Drugs Are For Losers (And The Showman)

Greetings, sportsfans! Bumpers here. Folks, I gotta admit something to you all today. Lately, I’ve been thinking that I could use a little more excitement in my life. I haven’t had a really great time since at least 1983 when, probably not coincidentally, I was doing hard drugs at least three times a day.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, "Showman! Didn’t you just party with Snoop Dogg and Dom DeLuise this week alone?" And you’re right. I did do those things.
Yet I still feel a little hollow in some ways. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous can be delightful at times, but it can also get a little old. I really miss the feelings of euphoria and confidence you can only get through regular substance use and abuse.

So I was sitting in my chair last night, drinking a scotch and seriously considering going down to Panama for the three-day weekend and having a relapse to end all relapses. I knew I would eventually end up struggling with my addictions yet again, but at that point, I just didn’t care. I was seconds away from calling up some old friends I haven’t seen in a while, when there was a knock on the door.

The knocking persisted, and that’s when I remembered that I sent my assistant home early. So I trudged over to the door, where I was greeted with a rather pleasant surprise. An absolutely gorgeous young lady was standing before me. What luck! I hadn’t answered my own door since ’76 when the pizza guy was a half-hour late. God, did I beat that guy raw.

Anyway, the young lass before me had a backpack on her, and I asked what she was carrying. She laid the backpack on the floor, opened it up and pulled out an immense bag of Bolivian Novocaine and a jetpack. We quickly took care of the bag, strapped on the jetpack and went flying over Los Angeles to see if we could find some trouble.

We didn’t find any trouble, but we did run into Huey Lewis, sans The News, of course. Huey was driving his patented new heli-car, which he said really helps him beat the traffic. My gal and I waved goodbye and flew away. The next thing you know, we were in outer space. We got a close look at the rings of Saturn, raced Mercury around the Sun (we lost), and collected rocks from Mars to sell on eBay.

After we finished with that, we…

Whoa, wait a minute. What’s going on here? I’m sorry, folks, but I am as high as a freakin’ jetplane right now. These hand-rolled cigarettes Snoop gave me yesterday really pack a punch.

If you’ll excuse me now, I’d better go call my A.A. counselor before something crazy goes down this weekend.

I’m winkin’ at ya, and thinkin’ of ya.
The Showman