is it worth "just saying NO" 

My name is Nash and I have been sober for four and a half days. Ok, I had a glass of champagne and orange juice on Sunday, for my sisters 18th, but that doesn’t count. It was only half a glass and it had orange juice in it. I’ll also have you know I haven’t had a cigarette since Friday night.

All in all it’s going pretty well. I do feel good. I haven’t had any insane craving, no uncontrollable urges to hit the hard tack. Though, the hip flask of whisky I mixed myself, at the 2009 Whisky Festival – a phenomenal success that I shall tell you about shortly, has been looking very attractive as the week draws on.

However, it may be worth noting that last night I dreamt that I was in India. Some local gave me a lift on a rickshaw, down India’s version of Long Street. I paid him R10 (no need to change currency in ones dreams) which was obviously the equivalent of his whole family’s income. So he decided to take me to an illegal roulette game, which was rigged. Not like I didn’t expect it. I was in India after all, and it was an illegal game. No worries though, I only lost R20.

I still had plenty to spend. Luckily, because just then a smoking hot blonde walked in. I’m talking phenomenally hot. Oh, and she had wings. Not her brown wings (the kind all guys want) the kind birds have - the ones with feathers. Though, she could have had her brown wings, I didn’t ask. We didn’t even get to have a drink.

Partly because she was a slave to the Indians, and partly due to the fact that flesh eating zombies were trying to break into the house we were in. I wasn’t too concerned, as I now had a rather powerful gun in my hand. After taking a few of the bastards out, I got down to creating a cure.

Obviously I managed to successfully concoct one, whilst killing zombies. I completed it just in time, saved the hot bird-chick, and cured myself. I did receive one bite from a zombie, but the bird-chick cleaned and bandaged it for me. She did a great job.

Which was a good thing, seeing as the boys had just arrived with a truck load of booze and a portable swimming pool, which they put just next to the 18th green…

I’ll be honest with you, my dreams don’t often follow that sort of storyline. They are normally, well, pretty normal. Surfing big waves, threesomes, surfing in Bali, foursomes, winning the WPT, sex with triplets, standard guy stuff.

I’m not saying these dreams have something to do with me giving up booze for a week, but I’m pretty sure they have something to do with this weird twitch I’ve developed in my left eye and hand. I can't be sure though.

I’ll give this “wagon” thing a few more days.

---