DIS-EASE

DIS-EASE

This thing has mastered me, drunken reeling down the street.

Belligerent at my children’s luncheon, stumbling uncertain steps and misguided feet.

Insanity had me on the brink of utter disaster-the martinis making me weak

Disease is progressing faster and faster.

Family suggested that I take a seat.

Head’s spinning like a bottled genie released wishing I could still my troubled spirit and think.

I feel constitutionally incapable; to my wife I brought shame and scandal due to a wild night ending with a vague recollection of a holding cell.

My co-defendant Jack Daniels. My self-respect...Oh well.

Constantly embedded in impossible situations; in my head there’s a stir of Echoes-Kevin Bacon.

Surender to win, I don’t completely understand what you’re really saying.

Last time I did something similar I was found bloody and beaten by my dog in the neighbor’s basement.

I’ve just resigned to being alone in my misery, resentment the number one offender but what about the people with a penchant for offending me at the office waiting for the dentist?

You’ve gotta be kidding.

I don’t want to talk about how my best thinking invariably leading me back to the bar for more adventures in controlled drinking.

Recently drunk while babysitting, which proved to be a nice Segway into my career sinking.

Escorted from the outlet mall drunk as hell sweating profusely and reeking of alcohol.

So broke I couldn’t pay attention, so incompetent I couldn’t make a phone call to my lawyer; Jim Rosenthal, my date left me at dinner,

while I made my ninth appearance in the bathroom stall for seven to eight minutes.

Walking around dejected, curse you Dr. Bob and Bill Wilson doctrines playing in my head like a broken record.

Maybe I need to take a different perspective, hell, nobody’s forcing me, and since they’re really only suggestions., I may be able to once and for all renew my perception.

Ready to kick the bottle like Taebo. Wait, attend treatment? I don’t think so.

I’d rather stay at home inebriated watching re-runs of Charmed or Deuce Bigalow. I got it!

I’ll move to Europe and become a full-time Gigolo.

Liquor Store on high alert as I peruse the selections, camcorder fully functional, documenting the first stages of my third transgression.

Judge finalized the court order in the second session announced my fate and slammed the gavel.

Psychiatrist prescribed Paxil. I made a decision alright; to fly away like the man of steel-Henry Cavil.

My disease is vying for Last Blood-Rambo. Alcoholism is in the genes... cunning, baffling, powerful!!!