I used to drink tequilla...

I remember the time that I got dumped and thought that a good way to get over it would be to drink whisky in half-pint glasses. I was drinking a hell of a lot most of the time back then. Wine, whisky and vodka mainly. Never was much of a beer man. Incidentally, I used to drink tequilla at that time too, but a bottle of Jose Cuervo's finest was something for special occasions. Anyway, I think I got through about three or four of 'em before I stumbled to my bed, and slipped uneasily into sleep.

I woke up to find the guy I shared a house with at the time scooping vomit out of the back of my throat and anxiously saying "please don't die on me". Apparently I almost choked to death on my own vomit. It's not that uncommon for people to die from it. I'm pretty lucky that I have someone living with me at the time who cared enough to check in on me. What I've never worked out is why he was sober enough to save me. He wasn't necking quite so much whisky as I was that night, but I recall him being pretty well plastered before I hit the sack.

I don't drink as much as I used to... that entire year is just one long string of drunken escapades. I don't think I could have spent a total of two months sober in the whole of '97. I was every cliche you've ever heard about alcohol-abuse that year. I used to wake up and drink vodka with OJ for breakfast.

Jam it back in, in the dark.