According to extensive observations in the field, there are at least four taxonomic rubrics under which drinking people can be classified:
1) Mirthful Drunks:
Mirthful Drunks are making merry, giggling, telling jokes (badly) and recounting endless tales-- including byzantine digressions-- on (supposedly) humorous events which have befallen them. Often, members of this species fall prey to their own practical jokes; fortunately, they are capable of laughing at themselves, so they become very popular buffoons. As a consequence, they are invited to more parties than they can possibly attend. They are the proverbial "Life of the Party". In their sober manifestations, they also tend to be the proverbial "Salt of the Earth." Everyone, presumably, would like to be a Mirthful Drunk.
2) Amorous Drunks:
Eros has sunk a harpoon deep into the souls of these drunks. It does not matter how disgustingly unattractive the object of the Amorous Drunk's one-night affections is... the Object of Consuming Passion is pursued with an ardor which would embarrass the Young Werther. Amorous Drunks are often successful in capturing their prey, and awake the following morning in a rather different frame of mind, much to the chagrin of their conquests. The Public Health Services should make note of the Amorous Drunks-- perhaps even maintain a roster-- as they are disease vectors of no small consequence.
3) Maudlin Drunks:
We've all seen the Maudlin Drunk. Inebriation turns the Maudlin Drunk into a lonely, isolated, misunderstood, self-flagellating embodiment of eternal woe. The Maudlin Drunk is the antipode of the Mirthful Drunk... he is the very picture of care and sorrow. When I see the Maudlin Drunk, I fall upon the thorns of Life. I bleed.
4) Belligerent Drunks:
Unfortunately, we're all also familiar with the Belligerent Drunk. Usually male, this variety of drunk is looking for a fight. No provocation is required... he'll find SOMETHING to escalate into a fistfight. Politics? Religion? An Amorous eyeing the woman he imagines is his girlfriend? A Maudlin in the corner he imagines is a faggot? No matter. He won't be satisfied until there's a confrontation. Amazingly, physical size and prowess is entirely irrelevant to the Belligerent Drunk's depredations.
So, witch kind of drunk æ® ye? Whatever variety you are, do you think you got that way as a result of the deterministic influences of heredity or environment ("nature or nurture"), or do you harbor the fatuous, ludicrous, PREPOSTEROUS notion that it is your FREE WILL to behave like asses when you're fucked up on ethanol?
Do tell!!!
