Hemingway, Bukowski, Kerouac

I can certainly see the reason both of these giants imbibed in incredible amount. The verbosity of liquor is undisputed champion of all the chemical infatuations. At least for some certain few. Some people like Burroughs loved the heroine, but although I have love for that in a small way, the fear of the big H addiction has kept me from over (or indulging at all) indulging. The alcohol burns the throat slightly then sends almost instantaneous the tendrils of happiness spreading from the gut to thighs and spine, last to head it can make you forget you're imbibing until too late. Such fuel for the writer however. The energy to write about anything boosted by the bodies processing alcohol sugars. That's all for now. I need to save my creative energy for the rest of "This guy, That guy" Do we have a set amount? Beginning to believe we do...