I’m off apple juice.
Truth is, I had tried to go cold turkey many a time, but I always fall off the wagon soon thereafter. Now, many dust-up’s later, I’m happily on the wagon, chewing on a wheat stalk, trotting away into the sunset.
‘Apple juice,’ of course–like every second phrase on this blog–is a euphemism. It doesn’t matter what it symbolizes, for two reasons: one, I’m sure you guys are not ones to enjoy aired dirty laundry; two, and more importantly, an addiction is an addiction. Matters little if it’s coke, Coke, drugs, alcohol, pain killers, sex, chocolate, or apple juice.