Dear Diary, today I have support group. Friggin Hopper says I have an alcohol problem, so I have to attend therapy. I tell you what, if any of those noobs in group ask me to talk about my feelings, I'll be out of there and in a bar faster than my good friend Jimmy Fallon from my stand-up days could say "gap-tooth." Jimmy Fallon has a gap in his teeth, right? Or maybe I'm thinking of another Jimi.
Ba-dum pssh.
Oh well. I'll prove to Hopper I don't have a problem. My name is Leroy, and I'm an alcoholic – yeah, right! I'll show him, or my name isn't …. Leroy.
Just Leroy.
….
