Some Christmas tales: ode to the people I know and I like.
And, by the way, I realized I might have a slightly alcohol problem.

Liver says fuck! and in one week I experience the last 12 months

Christmas week is over. Started the 21st, ended tonight, in this shitty airport (as always with Ryanair). What is left for me? Not the liver for sure, it should be long gone by now.
If I stay clean tonight and I'm not tempted in buying some of the overpriced alcoholic crap on the plane then this would be my first night without reaching the edge of being drunk.

Without sport, I'm just a sad and pathetic alcoholic. But at least I'm surrounded by so many beautiful people than are more than willing to share another last drink ("last drink" is an oxymoron by the way) with me, remembering the good old times of 10 minutes ago, when the "last but not the real last" drink was emptied in one gulp. Great times.

Don't trust someone who doesn't drink, a sentence of a great book received as a Christmas gift ("Another Bullshit Night in Suck City" - how can a title get better?).  And usually I don't. I make some exceptions for someone too far to drink with me or someone too gay (even if he's not, but the word metro sexual was invented for him, and now he's a proud dad of a daughter and a son) and that's it.

Even my dog would share a drink with me if he could.
My dad does. My sister does. My mum does. My friends do.
All in different times, all in different locations, all in different drinks. I'm the minimum common denominator.
And oh God I love it.

But I love sport too and next month is my annual "stay away from alcohol" month. If I'd break my ankle again, or if I will injure my back more than it is now, well, George Best's first liver you found a proper competitor.

I love Christmas. Ok, technically Jesus was born probably in the summer or in the autumn and the 25th originally was a pagan festivity. But, really, who cares?
Christmas is about much more than that. For me, I can go back once a year in my small town and spend more time than I usually do in my traditional spring visit with the people I know and I love. Ok, some of them don't like me but hey, it's Christmas and the Meister is back in town to share his uncommon love.
Girls, please queue.

This time, instead of just relaxing and let it go by randomly meeting whoever I could, I decided to schedule almost all my week to fit as many people as possible. Obviously my schedule collapsed (alcohol and work didn't help keeping the timing right). But I was still surprised by how many people I randomly met after many years of silence.

Even an old auntie, the oldest woman in my family. The last time she spoke with me was 10 years ago, to give me the condolences about the death of my grandma. I wasn't even 18 back then, and buying porn for me was illegal. The time before that was around 25 years ago. I couldn't even say the word "porn" back then (but I bet my dad could).

Even on my visit to the remote city of Bassano del Grappa (best grappa ever) I met more people than know me than in my home town. And I even recognized them too. I don't know if some of them were very happy to see me there but, again, it's Christmas, give us a kiss and a hug(ga) and some grappa.

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