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Are All These Gin and Tonics Giving Me Boils on My Butt?
Thoughts on the culture of alcohol
I wish I were the type of person who could say, “I’ve never been much of a drinker.” Except that isn’t true at all. I’ve always been painfully aware that I must keep a dutiful eye on the frequency and habit of which I drink.
Growing up with alcoholism in the family either teaches a person that booze is a great way to quell the complicated emotions of life or it is a strident reminder of “fuck that, I’m never going to mess up my life like that.”
For me, I toggle between the two.
I’m painfully aware that if left unchecked, I can fall effortlessly into the drunken stupor of alcoholism.
I find it incredibly difficult and entirely pointless, to be honest, to only have one drink. If I’m putting booze in my body, imma make it count.
I have never once used one of those fancy reusable wine corks because I’ve never had the need to re-cork a bottle of wine once it’s been opened.
*Cue me tipping the bottle greedily to my lips to suck down the last dredges of that sweet, sweet nectar.*
Between August 2024 and January 2025, I only participated in drinking alcohol for one week in mid-October.
