Moments when you might want to consider laying off the bottle for a little while and seeking professional help:

When you pull up next to me on your Harley and proudly state you have been tossing them back at the Goat Hill. I'm not impressed. I WILL be impressed if they don't have to use a spatula to clean you up off the 55 later.

When you climb up your neighbor's backyard fence wearing nothing but a miniskirt and bikini top, fall over and catch the side of their house with your hands, and then slowly slide, face first, into a big bed of rose bushes.

When you wake up in the arms of a beautiful fireman cause you started drinking at 11 AM. Yesterday. Only it wasn't in his bedroom. It was in the hallway of your dorm. And then receiving his $400 bill for ambulatory services. And an underage consumption charge.

When you decide to rob your neighbor for pizza money. And then punch the cop who arrests you.

When you are getting a BJ in the back of your friend's car and can't finish because you just threw up on her head.

When you stumble into your dorm room and find a 300 pound naked man asleep on your couch.

When you wake up and find that you are a 300 pound naked man asleep on a couch, and have no idea where you are, how you got there, or why you are not wearing any clothing.

When you are an attractive female and wake up naked on the couch in a strange dorm room, and have no idea where you are, how you got there, or why you aren't wearing any clothes.

When you are hauled out of the water because you sped down a dead-end street and launched your Toyota (and your five-year-old daughter) through the retaining wall and thirty feet into Newport Harbor.

When you wake up dead because you decided to shimmy up a street light in Las Vegas, hang off the wires, and then fall electrocuted twenty five feet onto your head.

When your mom sees you on national television standing on the roof of a car during a NCAA Championship street riot, your pants completely around your ankles.

When you stumble into your dorm room and have a 3/4 inch hole the length of your finger in your calf and no idea how it got there.

When you find yourself spun around and facing a pissed off Mighty Jimbo after you reached for the back of his favorite lady-friend and shouted threateningly at her because she accidentally bumped into you in a crowded hotel bar while en route to our table in the restaurant. A. You are bound to get tossed out of the place when you cause a scene in a $15 per drink bar on a Wednesday. B. You never, EVER want to square off with a woman from Oakland who has pink hair, a bad attitude, and a working knowledge of assault rifles. And C. You ever reach for my date again and you will have to drink that Pinot Grigio through a straw. Just cause I'm a metrosexual doesn't mean I can't totally kick your flabby, Armani covered, Yuppie ass.