Start
at the End and Work Backwards
It all started on a hot summer’s evening. I was alone as per
usual, punishing my liver with reckless abandonment. Never before had I lost
such control that I would allow for myself to drink such excess. Blotto had
passed me by some hours ago and I was on my way to blackout station. But I had
a saving grace that came in the form of a bartender that knew me well enough to
have the balls to cut me off and call me a taxi that would be my chariot back
to my humble abode, which in all honest humble is a very...