Dry January is a monthlong challenge during which participants are encouraged to remain sober to improve their “health” and promote “responsible drinking habits.” Should you know someone insane enough to try it, never say these things.
“Wow, your liver looks amazing!”
It’s generally rude to comment on the appearance of a friend’s internal organs.
“Tonight we’re all going to the local brewery to eat buckets of spent grain.”
Don’t be rude and invite them to activities they obviously can’t participate in.
“You know that January is just a social construct established by Roman king Numa Pompilius, right?”
No need to be snarky.
“Here, rubbing alcohol will disinfect your stab wounds.”
Why tempt them like this?
“You could move to the Southern Hemisphere for part of the year and avoid Dry January altogether!”
You’re mixing up months and seasons.
“Ringo Starr is talentless, and anyone who thinks he brought anything to the Beatles is delusional.”
Few people can accept this reality without the help of alcohol.
“But you were always such a happy alcoholic.”
Don’t remind them that their alcohol dependence was the only thing that made them fun.
“How are you embarrassing yourself this month, then?”
Humanity has an endless aptitude for humiliation, with or without alcohol.
“That doesn’t sound like you, Billy Joel.”
Even Billy Joel needs a break from the sauce.
“You do know Dry January is for alcohol, not water?”
People don’t like being corrected, and besides, they’ll only last a few days without water anyway.
“The duke requests you join him for his nightly toast of Cognac Frapin Chateau Fontpinot.”
Do not tempt them with the favor of the duke!
“You’re ruining the autobiographical screenplay about our family.”
An alcoholic parent is great for awards season, but it may be good in the long run if your dad isn’t a drunk.
“Now you can take double the amount of Tylenol since your liver is free.”
While true, the price of name-brand acetaminophen has gone up 150% in the past three months.
“But we were supposed to drunk-drive and commit vehicular manslaughter together.”
Plans to commit crimes change; don’t make your accomplice feel guilty.
“All the booze could be gone by February.”
Up to them if they want to risk it.
“You’re completely jeopardizing your alcoholism.”
No one appreciates being confronted like that.
“Not even the soberest among us can escape the dark infinitude of death.”
Grappling with our impending mortality is challenging enough when drunk, let alone sober.
“Well, yeah, isn’t that a condition of your parole?”
Look, it’s better for everyone if we just pretend they’re doing this because they want to, okay?
