A buddy of mine, more of a friend of friends than somebody I was super tight with, just passed away. From cirrhosis. At 33. "I Need A Drink" was the more accurate choice for a title, but I just couldn't.
Think he used to work at the day job, and he's friends with a good handful of the circle I roll with from in and around there. Nice guy. He'd been hospitalized for a month and a half, I just heard a week or two ago. In bad enough shape that even for somebody so young, he really is in a better place now.
Something I didn't have the balls to inquire about but was indeed apparently a large factor in his decision to slowly drink himself to death was catching a real bad one in the club one night five or six years ago. Somebody in the crew noticed their wallet was missing and stepped to the girl they had just been dancing with. Shit jumped off, and some bitch came up from behind my boy and slashed his face from right below the eye all the way down his cheek, real bad. He wasn't the cleanest living guy before that, but it sounds like that little lifestyle he had carved out just allowed him to throw in the towel that much more under the radar from everybody.
I used to see him around when he must have started his decline and he was always talking about wanting to hang out, which I always interpreted as small talk and just kinda blew off. So I feel great right now.
You guys, don't drink yourselves to death, and don't go to dumbass clubs without a really good reason.