Irritable Male Syndrome

Friday, May 04, 2007

I shouldn't be as hungover today as I am, but boy, this morning was not easy.

"Nice sweat stain in the back of your shirt" she said while we were walking to the bar. We had just finished up a very unsuccesful geocaching session along the banks of the Ol' Miss, The Old Man, and I'd been wearing my new manpurse Camelbak. I'm a big fan of wearing long underwear shirts as an under-shirt, and this one just happened to have moisture wicking properties, and holy shit did it wick.

So, I was going to the bar wearing a shirt that looked like it had been worn by a fatty in a sauna on the sun, it was that wet. Hooray for being a sexy bitch!

It was Ladies Night; free well/rail drinks and free domestic beer from 9pm-11pm for the lizzadies. The upper-crust, Aristocrat vodka pretty much insured that their crippling hangover this morning was free of charge as well. I once saw a homeless turn down a free Aristocrat heavy vodka tonic and then immediately take a swig of Listerine. Who knows, maybe he was a very periodontally aware bum, but I doubt it.

That reminds me of that massive hangover I had from drinking well vodka/redbull at the IP. Worst. Hangover. Ever. And I only had 3 that night at the most. Not 3 drinks, total, but just those 3 there. Had I not been drunk already when I started in on 'em, I may have notice chunks of impurities floating in my drink. But I was, and I didn't. They were there, though, and they somehow found a way to lodge themselves deeply in my frontal lobe, little spikey pieces of shit that they are.

That night, my friend Amber, her friend and I all passed out in my bed. We woke up in the morning, fully clothed, thank you very much, ordered pizza at noon, and then promptly passed out back out until 4pm, praying that our hangovers--the size of Godzilla's nards--would go away. If you know me at all, you know that I hate sleeping past, say, 11am, even with a hangover.

Like I said, worst hangover ever.

I can only imagine how those girls, all those pretty, pretty girls that put on something skimpy for a night out, looked at the end of the night. To me there is nothing sexier than long hair hanging in the toilet water.

But then again, I'm a big fan of anorexia.


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