was intoxicated. Blitzed. Bombed. Three sheets to the wind. I could go on and come up with a slew of descriptions. She never denied it, never tried to portray herself as the sainted lady of Stanford. She had little to no memory of anything that happened. The Defense made her ...
in the bar, and Bill said he’d buy me a drink and I said I’d buy him one. Then he said to me, ‘OK, here we go. Tell me how screwed up NASCAR is.’ I said, ‘You ain’t got that much time and they ain’t got enough liquor.'” ...