Anyway, as I said, I’ll be downtown for a wedding tonight. Since most of my BRAHS are in town, shit is about to get sloppy. The wife knows that it’s going down and she’s letting me off my leash. This can only lead to good things. She even beat me to the punch by saying that she would go home to take care of the dog after the reception and I could just pass out on a hotel room floor and not worry about anything. Sometimes she’s alright! Clearly, she knows me too well.
Needless to say, come Saturday morning, I am going to be a dragon-breathed corpse. Slowly but surely, as I age, my hangovers are progressively getting worse. It’s not that they hurt, per se, but just that I am way more sloth-like than I used to be. I guarantee that I lay on the couch for at least 6 hours the following day. Now back in my awesome college binge-drinking days, I used to have a full proof system for hangover defeat. I didn’t turn it into the New England Journal of Medicine or anything, but a bottle of chocolate milk and a double cheeseburger from any fast food grease trap did the trick every time. That lovely combo would crush HighLife-itis every single morning after.
Now, I pretty much just slug a pot of coffee and take 8 shits before lunch as a means to deal with the pain. It’s not really effective but I can think of worse places to be than on my toilet.
And that is the topic for today’s open forum…How do our commenters combat the cursed hangover? I feel like smoothies would work. I can’t imagine that fruit would be a bad thing. I don’t know though; your thoughts?
If you’re looking for a fantasy football site to read today, check out my burgeoning brosephs here. I think that I’m going to assist in some mock fantasy drafts over there later this summer. They chose their experts wisely. My reputation of ELITEness precedes me. Have a good weekend and I’ll be back on Monday if I don’t drink myself into a coma tonight. Oh—speaking of which, if you’re going to be downtown tonight, text me and I’ll let you know where this certain blimp crash of a wedding reception ends up. Trust me; you’re going to want to see this.