The Trouble With Lance And Beer Cans (And Tribbles)

The major problem with being an alcoholic (semi-functioning one with a brain) is that you are smart enough to talk yourself out of necessary tasks that need to be tasked and stupid enough to not realize you are deluding yourself into thinking that nothing else matters, ‘cept maintenance drinking.

This is a delicate tight-wire you have precariously put yourself upon for no real good reason.

Yet

You Sailor on.

Precariously perched

Trying to maintain some semblance of ‘balance.’

It is a delicate dance.

And you are smart enough to know how the story must end.

Yet you hurdle on into the dark void of your madness.

Casting all caution to the wind.

Rinse and Repeat Every Day.

Same Bat Time.

Same Bat Channel.

But somehow Life Staggers On

Hold my beer and watch this:

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