"You can't drink on a wagon it would be too bumpy."

As has been documented here, I have been sober since Friday, April 1. That is, until last Sunday, when I drank a Miller Lite with no ill consequences (literally). So, for education's sake, I will answer your questions about the experience.

"Dude, I'll bet you saved some fucking bank!"

Correct. Take the first weekend of sobriety:

Friday - $3.00 (tall mocha + tip)
Saturday - $1.00 (Coke), $2.00 (7 jukebox selections)

Those tracks powered my roommate and myself to dart superiority over bitter our rivals. The soundtrack to greatness was:

Beck - Lord Only Knows
Jackson Browne - Doctor My Eyes
David Bowie - Suffragette City
Pixies - Where is my Mind
The Who - Pinball Wizard
Son Volt - Drown
Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want

I think that's even the order in which the songs were played - pretty good considering I wrote that list the Monday after. Which leads us to…

"Dude, I'll bet your memory improved!"

Well, it may have - it certainly improved my odds of remembering what music played, how bad Harbour Lights smelled, how loud my table was, and other bar goings-on, but I have no way to prove any change in my mental capacity. I guess I should have done crossword puzzles before and during the experience.

"Dude, I'll bet you felt better!"

There was no discernable difference in my physical health during my sobriety. This was mildly disappointing; even though I don't get drunk very often, I still hoped that deleting alcohol entirely would give me scary new energies.

"Dude, I'll bet that sucked raw!"

Yeah, kind of. Drinking or not, the nights at the bar usually drag for me - I'm usually ready to leave before bar close. For the first several weekends, I didn't fidget any more than usual. Toward the end of the experiment, not coincidentally, I was pretty bored. My return to the bottle isn't going to solve the boredom issue, but it isn't going to hurt, either.

"Dude, so you can drink again now?!"

Indeed. Last Sunday, I woke up, ate a slice of cold pizza, and enjoyed a can of Miller Lite at 10:30 a.m. I stayed around the house the rest of the day, preparing the garden for tomatoes, waiting to note any adverse reactions. Happily, the generic Flagyl mixed with booze did not cause me any problems. For the record, the only side effect I've noted with the drug is the gross-ass taste, and as the package insert says, "A sharp, unpleasant metallic taste is not unusual."

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Other stuff for today:

1.> Conan O'Brien wrote a funny thingy:

Televisions will eventually grow so large that families will be forced to watch TV from outside their homes, peering in through the window. Random wolf attacks will make viewing more dangerous.

2.> If, with any of my girlfriends, I ever, EVER, made anyone as queasy as this Tom Cruise / Katie Holmes thing is making me...well, I am really, really, really sorry.