My journey to the magical land of sobriety had been going smoothly for the past few weeks, but that was about to change.

The cravings had subsided. The headache had subsided. The frequent urination had subsided. Even the hankering for pancakes had subsided, kind of. Man I love those things. Who doesn’t like pancakes? Even aliens like pancakes. My friend Alex sent me a link to this story about aliens who landed on some guy’s farm and asked the owner for some water. When he gave them water, they gave him four pancakes in exchange. Some people have all the luck!

But not Frosty.

Lady Luck had indeed abandoned me. In her stead, the harsh and cruel mistress known as Sister Sobriety had taken the helm. Where Lady Luck had granted me great gains, Sister Sobriety left me at a loss. Where Lady Luck had blessed me with bliss, Sister Sobriety slapped me with sorrow. The only thing Sister Sobriety had not taken was my penchant for alliteration. It was enough to make a man angry, enough to send him off the deep end.

I needed to take my mind off of everything, and what better way to do it than that grand old ‘merican pastime of sitting on my lazy ass and watching TV?

After skimming the channels and finding absolutely nothing worth watching, I browsed my DVD collection. And by my DVD collection, I mean the DVDs that Slim’s fat nerdy ass had left at various points in time. Seinfeld? Dawn of the Dead? Star Trek? What the fuck, none of this was any good either! Then, a cartoonish cover caught my eye: Avatar: The Last Airbender. The complete series, at that! I skimmed the back cover. A little boy who could control elements and use them to kick ass? Some dude with a bad-ass scar on his eye? A little blind girl with attitude? Fuckin’ A! I never watched any anime before, but this looked awesome! (Note from AJ: Frosty, Avatar isn’t anime…) I nearly tripped as I ran for my DVD player.

Days passed as I did nothing but sit on my couch and watch the adventures of Aang and his gang. His Gaang (thank you Slim for that god-awful pun!). I was hooked! By the end of the series, I wanted nothing more than be an airbender, blowing my enemies away like a tornado and flying amongst the birds in the skies! I imagined myself using my glider to coast around the Philly skyline, weaving between buildings, sometimes startling some poor window washer or office workers having a meeting.


After sitting around watching TV for a week straight, I needed to get outside and stretch my legs. A little fresh air never hurt no one!

Or so I thought.

It began with a walk through the park. What was meant to be a relaxing stroll turned into the beginning of a nightmarish hell, not just for me but for the others around me. As I walked down the path, I was repeatedly passed by joggers. The words “On your left!” were starting to push their way through my skull and into my brain. Were these cocky assholes mocking me, as if to say “You’re going too slow, so I’m going to pass you”? I don’t know. I do know that hearing the same thing over and over again was starting to piss me off.

Then I did it.

As another condescending voice huffed behind me “On your left!”, I spun around and slammed my fist into the son of a bitch, which turned out to be a petite college-aged girl. As she reeled from the blow, I cocked my fist back again. “ON YOUR LEFT YOU COCKY BITCH!”, I screamed before following up with another punch, this one on her left cheek. She went down like a small sack of bricks. At this point people were staring. What was their problem? I wasn’t sure exactly, but I had a potential solution for these looky-loos. “Who else wants some?!” I screamed as I raised my fist. Out came the cellphones. Some people began recording, obviously hoping to have the next great YouTube hit. Others were phoning the police, no doubt pinning the blame on me. Because it’s never the college girl’s fault. It didn’t matter, I had gotten my point across. I made a dash for the tree line as all the looky-loos stared on, jaws agape. Damnit, this running thing would be so much easier after a few beers! As I stepped into the canopy of the woods, I glanced back. The looky-loos had now taken to gathering around the college girl, most likely conspiring about how they were going to spin this so that ol’ Frosty was the asshole. Have to keep the stories consistent for the police, you know. As I watched the conniving looky-loos plotting and planning, the sound of sirens filled the air. No sense in sticking around for the tasers, Sober Frosty would be no match for them. I took off through the woods, eventually coming out near what looked like a temple. Standing around this temple were a bunch of Asian men with bald heads.

And that’s when I made my biggest mistake of all.

Continue reading with the FIFTH chapter of Frosty’s Sober Saga!

Did you miss chapter three? Shame on you! It’s okay though, you can read it here!

Avatar photo

By Frosty Mugg

Frosty is a reckless idiot, a dirty lech, and a drunk bastard. When he’s not sitting on a bar stool pounding down one beer after another, he’s usually making poor decisions during moments of drunken impulsiveness. Due to an incident involving a college girl, Buddhist monks, and a trip across Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, Frosty is legally required to be intoxicated at all times. He resides in the city of Philadelphia, and is very much single, ladies.