“Gluttony” by Pieter Breugel the Elder
Let’s talk about gluttony…
It was pretty early into my sobriety, that I realized alcoholics are gluttons. I can tell you that I still grapple with the bottomlessness of my desires.
(Speaking of puking, doesn’t that sound like it belongs in a bodice-ripper romance novel?)
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Thorn Bartleby strode steadfastly into the castle-keep, his poet’s shirt torn and muddied from the joust. His exposed, rippling bicep coiled like a serpent in a sparrow’s nest. He seized the slender, milky arm of Desmerelda (knocking the ever-present wine glass from her manicured mitt) and pulled her to his tawny, rock-hardness. Desmerelda’s alabaster knees buckled, and she sank with tortured abandon into the (wait for it) bottomlessness of her desires…
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I need to get out more..
Anyway, this is an old but good post about alcoholism and Gluttony. Read it and whimper…
