A Life in Pictures
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Rose and I split when I got tired of her making a cuckold out of me, and that meant I could no longer score free drugs. I took a series of odd-jobs (dishwasher, mechanic, boxer, gypsy, animal handler for Ringling Bros., etc), but none of them stuck. Broke and saddened by the loss of Rose, I went back to my roots: good old Budweiser.
Here I am on a particularly nasty bender with my brother Dennis and my other cousin Lindsay down the shore. Later that night, Lindsay beat up a cop because she thought he stole her lipstick and Dennis disappeared for eight weeks. When he came back, he spoke Russian. It was a really strange time.
Many would say that my parents were irresponsible for letting us drink at such a young age, but I disagree. They were just cooler than your parents, you jealous bitch.