Now, I’m not much of a religious guy. In fact, I’m not at all a religious guy. And what’s more, I’ve always been a firm believer in the old adage that one should never mix discussing religion and drinking, as it is likely to end in hurt feelings or bloody noses or other unpleasantries that a pacifist (read: scrawny German/Irish guy) such as myself would prefer not to deal with if it could be avoided.
If there was a Moses, and if he occasionally enjoyed an alcohol-related libation, and if he wanted a do-over, perhaps he would consider the following ten rules as eligible enough commandments to be chiseled into some stone tablets and pronounced on high for all to hear throughout the land:
These are true words to live by, my friends. Unbeknownst to me, I have made a practice of most of the aforementioned rules, and I have many, many pretty killer stories to tell. And few regrets. Well, some regrets. You’ve only got one go-around on this merry-go-round–you might as well get as geezed up as possible.