While this text message from my heavily alcohol dependant buddy has some hilarity to it, you have to wonder how much of this really will play out on the night we meet up. Alcoholic doesn’t even begin to cover this dude – he lives to drink and drinks to die. Think Leaving Las Vegas, but without the hot hooker.

“FUCK IT TOM, I WANT TO DRINK UNTIL IT HURTS. WHEN MY EYEBALLS ROLL BACK INTO MY SKULL AND I SLUMP OVER FROM ALCOHOL POISONING, LIFT ME THE FUCK BACK UP, PUNCH ME IN THE STOMACH AND YELL “KEEP DRINKING YOU SNIVELING LITTLE SHIT!” I WON’T BE SATISFIED WITH MY EFFORTS UNTIL I SEE A POOL OF VOMIT BENEATH ME THAT RESEMBLES THE ALL YOU CAN EAT PASTA BAR AT PIZZA HUT. MY SEXIST AND RUDE REMARKS TO INNOCENT PEOPLE CAN BE YOUR BAROMETER TO MY LEVEL OF DRUNKENNESS AS THE NIGHT GOES ON. AND IF I BLACK OUT, TILT MY HEAD, AND FUNNEL ICE COLD FROSTY BEER DOWN MY OPEN FUCKING PIE HOLE UNTIL I’M JUST A BLOATED CADAVER SPREAD OUT ON THE FLOOR. THEN I WANT YOU TO POSE BESIDE MY LIFELESS ALCOHOL SOAKED RAG OF A BODY AND HAVE A POLAROID PICTURE TAKEN OF US AS A SOUVENIR OF THE TIME YOU WENT OUT DRINKING WITH YOUR GOOD BUDDY. SEE YOU SOON!”