December 31, 2009
Anderson, CA
Billy Twitchell, 46, of Anderson, CA. has been sober two years and plans to celebrate the start of 2010 the same way.
"My last drink was at my daughter's wedding reception. I was having my usual Jack & Coke & crank. Plus my second ex-wife was paying for the open bar and I wanted to make sure I got my money's worth. When my son-in-law reached up my daughter's dress to get the garter I broke his nose. Then I puked in the punch bowl. Guess I bit a cop or something too."
Since then Twitchell has been in a rehab program and hasn't touched alcohol, drugs, or carbs.
"I mostly spend my free time smoking cigarettes and thinking about drinking," he admits.
"Billy's not as fun as he used to be," says Twitchell's hard-partying bud Brock Throck from the couch, "He don't even stay up until midnight on New Years!"
"Yeah," agreed Twitchell, "I watch the east coast feed from Times Square with that Ryan Seaquest..."
"Faggot!," added Brock.
"Then I'm in bed by 9:01," continued Twitchell. "Sometimes I watch the rerun of the ball dropping the next day, but not always. Face it, I'm in my forties, I've got diabetes, I'm going bald, I've got no job, no car, no wife, and I can't party anymore..."
"You just gotta find a chick that's into that," shouted a happily drunken Brock, "But don't call her a chick because bitches hate it when you call 'em chicks." He then burped and excused himself to pee off the porch.
"That used to be me," sighed Twitchell wistfully, "But tonight I'll probably just
use the toilet like a normal person."
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