(On why he quit drinking) When I was 22, I got a job working as co-host of Singled Out, MTV’s mass human-fluid transfer experiment. It was a weird accident, and had I been mentally prepared to handle the responsibility, it would have been a good thing. But the erroneous lesson that I learned from getting hired at MTV was “work just falls into your lap.” What followed were several years of laziness, drinking, and fuck-ups on my part. This “woo-hoo par-tay” attitude piloted my brain through my twenties as I tried desperately to ditch the scared, wienerly nerd I had always been to fit in with the “cool kids,” whoever those oft-referred-to assholes are. Three years after the MTV gig ended, I was doing stand-up full-time and unwittingly tripped over my 30th birthday. It was at this first mortality mile-marker that I began to look around at my life: I was consuming a baby elephant’s weight in alcohol every day. I lived in a shitty apartment near UCLA (where I had gone to school-apparently I had become that dude who wouldn’t leave), my apartment was always a mess, I had ruined my credit, and I had no real work prospects. I had become what I’d always dreaded being-the fat, drunk guy who used to be on television. Back when I was working at MTV (which oddly, at one time, aired short films set to popular music), people used to talk about an MTV curse-that you might not “hit it any bigger” after your time there. I always recoiled at the thought of this curse, and here I was taking active steps every fucking day to make it happen… I knew that I had two choices: I could continue living the way I was living and die pickled and unemployed, or make sweeping changes with the hope of salvaging my life.
Chris Hardwick is kinda my recent hero