From the Juice-box, Tom Waits – Bad Liver And A Broken Heart (in Lowell):
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Part of my job as FASe of the Drinking Generation is to occasionally don a professor’s robes.
The lecture today is on Dipsomania (for which i researched Wkiki extensively).
A long time ago, ‘dipsomania‘ was used to mean normal alcoholism. It’s not used much anymore because people prefer words that are easier to type. Especially while drinking.
Still, ‘dipsomania‘ now can refer to “describe a particular condition of periodic, compulsive bouts of alcohol intake.“
i think you see where i’m going’ with this. What intellectuals call dipsomania, you and i call binge drinking. Which makes me a dipsomaniac.
The questions now before the Bar are: What (if any) are the differences between Binge Drinking and Chronic Alcoholism? Can Binge Drinkers become Moderate Drinkers?
Stay tuned while we explore these and other, less obtuse and more fun, issues.
Tom Waits – Bad Liver and a Broken Heart
Well, I got a bad liver and a broken heart
Yeah, I drunk me a river since you tore me apart
And I don’t have a drinking problem, except when I can’t get a drink
And I wish you’d a known her, we were quite a pair
She was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer
So welcome to the continuing saga
She was my better half and I was just a dog
And so here I am slumped, I’ve been chipped
I’ve been chumped on my stool
So buy this fool some spirits and libations
It’s these railroad station bars
And all these conductors and the porters
And I’m all out of quarters
And this epitaph is the aftermath
Yeah, I choose my path, hey, come on, Kath
He’s a lawyer, he ain’t the one for ya
No, the moon ain’t romantic, it’s intimidating as hell
And some guy’s trying to sell me a watch
And so I’ll meet you at the
Bottom of a bottle of bargain Scotch
I got me a bottle and a dream
It’s so maudlin it seems
You can name your poison
Go on ahead and make some noise
I ain’t sentimental, this ain’t a purchase
It’s a rental and it’s purgatory
And hey, what’s your story, well, I don’t even care
‘Cause I got my own double-cross to bear
And I’ll see your Red Label, and I’ll raise you one more
And you can pour me a cab, I just can’t drink no more
‘Cause it don’t douse the flames that are started by dames
It ain’t like asbestos, it don’t do nothing but rest us assured
And substantiate the rumors that you’ve heard