I've been an alcoholic for over 15 years, since I was a teenager. My mind has always been my own worst enemy, and from a young age I found that booze was really the only way to shut that guy up. I won't lie, drinking that much for that long, I knew there was gonna to be some problems, but what else could I do? Problems now, or problems later...I'll take the deferred problems, please. Only, it finally caught up with me. Ever seen your skin turn yellow? That's some freaky shit. I've never been one to go to the doctor, but man, that got me to go in. And, yup. Cirrhosis he called it. Yeah, some kind of liver failure in my future. Guess the damn thing pretty much exploded from all the abuse over the years. The doctor asked me what I was thinking, letting it get this far, because - let's face it - at this point we're into self-hated and self-abuse territory. I explained my little mental problem to him, and he's like...do something else, do anything else, just don't put your liver through this any longer. Well, thanks doc, that helps! Anyway, I knew what I needed to do. But how was I supposed to just stop drinking? I needed to replace that empty space in my brain with something, anything else. I tried AA, it didn't work. But, man, I got lucky: at one of those meetings I met Skye. Some kind of punk rock chick, I dunno. Tattoos, piercings, all that. Green hair. She was nice. She understood me. We started hanging out, riding around town on these scooters she had, going to shows...and after a while it was almost like I just kind of forgot about drinking. I actually started really getting into her music scene. One of her friends helped me shave my head, and I just started feeling like these were my people, you know? Moshing, crowd surfing, it got rowdy as fuck...but it's nothing compared to the abuse I've already put my body through. Problem is, I kind of replaced one problem with another. Yeah, I've gotten into fighting. Believe me, thought, it's for a good cause: these punk ass fascist freaks have started showing up, heckling the bands, hassling my friends, ruining my good time. So yeah, you know what really gets me pumped for a good show and a good fight? Uppers, that's what. And this is my life now: shaving my head every morning, hanging out with Skye, and stomping the shit out these nazi punks (fuck off, please) with my steel toed Doc Martins. I guess you can say that kicking ass and busting heads is my new hobby, and you know what? I feel great! This is the best I've felt in years. The music is good, my skin stopped yellowing, the bruises heal eventually, and I haven't thought about drinking for a long, long time! ~Bob Watch my story on YouTube Reply to this post via email (This post was written from the perspective of the fictional character Bob, describing the events in the NOFX song of the same name.)