You want to know why I drink?
Alright, then. I'll tell you why I drink.
This may take a while.
REASON #0001: Because 65,000 Pittsburgh Steeler fans stood up and cheered Ben Roethlisberger with all their hearts since he improved the competitiveness of their local football team.
REASON #0002: Because I may never get to see the thrilling conclusion to last week's cliffhanger episode of Chansi Stuckey: Punt Returner
REASON #0003: Because most types of beer and every drop of Bushmill's Irish Whiskey tastes really, really good. Especially when a cigar is involved.
REASON #0004: Because at least one dozen reporters talked to Steelers LB James Harrison yesterday and were afraid enough of him to forget to laugh in his face while witnessing a tantrum that would be embarrassing for a three-year-old in a grocery store check-out line.
REASON #0005: Because my hair is abandoning my scalp, and I want my liver to find out where it is and keep it company.
REASON #0008: Because I've realized that sports commentary on the internet has lower economic value than an Egg McMuffin, and less than half the shelf life.
REASON #0009: Because there's no copy of Berenstain Bears and the Case of Too Much Headhunting that I can send to various pouting human missiles around the NFL.
REASON #0010: Because we somehow allowed the Steelers to complete a 50-yard flailing, hanging, bobbling Weeble of a pass from their own end zone when we were down by just four in the second half.
REASON #0011: Because Stephen Hawking's contention that there is no proof that intelligence provides any inherent survival advantage is proven every day in Junior High School hallways.
REASON #0012: Because Brett Favre stayed around long enough to be proven very, very human and, like the rest of us, very, very flawed.
REASON #0014: Because I can make absolutely no freaking sense out of that Jerome Harrison trade whatsoever. For the record, any parent who has lived through the teen years of their children does not get rattled, no matter how aggressive the pouting gets or how radically the lower lip quivers. This is why Eric Mangini will be a better coach 20 years from now.
REASON #0015: Because introverts don't write so much as simply transcribe their inner dialogues and, as you can tell from my writing, my inner dialogues are not only kind of whiny, but overflowing with commas.
REASON #0016: Because I used to really enjoy it when Cleveland had a Major League Baseball franchise.
REASON #0017: Because no matter how I try to talk into a microphone, I can't even hide the sheer power of my doofiness on radio.
REASON #0018: Because my mind is unable to adapt to the notion that something called "Chad Ochocinco" exists.
REASON #0019: Because watching practices convinced me that Abe Elam was going to be a solid addition in the defensive backfield and that Seneca Wallace wasn't tall enough to be effective at quarterback.
REASON #0020: Because I realize now that the at-home lobotomy kit I ordered was intended to be a joke and is not an effective means to protect my soul from corruption from now until after elections.
REASON #0021: Because I live in a world that would blame me for acting in an immature fashion if I smeared a jelly donut all over the handle of Lebron James car door so that it gets all over his hands. But I really want to.
REASON #0022: Because if my wife catches her overweight husband with a jelly donut in his hands, in any event, he's going to get slapped upside the head.
REASON #0023: Because I know now that my cat brought me all those mice not because he thought I was some sort of God requiring tribute, but because he thought I was the world's most pathetic rodent hunter, and obviously had no clue how to go about getting myself lunch.
REASON #0024: Because I don't want Peyton Hillis to ever do anything other than run the ball for the Cleveland Browns, and I know that NFL careers don't last forever.
REASON #0026: Because I have barely scratched the surface.
I stole the idea for this column after corresponding with a Twitter follower with the handle ReasonsImADrunk. I really liked the notion of blaming others for my own weaknesses, hence this column. For the record, my family tells me that this piece should be titled something akin to "Why I Would Drink More if I Had Free Time", or "Why I Would Drink Extensively If I Wasn't Always Trying to Lose Weight". Even my kids feel bad about interfering with my drinking time, bless 'em.