The Liver at 21, 30 & 40

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I’ll just go ahead and preface this post with this fact: It’s been inspired by an evening of drinking. With coworkers, no less, so I feel professional right now.

Eight months into my 40th year on this lovely but fucked-up orb, I have distinguished significant differences between drinking at 21, 30 and 40 years of age. I’ve taken some time to disseminate these differences in analogous form. I hope you find the analogies entertaining. If not, please giggle with the knowledge that you can’t have “analogy” without “anal.”

21 Years Of Age

Consumption: Kegs & kegs & kegs & kegs and/or equitable to the gross domestic product of Paraguay.

Recovery: Something that old people do after a hip injury.

Rated Liver Performance: Capable of powering the USS Enterprise at speeds of Warp Factor 9.

30 Years Of Age

Consumption: Equitable to 21, with the addition of fine silver tequilas. And gold tequilas. And Reposádo tequilas. And añejo tequilas. And quality Bourbons. And shittier Bourbons. And Irish whiskies. And single-malt Scotches. And…you get the idea.

Recovery: Fuck. Stop talking so loud.

Rated Liver Performance: Rocky Balboa in the first movie; on the ropes multiple times, but keep springing back. However, the Liver Union may or may not threaten a strike.

40 Years Of Age

Consumption: Painful.

Recovery: The only area where you’ve demonstrated marked improvement over the years. You’ve learned the virtues of coconut water, Gatorade, 5-Hour Energy Drink, a half-teaspoon of salt, and guzzling your body weight in water.

Rated Liver Performance: Carrying “Solidarnosc” picket signs in public, threatening Bolshevic-style revolution.

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