I celebrated my birthday on January twenty-first and I’m just now recovering. I tried my hand at keeping up with twenty-one year olds. I lost. It’s not easy to admit, but yes, a pair of twenty-one year olds, women I might add, drank me under the table.
It must be something in the DNA of the modern drinker that helps them sustain themselves. I felt like crap afterwards. I broke all my rules with regard to mixing as did the young women, but I suffered and they didn’t. I had a good time. It was a fun birthday. Beauty is the beast that can kill your liver. 
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