The doctors told me I have an “addictive personality with obsessive-compulsive tendencies.” Apparently the brain mechanism that allows other people to enjoy vices in moderation is broken in my noggin. So as enthusiastic as I am about gambling, I don’t let myself bet on sports online. It’s also why I can’t play fantasy football or go to Las Vegas without supervision or let women sleep in my apartment overnight.
Say what you will about Lauren — I’m getting too old to get turned on by edgy dye jobs, and the mere mention of “Terrell Owens” gives me a vague nausea — but if such a thing as the perfect storm of legal-yet-addictive vice exists, it would have to be a tattooed, bisexual chick from a sports gambling website telling me how to play a drinking game while I watch football.
Well, friends, such a thing exists.
If anyone needs me I’ll be in the gutter.