You’re cruising nicely along the river of life right now, in much the same way Burt Reynolds and his poker pals were white water suprema-swimming down the Cahulawassee River back inside the days of Nixon and live action Elvis sightings. So why dontcha just chill, dip your toes into the water that ain’t been touched by Scientologists and enjoy the ride? Because once the cosmic banjos come twanging, your ass ain’t got a chance of being saved. Even if it was wrapped in Kevlar by the Rock whilst he shouted out a Hail Mary in the voice of James Earl Jones.
Things are going well in just about every area of your life, for now. As in, right this very moment now. After which . . . you’re fucked in nine different languages with Dante supplying the cursive noose. Take pride in your accomplishments, and try like hell to look past the happy hour spirals in which you piss away every single one of ’em. Other people are eager to join you in celebration. Unfortunately, it’s at happy hour . . and yep, the spirals are included at some extra charge. So hey . . change your P.O. box number and it wouldn’t be the worst idea to change your address too. And while you’re at it, why not go all in with a name change and just cash out and move to Nicaragua. You can score a villa there for what you’re currently paying, out of pocket, for therapy.