Over the first 16 years of your life, I had four jobs and was fired from all of them. My evaluations would say things like "The poorest work habits I've ever seen." I felt entitled to cheat, lie, use people, and hurt people (ask your mom) out of what I called anger. But it wasn't anger. It was self-pity. And its fuel was alcohol. Sound familiar? Dude, it runs in families. Your mother and your sister and I all wish we could force you to get sober, but all of us know it doesn't work that way. All I can say is that when I finally dumped alcohol, everything fell into place for me. And you're like me. I only hope it doesn't take until you're fifty-fucking-five years old to snap to the fact, because this show is getting hard to watch.