Hangover cure, numero uno:
A] One super-dooper-fucking-huge iced cappuccino thingamabob with ass-loads of sugar and syrup in it.
B] Hank III on the CD player.
C] A cold, refreshing frothy beverage brewed of hopps and barley with only the finest grains used.
Directions:
1] Drink the aforementioned coffee-like substance with all due haste [Note - this may cause a negative reaction with your digestive tract depending upon whether you simply drank a lot or if you drank copious amounts the night prior. Keep this in mind, as your colon will appreciate this at a later -- although not MUCH later -- date.]
2] Turn on Hank. Loud. This serves three purposes; it's fun to sing along to at the top of your lungs, it pisses off the neighbors something fierce, and it muffles the screams of abject pain that'll be issuing forth from your throat [and sphincter] if you don't take into account the havoc the coffee drink will wreak on your stomach depending upon the amount of beverages imbibed. Again, for the love of God, reread the warning from 1].
3] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
4] Savor the smooth refreshing beer, which, by the way, was born of natural ingredients and is perfectly complimentary to many different meals, even if that meal is your stomach lining that is currently eating itself due to having no food in the apartment.
5] Make sure you have more beer about said abode, or you'll get all sortsa mad-ass angry and begin to throw about various items, which include, but are not limited to: a shoe, a camera case, a Maui Munkee, a wallet [with precious little cash in it], and/or the empty bottle which had just previously contained your nectar of life.
6] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
7] Remember that you have a 3/4 full bottle of Fris vodka and many, many lonely little olives in the fridge which SO need to be reacquainted with a martini.
8] Make a Blue Collar martini, which is one part vodka, two parts beer [which, surprisingly, was the remainder of a quart which was strategically located in the back of the fridge.]
9] Sing along to Hank, and give praise to the Beer Gods, because life is good.
10] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
And, viola!, no more hangover.
You pessimistic asses will probably blather something to the effect of, "Well, that's simply because you're drunk again."
And to that, I reply: "Fuck yourself. Whatever works works."
Oh.
I almost forgot!
Elvis Tribute show today.
Well, I can't think of any better reason to keep drinking ... can you?
Thank you, thank you very much.
-Scotty
PS Get better, B. Dehydrated leaves do not a good leaf make.
A] One super-dooper-fucking-huge iced cappuccino thingamabob with ass-loads of sugar and syrup in it.
B] Hank III on the CD player.
C] A cold, refreshing frothy beverage brewed of hopps and barley with only the finest grains used.
Directions:
1] Drink the aforementioned coffee-like substance with all due haste [Note - this may cause a negative reaction with your digestive tract depending upon whether you simply drank a lot or if you drank copious amounts the night prior. Keep this in mind, as your colon will appreciate this at a later -- although not MUCH later -- date.]
2] Turn on Hank. Loud. This serves three purposes; it's fun to sing along to at the top of your lungs, it pisses off the neighbors something fierce, and it muffles the screams of abject pain that'll be issuing forth from your throat [and sphincter] if you don't take into account the havoc the coffee drink will wreak on your stomach depending upon the amount of beverages imbibed. Again, for the love of God, reread the warning from 1].
3] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
4] Savor the smooth refreshing beer, which, by the way, was born of natural ingredients and is perfectly complimentary to many different meals, even if that meal is your stomach lining that is currently eating itself due to having no food in the apartment.
5] Make sure you have more beer about said abode, or you'll get all sortsa mad-ass angry and begin to throw about various items, which include, but are not limited to: a shoe, a camera case, a Maui Munkee, a wallet [with precious little cash in it], and/or the empty bottle which had just previously contained your nectar of life.
6] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
7] Remember that you have a 3/4 full bottle of Fris vodka and many, many lonely little olives in the fridge which SO need to be reacquainted with a martini.
8] Make a Blue Collar martini, which is one part vodka, two parts beer [which, surprisingly, was the remainder of a quart which was strategically located in the back of the fridge.]
9] Sing along to Hank, and give praise to the Beer Gods, because life is good.
10] Do a little dance. No ones looking. Do it. Fucker.
And, viola!, no more hangover.
You pessimistic asses will probably blather something to the effect of, "Well, that's simply because you're drunk again."
And to that, I reply: "Fuck yourself. Whatever works works."
Oh.
I almost forgot!
Elvis Tribute show today.
Well, I can't think of any better reason to keep drinking ... can you?
Thank you, thank you very much.
-Scotty
PS Get better, B. Dehydrated leaves do not a good leaf make.
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I have quite a few others that I'll post in the future, grumbly.
-Me
all you gotta do is find his "special spot" and he melts.
or maybe that was just i was naked. i tend to have that affect on certain felines.
meow.