Dear AntiPope 1

I would like to take this opprotunity to introduce a brand spanking new feature here at Devin For Pope Dotcom: "Dear Antipope". In this section I will be taking actual letters written to Dear Abby and answer them myself, hopefully bringing hope to the hopeless, light into the darkness and Arena Rock into Communist China. So without and further ado:

After a rather tedious backstory about his parents and his new girlfriend, Worried in Worcester asks:

"Abby, how can I tell if I am an alcoholic? I don't have trouble controlling the
amount or frequency of when I drink, but I do get "mood swings" when I'm
intoxicated. Is that a classic sign?"

First off, Worried, if you ever call me Abby again you won't have to worry about drinking to much because I will staple you lips closed.

As to the drinking, different people define "drinking problem" and "alcoholism" in different ways. My own personal rule of thumb is that you shouldn't consider your drinking a problem until you have been physically removed from a bar for trying to shake Lucky Charms out of the pockets of a midget dressed up as a Leprachaun for St. Patricks Day because you are really hungry and the line at the pizza place next door is too long. Other experts may disagree, but that is my definition and I will stick by it. That said, your "mood swings" are a classic sign, a classic sign of you being a no-fun drunk. You are probably the jerk who decides that he wants to have a really serious discussion about his feelings about his ex-girlfriend after your 5th tequilla shot, while I'm trying to what a baseball game or hit on the waitress. So you know what, do us all a favor and just stop drinking.

In fact, Worried, stop going out altogether; just sit in your apartment by yourself, listen to Morrisey with the lights out and leave me the hell alone. God! "Worried in Worchester", how frikin' lame can you get. Why didn't you just call yourself "complete-bloody-buzzkill-pretending-to-have-a-girlfriend-in-a-letter-I-write-to-an-87-year- old-newspaper-advice-columnist-to-try-to-seem-cooler-while-sitting-alone-in-my-parents- basement-watching-Star-Trek-reruns-in-a-ratty-robe-stuffing-another-slice-of-Dominos-Meat-Lovers-pizza-down-my-throat-and-fantasizing-about-having-a-drinking-problem-so-I- can-see-myself-as-some-kind-of-tormented-artest-destroying-myself-with-liquor-because-of- the-sheer-weight-of-my-on-genius-and-not-as--32-year-old-assistant-night-manager-of-the-Best-Buy-on-Neponset-St-who-plays-bass-in-a-crappy-garage-band-that-does-all-it-can-to-sound-like-Creed in Worcester?.

I hate you.