I Drink for a Reason by Kelly Crigger
Most of us drink, but do we all know why? The most often noted reasons for imbibing in alcohol are to feel good, forget painful moments, or take the edge off a long day of “”What the fuck are you doing ass hat?” But we’re all individuals. We all have our reasons for hitting the bottle, taking a nip, and living life by the drop. Time to confront those demons once and for all.
Now, real quick, I would be lying if I said I came up with this snappy title myself. Comedian David Cross recently penned a book called, “I Drink for a Reason,” so he has to get the credit for coming up with the title or those blood sucking fuckstick lawyers will come after us. Tim Kennedy and Team Rhino are formidable, but they can’t hold a candle to high-powered, rainmaking corporate barristers, so there. Take your fucking royalties and get out, Cross. Now let’s get to it.
I drink because there are things in this life that I will never have no matter how many times I steal them.
I drink because “if you can dream it, you can achieve it” is bullshit unless you have a twenty-inch schlong, an artistic eye for camera angles, and a group of very gullible hotties.
I drink to overcome the guilt of not deploying as many times as all my buddies.
I drink because I lost one of them and had to find out through The Army Times.
I drink because I live in a country where Green Bay, Wisconsin has two Superbowl rings and Los Angeles doesn’t even have a team.
I drink because I still don’t understand what the fuck extra virgin olive oil is and why it turns me on.
I drink because I have a daughter who is not a horse-faced troll with protruding teeth that could eat apples through a picket fence. Life would be easier if she was.
I drink because those who have made the ultimate sacrifice would want me to.
I drink because there are, and always will be, ignorant Americans who simply cannot fathom why those of us in uniform do what we do.
I drink because there are still poor, unfortunate souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
I drink because I am confused and I am confused when I drink. Such is the sweet circle of cereal malt beverage.
I drink because I am a fool who thinks logic dwells in the chambers of the human heart.
I drink because I have a horrible memory. Wait…what was I talking about?
I drink not to silence the voices in my head, but to understand them better. They like to put the lotion on its back.
I drink because society demands that I not festoon my bedchambers with the entrails of my enemies.
I drink because Nancy Pelosi breathes.
I drink to make 3’s look like 7’s (whiskey makes them 8’s-shameless plug!).
I drink when Tommy Batboy’s Ritalin wears off, Garrett rejects my t-shirt designs, RU Nick drags me into an all night beer pong bender, and Tim Kennedy is late for a meeting because he’s primping again. Oh Snap!!