Did you drink beer in high school? I did.
When you drank beer in high school, did you throw up?
I did.
There was the time I hung my head out the window and threw up all over my buddy's car.
He was unpleased with me.
I threw up at my high school graduation party (I graduated on my 18th birthday). My friend's father came out and gave me a shot of Angostura Bitters. Lesson learned.
I threw up all over myself on the Paris Metro once. (That might have been the last time I threw up from drink.)
I hated throwing up. I monopolized the bathroom at one party. Hugging the porcelain bus.
I learned pretty quickly how NOT to throw up. (Albeit, with a few "accidents," like Paris.)
If you threw up more than a few times, you don't have a drinking problem. You have a paucity of brains problem. You have a "I drink to excess because I don't want people to know I'm gay!" kind of problem.
I can always tell when someone was a binge drinker in college. All you need to do is mention the word tequila, if they go green around the gills, you know that it was because of tequila nights in college. Those people learned to stay away from that which made them throw up.
But not Brett. He just kept drinking and drinking and Ralphing and boufing and drinking some more. And he couldn't understand why he couldn't get laid. And he couldn't understand why it didn't bother him more. His celibacy was more akin to illiteracy. His acts of sexual violence were more designed to give cover in front of his friends so they wouldn't know he's a pooftah.
That's why he came out so mad and so tuff. And why his wife was over there saying "Yeah, RIGHT!" to herself. She knows...
Not saying that he shouldn't be on SCOTUS because he's gay. Saying that he should not be on SCOTUS because he is lying to the world and he is over compensating for what he still feels is his failure.
PLAU
UPD
(AKA, Sigmund Fraud)
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