I don’t anymore drink,

It made me obnoxious & I did also stink,

Now if we go out I am the designated driver,

But I do recall many memories being a survivor…

We’d hop into one of our cars,

Heading usually to the Wildwood(NJ) bars,

There was a 50’s style place, a disco-ish place,

And then there was the Penalty Box,

This with the rock was the one that really rocked…

Eight Southern comfort shots in a neat row,

With a Miller chaser to follow each,

Then to the bathroom to of them blow,

Back to the bar for another round,

Or onto the disco to dance we’d be bound…

We’d close the bar, whichever one we ended in,

Then in the summer up the beach for a quick dip,

Then back home stopping numerous times to puke,

No wonder my gall bladder did eventually break,

Back then I was a really crazy kook…