Tequila not only has your number, you’re on top of its speed dial.
It takes only one person to convince you to go to party but at least four strong men to get you to leave.
Your last drink of today is your first drink of tomorrow.
When you look back on the beach that is your life and see only one set of footprints, you realize that that was when Bacchus was sleeping it off.
Apologizing for last night would be like Oswald offering to pay for Jackie’s dry cleaning.
Whenever someone tells you they don’t “appreciate” your drunken behavior you become very sad because you were really banking on that asshole’s appreciation.
You didn’t leave the party. The party left you.
You shout, “Turn up the goddamn jukebox!” in a department store.
Your idea of codependency is splitting the bar tab.
You open a friend’s refrigerator and are bewildered to find food where the beer should be.
You got laid off and had to live on nothing but food and water for a whole week.
A real woman could stop you from drinking. A real big woman.
You got held up by two guys last night. All the way home.
 —FKR, Troy Baxley, Dudley Moore