Sir, the first thing you need is a shirt, and the absolute last thing that you need is a ride to the liquor store.

Okay, I’ve been drunk before. A lot. I’ve been really drunk before. A lot. I’ve even been really, really, really, super drunk. I've been so drunk that I have taken pictures of people that were this off center. I’ve been so drunk that I urinated on my parent’s bedroom door at two in the morning and didn’t realize I was doing it until I was suddenly brought back to my semi-senses by a swift right fist delivered to my jaw by my father. I’ve been so drunk that I fell asleep in a bus stop shelter in the middle of a German winter and woke up in an urgent care center the next morning, missing the entire ambulance ride to a blackout. I’ve been so drunk that I spent three hours throwing up into a Wal-Mart bag, nearly filling it before the seam gave way in the passenger seat of a friend’s car. I’ve been so drunk that I crawled into bed with my parents in the middle of the night at the age of twenty-three. I’ve been so drunk that I told my wife to leave me at a winery seventy miles from our home after screaming obscenities at a couple celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Why was I there? To celebrate my wife’s birthday and my brother and sister-in-laws baby shower. I’ve been so drunk that I urinated in the clothesbasket in the middle of the night, waking my wife who in turn woke me. But I have never been so drunk that I called 911 and attempted to get the police to take me to the liquor store.