#46
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#47
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But then you put it all back up, don't you?
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#48
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I Greggy.
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#49
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#50
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I laughed, sorry
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#51
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Don't be. It was probably funnier than this entire thread.
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#52
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Re: the liver thing
"His stay at The Priory was punctuated with bright moments and gentle ribbing. How tickled they all were at Richey's indignation when tests on his liver revealed he hadn't been drinking quite as much as he'd claimed." From here. It also mentions that anecdote about the other Manics calling him "Mr. Blobby," which seems relevant to this thread. |
#53
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#54
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__________________
Dancing like a beautiful dance whore |
#55
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Maybe it has something to do with the fact that your body has to use a certain amount of energy to process any calories. Sometimes it takes more energy to process certain things than is actually in the food or drink (like celery, lots of berries etc.) I don't know. See I don't make the alcohol I just drink it
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#56
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haha. That was funny.
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#57
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#58
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Anyway, regardless of what that liver test may have confirmed, it doesn't mean he wasn't an alcoholic. More than likely it just means he was exagerating the amount he was consuming. |
#59
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I'm guessing he was still drinking lots, although I'm sure not eating much of anything probably intensified the drinking experience. |
#60
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A think it may have been a joke - Richey getting all upset his liver wasn't completely pickled. He gave up the drink didn't he as part of the 12 steps. Only nothing is given to really take it's place so what you have to help blot things out is taken away hence I guess more cutting. Not that any of this really matters now. Drink to sleep. Starve because it gives you control. Feel sick and faint a lot Die Die thin, obviously
__________________
"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more," - Byron 'I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.' (from Sea Fever - John Masefield) "Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all" - Emily Dickinson |
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