Oh, Lord – give me the strength to change that which I cannot accept. Like closing the beach house while my hottest housemates screw their brains out upstairs.

Dan was in St. Bart’s on a junket, bought by a big pharma behemoth and paid for by you and me. I couldn’t go because I found it morally objectionable, I had to close the beach house, and I wasn’t invited.

So while Dan sunned at some gorgeous resort, I washed out bottles of chutneys from the refrigerator and felt sorry for myself.

Then the "Porn’s Greatest Hits" playlist started blasting on the audio system. Kyle and Robbie spent the weekend with me, in a manner of speaking. Until they showed up groping each other I had no idea that they’d changed the middle word in BFFs. It was excruciating. And hot, in a tragic, out-in-the-cold kind of way. They were trying out new material while I emptied out the refrigerator.

Me (in the kitchen, thinking): "Nam pla sauce – out."

Robbie (in an upstairs bedroom, shouting): "Yeah, man, there!"

Me (heading for the liquor cabinet, thinking): "It’s 5 o’clock in Greenland."

Kyle (from his core): "Oh God give it to me baby unh unh unh unh yeah yeah unh unh unh...."

Life Lesson #26: swigging straight from the bottle never affirms one’s self-image. I held a magnum of Jack Daniels high and started gulping.

Robbie: "Aaaaaaahhhhhhhnnnnnnnnn! Aaahhnnn! Ahn!"

Kyle: "Here it comes! Unnnhhhhhhhh! Yeah!"

This was more than a man should be asked to hear unless also he’s in the cast. I stomped out of the house and around the deck, but as I passed under the guest bathroom windows I heard running water, slapping noises and giggles. "So soon?" Kyle said with surprise. "Unh! Hey, you’re getting shampoo all over my... Oh? Yeah, sure, why not? Unh!" Was there no sanctuary?

A straggly patch of mint inspired me to make myself a vast mint julep to get me through this ordeal. The traditional mint julep consists of a small handful of mint leaves and a little sugar or syrup, which somebody (see below) bruises with crushed ice and a fork to release the mint oil before adding bourbon. This is just plain dumb – another Southern discomfort masquerading as antebellum swank. Traditional mint juleps are easy to make if you have slaves. Bruising mint leaves with a fork to make six separate drinks? Hello, carpal tunnel syndrome. And it’s a dental comedy, since everybody ends up with bits of green leaves stuck to their teeth.

My version is cleaner, easier and tastes just as good; you get the mint flavor without the interdental leaves or the arm brace. I drank them to the rank, arousing sounds of puppy love – puppies in heat. They came down for dinner at some point, but by then I was shut tight in my bedroom with headphones on, the iPod bringing Jay Brannan’s beautiful voice directly into my brain. "F*** this, this can’t be my life...."

The Yankee Mint Julep

Put fresh, washed mint leaves into a shaker with ice. Add a few drops of simple syrup, then dump in as much bourbon or Jack Daniels as possible. If anybody complains that Jack is sour mash, not bourbon, tell him to shove his snob traditions where the sun don’t shine, then shake, strain into a cocktail glass, and serve. Or throw it in his face.

I once found myself at a meeting of urine drinkers. No, under no circumstances – including Chinese water torture and being strapped to a chair and forced to listen to Ke$ha – would I ever in a trillion years drink my own piss. But I was accompanying someone who was HIV-positive, and I swore there would be no outbursts, groans, or wretching noises. We both were willing to try anything to keep him healthy. The group called itself "Water of Life." They believed, like the late Prime Minister of India Morarji Desai (he lived to be 100; something must have worked), that a glass of pee was like a good Chablis, a healthy tea, a drink that’s free, a tonic for thee... you get the drift.

Before you stop reading, I assure you that this column’s featured cocktail is not urine based, nor does it contain half a teaspoon of urine-infused syrup, nor does urine float on top like a yellow Tequila Sunrise. This column is actually about water, which those of us who drink alcohol regularly should consume in large quantities. Hydration! Hangovers are less severe if you drink water while tying one on. Water flushes out those nasty toxins they’re always mentioning – those vaguely criminal substances we’re said to be full of in our natural state and must rid our systems of daily. (Silly me. I thought urine contained the toxins, and getting rid of them involved peeing them into the toilet and not a tumbler. Boy, am I dumb!)

I’ve been drinking a lot lately: friends have been taking us out to celebrate our marriage; I spent some boozy days drowning my sorrows at closing the beach house; it’s getting colder and darker by the day, which led to sneaky passes by the liquor cabinet on my way anywhere in the apartment. So, I decided to take a week off and drink water. No flavored stuff. Just plain water.

I regret to say that I felt better immediately. No, I’m not staying "on the wagon," an expression that comes from horse-drawn water wagons at the turn of the 20th century. I felt good but bored. Oh, sweet Sauterne, sobriety is dreary! Your mind improves – never a good idea. Reality comes into sharper focus – big mistake in these wretched times. You gain clarity, both mental and spiritual. Dullsville. But for this brief period it was worth the painful monotony of better health. I kept imagining those nasty toxins exiting my body through my favorite organ, my overworked kidneys bathing in a clear wash of something other than vodka – something cleansing and healthy and tedious as hell.

The Best Plain Water: Ignore the know-it-alls who insist that tap water is as good as bottled water. It isn’t. It may start out dandy in the hills upstate or the underground springs that serve your community, but after it passes through all those corroded pipes and lands in your glass, it’s acquired a distinct tang. So drink Deer Park or Evian. (Did you know that Dasani comes from municipal water supplies?) My vote goes to Poland Springs.

The Best Sparkling Water: My vote once again goes to Poland Springs, but only the plain, unflavored kind. Pellegrino and Perrier are too flat; Canada Dry is manufactured. Poland Springs is naturally and generously carbonated.

And if you’re bored by a refreshing glass of chilled Poland Springs Sparkling? You can always pee into it, add some ice and call it an all-natural cocktail.