Jones says ...

Fuck, I wish.

 

Some things cannot be explained by mortal men.

 

Gallbladder doesn't stop me drinking. Like someone else already said, now I have more room for my liver to grow.

I'll try to make it to Vegas. I'm gonna be swamped around then, but it's on the burner.

(A post without cusswords! Woo-hoo!)

 

You're just not trying. Slacker.

 

I can echo Jones on this one. My gallbladder's out, and my doc just told me no alcohol for a month. I've been fine ever since.

 

Buckdog, you're funny like polio.

 

Well played, buckdub. Fuck, I wish I had time to drink these days.

 

Who needs time to drink? Hell, Joe doesn't. From all I've heard, Jones doesn't either.

Joe, I've got a pint of Dead Guy in my fridge that I will raise in your honor when I get home in an hour.

 

I KNEW I could teach your pup ass sumpin'. Dead Guy rules.

 

No alcohol for a month? My doctor never told me that when i had my gall bladder removed. And ever since it's been gone (13 years now), the hangovers haven't been nearly as bad.

 

Having read this yesterday (I think...time moves in weird fashion for me recently) I'm glad joe posted it. I giggled several times, and I've never met joe.

Nor have I ever been drinking at Nye's.

But since I JUST NOW got that issue of Esquire (along with this month's, on the same day), reading Jones' story after reading joe's made it somehow more fun.

 

Maybe he just told me that because he also gave me about 100 Vicodin when I was discharged. And I've never had a hangover, so I have no basis for comparison.