This post became timely for a friend of mine so I thought I’d reblog my own post… How to beat the committee in your melon.
Retiring from a drunkard’s life at 22 was quite possibly the brightest thing I’ve ever done. I won’t bother getting into the whole “mommy sat me on the toilet seat sideways” sob story (she didn’t really, I just think it sounds funny and accurately portrays my belief in excuses), suffice it to say, at 22 years old I was told by a physician that I had the liver of a 60-year-old drunk and that if I didn’t stop, I’d die – very early. He gave me eight years, max. And I had that discussion when I was 21 – I drank heavily for another full year.
So here I am, healthy as an ox. Now, in the group that I run in, it’s a common saying that if you sober up a horse thief, you’re still left with a horse thief. Believing that, I changed everything in my life…
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