It's only 2:45pm, and I've already consumed enough alcohol leave an adult rhinoceros incapacitated in the middle of the blistering sun of the Savannah. I thought about stopping today, but I can't help but keep running from that demon in the bottle. Before I completely settled in my drunken stupor for the day, I decided to make myself breakfast at least. Before I knew it, I'd completely blacked out and that fattening smell of overcooked Spam had seeped into every crevice within the home. Once I awoke and came to, I vomited some mixture of Gatorade and Peanut M&M's all over the kitchen floor, and then just left it there to slowly dissolve through the industrial grade floor tiling in my home. Anyways, I know I'm starting to ramble.
Shortnsweet, I thought about this thread earlier today while I was driving 75mph in the parking lot of a Daycare Center with children at play, all while listening to the Rage Against the Machine cover of "Fuck the Police" at the maximum volume my car's sound system could handle. I checked into it a little last night when using my fingers didn't feel like typing with chicken fries, but basically every rehabilitation program or AA meetup has a two drink minimum.