Alcohol is by no means the only beverage that can make you regret your life decisions.
My particular beverage of shame is coffee. Even though I have a low caffeine tolerance I will still keep drinking it. I'm like that kid at the party that knows they shouldn't have more than a couple but will still go do shots with Captain Tank Top just to show that I can because somehow this will be different.
It will never, ever be different. Before long I will have cornered some poor unsuspecting soul that doesn't have the courage to leave the conversation and, through mostly coherent lines of reasoning, explained to them in no uncertain terms that Bob Dylan, Rabbie Burns, Shakespeare and Kendrick Lamar are all the same person (think about it).
What happens next is one of the reasons I don't smoke. I get the munchies. Strike that. I will eat anything and everything in sight.
One of the many problems of this arrangement is that once I've done eating everything in sight and explaining to some poor passerby how science fiction and fantasy are meant to serve as an gargantuan metaphor rather than really cool and attractive worlds (don't get me started) I crash like a touring band on a futon.
Why am I telling you this? Think of what you have read as a cautionary tale. If you see a tall white guy with a coffee mug explaining the intricate details of why werewolfery (real word) is a curse and not a superpower (I'm lookin' at you Twilight... and Underworld... and oh forget it) then don't think. Leave the smoked gouda and crackers where you stand. Save yourselves.
Thank you and, as always folks,
I ventured off on a drive to visit my girlfriend in San Luis Obispo for a few days, and that inevitably meant I had to spend a good portion of my drive on Highway 5. For any California resident, to put it politely, you know that is a less than glamorous experience.