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The Hangover Thread.


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I don't get an upset stomach much either. I once thought I was Lactose Intolerant because every time I ate cheese, I'd spend the following day on the bog. I just soldiered on through that, and forced my gut to be tolerant. I even once ate some raw sausages. Fuck Salmonella. I haven't actually been sick, other than drink related puking (which has only happened twice) since that McDonalds when I was about 17.

This is a great topic. We should all meet up in a basement or a car park and see whose stomach could fight whose.

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  • 1 month later...

Was at a charity dinner last night and i feel disgusting today. I was drinking jaegermeister neat - not something i've done before but i actually quite liked it. Im a big fan of jaegerbombs (because im a lad and all that #ladz4life) but not having the red bull at least allowed me to get a better sleep. Today has been spent hiding in the corner of my office and making many trips to the bogs for some good ol' fashioned hungover toldies.

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My earlier claims in the weekend thread that I'm feeling okay today may have been a little off the mark. The fact that I need to leave for work shortly and I've not showered or had lunch yet suggests I may be a little affected by last night's drinks.

I would feel sorry for you but your afternoon start to work makes me extremely jealous. You cunt.

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Holy balls, I feel rough as cunts today. I don't usually get hangovers other than a general queasy sort of feeling. The Eurovision was mostly unbearable but the missus wanted to watch it, so I drank about 6 pints of rum and coke in the space of 3 hours, whilst watching what I could of the England game. I'd had 2 or 5 pre-dinner beers too, so I was already on my way to Drunxville.

There's nothing worse than being hungover when it's bright and warm as fuck. Can't even curl up under a duvet, otherwise I'll sweat like hell and probably dehydrate myself more. So I'm sprawled on the sofa in my boxer shorts with a bag of frozen peas on my face.

Pretty sure I still feel fairly drunk too. Who wants a fight? You owe me money.

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rum and coke

is what killed me last night.

After a few hours of cava drinking and then some hours of beer drinking I was in good shape. Ended up at a flat party with loads of people I'd never met before (one from Banchory!). Some fit girls there who I assume all wanted to sex me up because my chat was so great. They were all denied the opportunity after the rum seemed to almost instantaneously turn me into a bliberring wreck. I had to be assisted home. I could barely walk, I must have looked like I was dancing to dubsteb.

Having Irn Bru in the fridge when I woke up is the only thing that saved me from dying.

Loads of people left my flat earlier to head out to the beach. I've stayed in to wallow in lonely misery.

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Fuck mixers, man. The sugary sweetness covers up how liver-smashingly strong spirits are, no matter how liberal you are with the measurements. I was drinking pints of rum and coke like they were pints of coke. Totally ruined.

I should have stuck to the beers, as I usually get full and bloaty before I get hammered, so I know when to stop.

I wish I was dead.

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I'm supposed to be going to a beach party tonight. I might have to tell that to fuck off.

All I want is to go to sleep and wake up and it be saturday again so I can do it differently.

I drink rum and coke way to fast too. In a bar I'll be alright since I'll be thinking of how much money I'm spending but in a flat I just keep going back for more. And more.

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This weekend is Mo-Fest, the Montrose music festival and while I'm living large and in charge down in Edinburgh, my friends and family back home are there. Got a text last night from my sis saying that my dad had just had to put my brother to bed cos he was such a shape. He's 30 and it was twenty past six.

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