can guarentee that we will do it again the following Friday.

And why?...because I believe it's my taxpaying right to participate in this obscure manner after paying my dues, and acting out air guitar to 'Highway To Hell' in the style of Angus Young in the pub on a Friday night is perfectly acceptable.

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