Thursday, 12 June 2008

A Hangover as Massive as My Ex-Girlfriend’s Arse

Awake with a thump. Heart beating like a fucked clock, and nerves shrieking like a xylophone being scraped with a fork. Try to focus but thoughts misfire, plonk and plink like knives and forks being flushed down the toilet. Stumble to bathroom, slop water down mouth, and lurchingly glimpse self in mirror. Not good. Head has apparently been dried out and shrunken while sleeping.

No no no. Someone or something is hammering my mind on an anvil with a bowling ball. Mouth filthy and dry as the floor of a parrot cage.

What. The. Fuck! Why do I do this to myself? Why do these muscles hurt? Did I make out with anyone? Whose email addresses are these in my pocket? Why is there a traffic cone in my bed?

Please make this stop. I’ll rewind rental video tapes. I’ll wash my car. I’ll recycle.

Loser syndrome. A black mood arrives like a Leonard Cohen box set. I hate this house, this job, this relationship, this life. I HATE everything. Except Myprodol. Aaah…

The painkillers are kicking in. All is better now. Screw the bargaining, I’m not going to drink until I… do.


Jake said...

tee hee. had one last week that turned on me bad. full scale panic attack. circuits round the park trying not to die. Going to see laughing len soon at glasto.

Jess said...

Frikken best description of a hangover. Ever.

Anonymous said...

piracy affects porn but it's still winner during the crunch

interracial sex

Anonymous said...

Cheers. Good content. Had been seeking a little while. Longing for more weblogs by you in the foreseeable future.

Anonymous said...

Nice bit of copy I have to admit. Well developed and very valuable, many thanks!

Anonymous said...

You do a great job. You should always keep writing. Thanks a lot