I suppose I have never had bad enough luck to need to be stitched up or saved by a technician.
The only real healer I ever met was my therapist in rehab, and he told be I was almost as fucked up as he was.
Mark. He had 13 tattooed on his arm, for the amount of times he had been to rehab.
A pretty bold tattoo, considering he might go back.
But he hasn't. One of the wisest men I have ever met.
Talking to him was therapeutic. And he did do a really great job.
But there are people like me, where it doesn't matter how good the therapy is.
At the end of the day, I can see reality,
And it is wrong.
Fuck you.
I'm talking about physical health care, not alcohol addiction. WILD TURKEY! Hoist a Wild Turkey in honor of my friend Vinny who died in 2010 after cleaning up ground zero.
I may be a drunk, but I'm not a dysfunctional drunk like you.
NEXT!
NEXT!
Never really heard something so presumptuous.
Kind of impressive.
That's a quote... more like an idiom... a saying from a construction superintendent, a short stocky guy named Sid from Bay St. Louis who always had a cigar in the corner of his mouth, Vietnam vet badass CIA operative Cambodia Army guy dead now, the likes of which I'm proud to call my Mississippi friend and you... in your drunken stupor self-pity will never meet.
We're all drunks.
The secret is the code.
The code is: "It's all good".
lol
(post is archived)