the -*** hangover: You feel like a million dollars and go to the gym....

Puc

(******) "The Christmas Party"
You come to naked in a king sized bed with no sheets or blankets and turn to your left. There is a girl's feet there and she is passed out naked next to you. You don't remember much from the night before, but you have bruises all over your neck and your knees and you have deep gouges in in your back and your scalp is burning. The window is open and a construction worker leans in brushing snow off the window sill and into the room, so he can ask if you have a light for a cigarette. It is 8am and you are expected at work in an hour. You have no idea where you are, nor where your clothes are. You try to wake the girl up and you see that it is a coworker. She mumbles "fuck me Andy" and then passes out again. You scrounge through the random broken things on the floor and find the sheets and blankets - along with broken glasses, some perfume bottles, a phone that is off the hook and beeping louder than you've ever heard any household applicance make noise ever before. You find pants that you pray are yours, your jacket, and you throw them both on as you fall down the stairs of the apartment you are in. You stumle out onto the street to find a taxi and realize you're not entirely sure you remember where you live. You somehow get home and are getting dressed to head right back out to work when your apartment mates find you. You mumble something about whores and then go to work, paranoid the whole time on the T that you migh thave had an altercation the with one of your train mates the night previously. You have a receipt in your pocket for a hotel that you, nor anyone else you know, has ever heard of. You then spend the day at work wishin a swift death would come to you as you rest your face on the keyboard and hold on to your desk for dear life in hopes that it will stop spinning so fast.

(*******) "Visiting friends in Tampa"
You come to face down on a smelly carpet. You lift your head to see that you are are behind a couch and you hear someone mentioning that someone from MA got mugged. You laugh inside thinking that person is a loser. Then you realize that you are from MA, and you just may have been mugged. You sit up and someone asks you if you remember them. You don't. Your head is throbbing and swollen behind the ear. You don't know anyone in the room and you've never been to this place before. There is someone passed out on the couch and two people drinking beer on the deck and it is 8am. A girl comes out of the shower and tells you she will give you a ride home, but you don't know where home is. They have a computer, so you go to check e-mail, but can't remember any of your login names let along passwords, even though they are simple permutations of your first and last name. It comes out that you were beat up by a redneck the night before, and you lost all your money, one credit card, broke you wallet, and gave your cell phone to some girl you didn't know so "she'd know where to find you" - but none of this bothers you when you find out that you didn't puke. You finally remember something about Hooters and tell the girl, she uses that to somehow triangulate the location that you need to be brought to, and this amazes you. The ride home is testing at best and you try not to puke - she buys you a gatorade at a 7-11 on the way and you somehow lose it at the next stop light. In reality you had just absorbed the entire thing through your forehead without noticing it. She engages you in a detailed discussion of surealist art and Salvador Dali and how she spent considerable time working for a velvet painting shop where she did likenesses of Elvis, horses, and sunsets. When you finally get home, your friends are calling the hospitals and cops and you stumble in only wanting to sleep for the rest of your life.

(********) "Going Away Party"
You wake up in bed and feel very rested. Teh only odd thing is that you had some weird dreams, your room is sickly sweet smelling and your drenched and so is everything in your room. Speaking of you room, it is strangely trashed - broken guitars, drawers pulled out, clothes everywhere, and a trashcan is next to you in bed - and it isn't entirely clear if you threw up in or near it or not. You stumble out into the living room looking for your cell phone. There are several people standing there asking if you are okay - you don't see any reason why you shouldn't be, other than you may or may not have puked in your room. You have some vague memory of a straw in a taxi cab, and the Vice President of the company you formerly worked at being very mad at you. And you back is VERY sore. You find that you don't know where your phone is - but then the house phone rings, you answer it, and the person calling has your phone. That person was the person who threw the party you were at the night before and is very mad at you for some reason. Through him and the people in your apartment, as well as several other people relating the events to you for over a month to come afterwards - you find out that you 1) consumed your weight in scotch from a bottle that easily held several gallons, 2) you hooked up with one of your coworkers, 3) you did something so bad to one of your coworkers that she still won't tell you what it was, 4) you screamed and harassed some other people, 5) you were in the process of trying to seduce a fat chick in the bedroom when you passed out facedown on the floor into a puddle of your own vomit, 6) after getting slapped many times by everyone at the party in an order to revive you, the Vice President of the company slaps you - this wakes you out of your deathlike coma and you then lift him up to head level and then procede to body slam him onto the floor, into your puke, and then pass out again on top of him and puke on him, 7) in the course of the body slamming, someone's leg broke a dresser, 8) the puke stained the white carpet, 9) your best friend was calling your girlfriend on your cell phone to leave a voice mail for her at 2am that you are dead and she shouldn't worry - he then leaves your phone conveniently on the floor. So now you are so hung over thatyou are having out of body experiences and you the self that you are watching is puking every 30 mins like clockwork. You need to get your phone, so you take the T across the city to get it, but the movement and smell of the T is too much, so you have to get out at every single stop to go above ground to get some fresh air and puke in a garbage can. They aren't hom when you go to get the phone, so you have to go all the way back home, puking all the way. This hangover state lasts for 3 days, with the puking eventually slowing to a more reasonable every 5 hour rate.
You decide then and there to never drink again and haven't since.

I still maintain that the best drinking story I've heard was my friend that woke up in another state with a tattoo of a hot dog on his forearm - I've written about it before on this board in a post called "benders" or something like that.

Quite simply it means how many Clydesdales does it take to drag her off my face....big bitch the other night was a seven....my personal best to date....heh heh heh

beauty is only a lightswitch away