My roommate has vaguely mentioned that he thinks I may have a wee bit of a drinking problem…
“I just don’t see the need to constantly drink every night….”
Side note: I’ve had six beers while writing this post.
…He might be right.
I like to drink. Who doesn’t? (Uber self-righteous, right-winged religious folk that’s who…those fascist bastards…go drink a god damn beer, Jesus turned water into wine for Christ’s sakes!)
It may have to do with the environment I was raised in, and not in a bad way at all.
I’m catholic, my family is catholic…that is definition of “we like our Jesus with a huge ass splash of Kahlua.”
I don’t find anything wrong with relaxing with a tall refreshing Budweiser after a long day of work. Especially when you work with kids.
It’s your American right to drink whenever the fuck you want. Remember prohibition? Exactly.
And if that means slamming back several strongly liquored mixed drinks at a fancy restaurant, then so be it. And the drinks were free that’s why I ordered so god damn many… I said to the three guys (one being my roommate) calling me an alcoholic.
Free. COME ON! When shit is free…you get that shit in triple. (The Jew inside of me was so proud that night.)
But in all honesty, I’ve never thought I had an issue with drinking…actually I’m quite good at it. So what if I buy cases in bulk? That’s just sensible shopping…old lady glaring at me in the grocery line.
And hey you don’t me…maybe I’m throwing a huge ass party.
Ah yes, denial is a beautiful existence.