Obituary of a Rock Star

I love when people who claim to be big partyers brag about their exploits & I’m like "damn, that's it?  I call that a slow Tuesday."  True partyers go weeks on end living off nothing but alcohol, cigarettes & LSD.  True partyers drink beer...to sober up.  They’ll fill a van full of empties, not to return them, but in hopes of getting a few beers worth of schwag from their collective bottoms.  True partyers graduate college with a higher BAC than GPA.  They don’t give a fuck.  They do beer funnels...filled with Draino and do power hours...with tequila.  They get arrested for disorderly conduct so much they refer to cop cars as "my driver".  They go on 72-hour benders and are reported dead, yet show up to work on Monday, alive and well, flask in hand, with a new story to tell.  True partyers never quit drinkin'.  Their liver holds up a white flag and joins the party.  They become known worldwide by musicians, actors and all the cool cats around the world, and get to have their picture taken with Derek Jeter, Chuck Norris and Jesus.  Their name becomes a rally cry for drug cartels in their shootouts with Federales.   By the end of their ride, they've had a cocktail, marijuana strand, sexual position and STD named after them.  When they die, all the bars and rehab centers in the country fly their flags at half-staff. They leave outstanding warrants in 18 states and bastard children in 9 more.