Life in the Asylum (I mean Rehab.)



I am BACK; thank the deities I am back. I thought I would NEVER get out of that place… THEY refer to it as PARADISE; I referred to it as the looney bin for recovering drunks. Honestly, never have I ever seen so many drunks gathered together in one place, it was like a drunk’s reunion.

I must admit, I walked in tall and determined, but that was because I had already had a couple of drinks ahead of time to prepare myself for the long awaited DRY SPELL. I got there and the administrator IMMEDIATELY yelled at me for drinking, YIKES!!!!! I am NOT used to people yelling at ME, I am the one who usually does the yelling.

After quivering like a baby, my guide, a FOXY lookin’ chick showed me to my room. It was stark; it had two single beds, two dressers, a common desk and a window. Ahhhh the window, thank God for the window. It had a beautiful view of the pond and water fountain… Spewing Vodka I was hoping, NO such LUCK!!!

I met my room-mate, a nice woman with a beard of a Circus lady, and the breath that could kill all the zombies off in case of a zombie attack. WOW!!! We shared stories and then it was time for dinner.
 Ahhhh the food, the only one GOOD thing I can say for the place. I had a sumptious dinner of steak, salad, bread, roasted asparagus and coffee. For dessert, they had the best bread pudding I have ever eaten.

After dinner, they ran a general AA meeting where everyone got up and told their stories. I had them in tears. I know, I am such an attention hog, shoot me. We concluded the evening with the Serenity Prayer and then we all went back to our Cells rooms. Lights out by 10:00 PM, day one over and the journey begins…I will end here and pick it up later.

Until Later…

Giggle Time-You Might be a Drunk When…


You fall down a well and send Lassie to the liquor store.

Bartenders call you when you’ve been absent for more than two days.

Lawn sprinklers are sometimes your alarm clock.

You wake up in a strange city not knowing how you got there, and the three other guys don’t know either.

You need help getting the breathalyzer in the right hole.

You lost a fistfight with yourself.

It takes two shots of schnapps to wash the taste of Breathalyzer out of your mouth.

You like to stop for a drink on the way to the fridge to get a beer.

You went on vacation for two weeks and the owner of your regular bar had his boat repossessed.

You’ve asked a bartender to “freshen up” your shot glass.

Bars call in their off-duty bartenders when you walk in the door.

You’ve asked a waiter: “What sort of wine goes with vodka?”

When buying floor tile, you press your face against it to see how comfortable it would be to sleep on.

You get into a loud, enraged argument, then realize you’re alone.

—Hugh Janblack, Dave Schalmo, Barcalounge, Drunken JackFlask, Geofflilley and FKR.