When you're 22

There comes a time in every man’s/douche’s life when he realizes he’s no longer a young man/douche. For me, this occurred as a senior in college when I was awake all night with terrible heartburn after a “Margarita Monday” at Coyote Ugly. To really understand the gravity of that event you must realize that early that year I's was pounding bottles of spiced liqueurs, fighting off killer bee hordes and even running half-marathons without so much as a runny nose. But after that terrible night things started happening - shit things. My back hasn't stopped aching for 2 years; I have a six heart murmurs; I cannot physical stay up past 9:15 pm. In a word, every day holds new and exciting ways to fuck over poor, innocent Andy.


Now those of you who know me know I’m not a complainer. I stick to things and keep a positive attitude not just for myself, but for those around me. But when you’ve been on this sin scorched planet as long as I have, you start to see things a bit differently. In a nutshell, I’m stuck in the horse latitudes - Fuck! – and am fresh out of limes. Starvation and scurvies are immanent; and I’m scared to go to sleep at night because in the morning it’s getting harder to remember where I put my glasses.


It will happen to you...