You’ve been using liquor to disinfect your soft drinks because you can never be too safe.

You’ve been sober for 359 days. Not consecutively.

Your favorite alcoholic drink is called A Lot.

You don’t drink responsibly, responsibility makes you drink.

You volunteered for combat so you could get in on those excellent VFW drink deals.

You enjoy hearing about what you did drunk because you’re the main character in a story you’ve never heard.

You tried to turn a virtual PTA meeting into a cocktail party.

You wish there was a booze called Less because then you wouldn’t have to lie so much.

You’re not an alcoholic because alcoholics need a drink and you’ve got lots and lots of them.

Fifteen minutes after setting up camp and sitting down beside the fire you always think the exact same thing: “I didn’t bring enough whiskey.”

You told yourself to cut down on your drinking but you’re not about to take advice from some drunk who talks to himself.

Your phone’s auto-correct changed morning run to morning rum and you just went with it.

When you wake up in the morning after a night of drinking and you have your phone and wallet, you wonder what you did to deserve such a thing.

Your first cocktail tastes like you’re not going to work tomorrow.

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