Imagine a recovery meeting where they rewrite the opening script to be “trauma-informed.” A woman with missing teeth and good intentions reads the new line and says, “Wow, this is a bit of a mouthful.”
The room freezes. Half the men hear an innocent idiom. The other half (me included) hear a blowjob joke from 1997.
I mutter, “I’d give her a mouthful.” Someone laughs. Someone storms out. We pray anyway.

This isn’t about cancel culture. It’s about the predator that never leaves the room just because you got sober. It’s about how language is a loaded gun, and recovery only teaches you to hide it under the chair instead of pulling the trigger.

Raw, filthy, uncomfortably honest: one man’s confession that the thoughts don’t stop just because the drinking did. If you’ve ever sat in the back row terrified of your own mind, this one’s for you. Hit play. You already know the slogan: keep coming back… it works if you work it. Even when “it” is the ugliest truth you’ve never shared out loud.