Yes the sobriety carries on unhindered.

My only problem is holding down the smug git inside of me. I had an email from a mate listing all the drinks he'd had at the weekend. I had to do my best not to reply with the goverment recomended number of weekly units for a man (like a tosser).

So I thought I might introduce you to my other little project. I'm trying to get the Spinnaker Tower, see pic,

Into The World Federation of Great Towers, see logo,

So far I have written this letter to the Spinnaker Tower.

The Spinnaker Tower
Gunwharf Quays
Portsmouth
Hampshire
PO1 3TT
30 January 2007

Dear Sirs

WORLD FEDERATION OF GREAT TOWERS

I was recently made aware of the above organisation while waiting to take the exhilarating ride to the top of the Fernsehturm Tower in Berlin. The windows at the base of the tower display silhouettes, locations and vital statistics of the other members of the World Federation of Great Towers.

While waiting it occurred to me that Portsmouth’s Spinnaker tower was not represented; at 170 meters high the Spinnaker is certainly big enough and pointy enough to truly be one of the world’s great towers.

I have always felt that the function of the Spinnaker tower was to put Portsmouth on the map internationally, as well as to provide a constant reminder to the residents of the Isle of Wight that the people of Portsmouth know how to build a tower, this is why I feel the Spinnaker Tower should take it’s place in the World Federation of Great Towers.

I trust you will consider my suggestion carefully.

Yours faithfully

Philip Knight,

Citizen of Portsmouth, London and the World.

As you can see I sent this letter nearly a month ago and, as yet, I've had no response. I was planning on following up my letter today, but the Federation's website seems to be down.

I hope they've not packed it in, they were doing such a fine job representing the worlds enourmous pointy buildings. How are the giant pointy buildings of this world going to get noticed without The World Federation Of Great Towers.

Watch this space, this is a campaign!

All is well in sober land. So far I’ve been riding a smug wave. I’ve made it through a lunch time drinks; a leaving drinks and a Friday night at the pub until one a.m. On Friday a colleague told me that he admired me. I’ve not been pissed for four days and I’m already a hero leading the way to a brave new world of sobriety!

Some things I noticed being sober in the pub:

Non alcoholic drinks are all sweet and sickly; I ended up on cups of tea at about 12.30.
It’s about a quarter of the price of buying alcohol.
I didn’t smoke, not planned but it seemed to fit with the ascetic aesthetic.
Towards the end of the night people shout and repeat themselves.

No massive revelations there then.

Today I reattached my bedroom door. It fell off the hinges several months ago. To reattach it I had to be both sober and not hung-over on a day off (a rare occurrence). I bought a chisel, two screwdrivers, a hammer and a toolbox to put them in.

I‘d lived without a bedroom door for a long time and it was starting to upset me. The final straw came when I had a dream about having sex with a prostitute in a public toilet. I concluded this was linked to my lack of door. My interpretation being, and feel free to draw your own conclusions, that my lack of door meant any sex I might have would have to be public (like the dream) as I live in a shared house. So by not fixing the door I’d been shying away from the possibility of a normal sex life (i.e. not with prostitutes). Buying a toolbox and being a virile woodworking chiselling man is my way of saying I’m back on the scene. That’s what I’m hoping, or I could be buying the tools that I later use to cut up hookers in public toilets. I guess it all hangs on the next dream.

N.B. I’d like to clarify I have never had sex with any kind of sex worker in reality.

I'm back. That's right I'm a born again blogger. I thought I might use this outlet to document my life without booze. I'm giving up booze for lent. For those of you not of the Christian persuasion, fuck off and die no only joking; though you really should think about getting some salvation for the sake of your immortal soul (who may or may not be a tosser).

Quick explanation of lent:

It starts with pancake day. We all eat pancakes, this uses up all the lemons. The bell's of St. Clement's ring a sombre monotone, oranges . . . oranges . . . This day is called shrove Tuesday and is not part of lent as you can still do the things you've given up.

The next day is Ash Wednesday, this is the day when people who have given up fags for lent empty their ash trays and actually stop smoking.

The rest of the days are known by their usual names, Monday, Tuesday, Sunday etc. until you reach good Friday. This is the day that the Jews and the Italians killed J.C.

The next Saturday is God's day off. In between being nailed to the cross by an Italian and waking up in a cave, God takes a holiday. He's a bit of a traveller and likes to visit new locations every year, but I'm told last year he went to the Maldives (very nice this time of year). This is a good time to commit crime as God usually takes his eye of the ball.

The next day is Easter Sunday; you get chocolate eggs if God loves you.

The whole thing lasts for 40 days. This is to represent the 40 days that J.C. spent in the desert on a diet. During this time he was visited by Satan who tried his darndest to tempt him with mint aeros. Jesus was able to resist proving his divinity.

So this is the reason I will not be drinking for the next 30 days. (I know it’s meant to be 40 but Satan visited me and offered me a skiing holiday in the last week, it was a no brainer, I’d be fool to turn it down, fully catered with insurance and ski hire thrown in. Done deal mate). Religion really does bring such wonderful purpose to my life.