Grant County. 26-year-old alcoholic Craig Wall was profoundly delighted last Friday when he was finally able to leave his exhausting and pointless factory job as a Forklift Driver at Pine Bark Industries and ‘not stop’ consuming can after can of Old Milwaukee Beer. After acknowledging that his ‘cut off’ point is usually 5 on Sundays through Thursdays, Craig confessed to being ‘ecstatically happy’ that he would have the opportunity to (once again) let his functional alcoholism out of the cage so that it could reach an entirely new level with the aid of Black Velvet Whiskey, Irish Car Bombs, Blue UV Vodka, Tequila, cheap bottles of Strawberry-flavored wine, and a lethal amount of Everclear. “People don’t understand the unfathomable agony I go through during the week,” said Wall, adding that it’s extraordinarily difficult to contain his ultimate desire to blank out, drool all over himself, howl at the moon, shit his pants, completely lose his ability to function both physically and cognitively, and incoherently babble ‘I’m from Wisconsin,’ before waking up in someone else’s back yard with no clothes on.”I’m not really allowed to ‘be myself’ on Sunday through Thursday nights after having only 5, so I need to successfully utilize my free time in order to reach that special place where I can just relax and forget about the excruciating physical and mental toil I endure on a regular basis,” Craig stated. “Fuck This Shit!,” he successfully added, after 40 relentless hours of operating a small (but comfortable) vehicle with cushioned seats while consuming monster energy drinks, honking his horn constantly down well-paved cement aisles, and occasionally screaming at terrified new hires to “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!” Craig, who fell through his next-door neighbor’s screen door two weeks ago before vomiting in her kitchen sink and landing face-first on her living room floor, proudly admitted that he’s not going to let his girlfriend’s disapproval, biased judgment, angry glares, or continual threats to find ‘somebody else’ prevent him from attaining the euphoric peace and self-actualization he feels after pushing himself past that 5th can of Old Milwaukee every Friday.