HangOvers

[Hands of Stone]

Subject: How To Rank Your Hangover


1 star hangover *
No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your sleep last night was a mere
disco nap which has given you a whole lot of misplaced energy. Be glad that you
are able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You
can drink 10 sodas and still feel this way. You are craving a steak sub
and a side of gravy fries.

2 star hangover **
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have
the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only
exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a fruity pancake from
Waffle House. There is some definite havoc being wrecked upon your bowels.

�3 star hangover ***

Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive.
Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the
random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer
86'd you at 1:45 a.m. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed
with a dozen donuts and a meatball sub watching the E! fashion awards. You've
had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 Iced Teas and a diet coke - yet you
haven't peed once. You decide the Havana Omelet you are going to leave in
the bathroom is better done on another floor, so you don't have to walk by
and smell it the rest of the day.

4 star hangover ****

Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else
you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has
given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't
hide the fact that you missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, (girls, it
looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars.) Your
eyes look like one big vein and your hair style makes you look like a reject
from the class picture of Revere High, ' 76. Your
sphincter is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about 5 shits you take
during the day makes the eyes water of everyone who enters the bathroom.

5 star hangover *****, aka "Dante's 4th Circle of Hell."

You have a second heartbeat in your head which is actually annoying the
employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every
pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of
your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the
poop fairy out. �Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your
tongue is suffocating you. Death seems pretty good right now. You
definitely don't remember who you were with, where you were, what you drank, and why
there is a stranger still sleeping in your bed at your otherwise empty
house. Any attempt to defecate results in a fire hose like discharge of
alcohol scented fluid with a rare 'floater' thrown in. The sole purpose of
this 'floater' seems to be to splash the toilet water all over your ass.

6 star hangover ******�otherwise known as the "Infinite Nutsmacker"

You wake up on your bathroom floor. For about 2 seconds you look at the
ceiling, wondering if the cool refreshing feeling on your cheek is the
bathroom tile, or your vomit from 3 hours ago. It is amazing how your
roommate was as drunk as you, but somehow managed to get up before you;
shower and already leave for work. You try to lift your head. Not an
option. Then you inadvertently turn your head too quickly and smell the funk of 13
packs of cigarettes in your hair. Suddenly you realize you were smoking,
but not ultra lights...some jackass handed you Marlboro reds, and you smoked
them like it was your second full time job. �You look in the mirror only
to see remnants of the stamp "Ready to Rock" clearly on your cheek.......the
stamp on the back of your hand has appeared on your face by what is known
as 'jagermeister magic.' You have to be to work in t-minus 14 minutes and 32
seconds and the only thing you can think of wearing is your "hello kitty"
pajamas and your slippers. Any attempt at emptying your bowels results in
a gag inducing ass spray which you are positive has the ability to etch
porcelain. The only thing that sounds worse than remaining on the foul
stench throne is leaving before you're finished; which could take 5
minutes or an hour and a half.

HOS

 

[Notty]

its funny cause its true!

~Notty

 

[Fastshow]

{}

Things That Are Difficult to Say When You're Drunk

Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

Things That Are VERY Difficult to Say When You're Drunk:

Specificity
Cogito ergo sum
British Constitution
Passive-aggressive disorder
Loquacious
Transubstantiate

Things That Are Downright IMPOSSIBLE to Say When You're
Drunk:

Thanks, but I don't want to have sex
Nope, no more booze for me
Sorry, but you're not really my type
No kebab for me, thank you
Good evening, officer, isn't it lovely out
tonight?
Post on TTP? No, I shouldn't, I might write something incomprehensible and stupid that I'll regret and end up looking like Saint.
I'm not interested in fighting you.
Oh, I just couldn't - no one wants to hear me
sing.......

 

[Saint]

That wasn’t very nice.

I don’t see why I should have to assuage my proclivity for tautological rants on TTP, but if that’s what you want, if it’ll make you feel all warm and fuzzy to see me abjure my inconsequential TTP missives, then fine. Acquiescence is my middle name…well actually it’s Harold, but we won’t tell anyone that. To be sure, 90% of my diatribes are constructed at the end of a monumental libation session, and the other 9% is the product of some very late mornings and few too many coffees. Take for example this little gem of a post. Last night I went to the fine establishment at the end of my street - I believe it is called the Pear Tree. I was partaking in couples of jars of my favourite tipple when all of a sudden it was brought to my attention that Led Zepplin, The Beatles, The Who, Bob Marley, Tom Petty and a stochastic slue of other world famous bands were all playing next door in the guise of the aptly named ‘The Scottish Monsters of Roc” - apparently a mega band in these here parts. Well, Saint, I thought to myself, let’s up and leave this fine establishment and see if said Monsters are all that and a late night Haddock Supper. So off to The Blind Poet we went. To cut a tediously long story short: They were fcuking fantastic. The lead singer, who I believe had made several trips to the Colombia prior to taking to the stage, had a polyrock voice and the drummer was wearing a big Oscar-from-the-Muppets mask. Which, for those of you who possess a certain incertitude anent Rock101, is very good indeed. Anyway, I been suckered into another fruitless post by a London dweller who told me yesterday that he’d searched the web and found a family website of one of this forum's German contingent (which if you ask me is a tad stalkish). It’s as if he doesn’t have a life at all. You’re becoming someone else I know.

Keeping in tune with the thread: I’m hungover

 

[Fastshow]

poptastic........

To cut a tediously long story short

I'm sure I'm not alone in wishing you had, Harold.

Since you made such a concerted effort, however, and, seeing as it is Thursday afternoon and Wednesday is now behind me (the only day of industry in the Great British workplace), I feel duty-bound to submit this surrejoinder to the immutible TTP mainframe. Your concoction of inimitable Edinburgh nightlife reminds me of last Tuesday when driving to football in the passenger seat of the Peugeot 405 owned by a black colleague called Petros. You couldn't make it up. Or, should I say, I couldn't. To add to my imperspicuity, Petros seemed hell-bent on listening to Spandau Ballet's pivotal 'True' at paramount amplification. This caustic decision was followed by 'Sweet Child of Mine' by Guns 'n' Roses as well as Belinda Carlisle's 'Heaven is a Place on Earth'. And there was me with my air guitar in the boot with the rest of my kit.

Needless to say, I was ready to 'kick ass' when I got out of that car though not necessarily on the football pitch. Petros had obviously made numerous sojourns into Bin Laden's poppy fields before getting behind the wheel and making his musical prelation.

I feel it also important to indigitate that, while I have heard rumours of a link which directs the surfing reveller to a thread devoted to the consanguinity of one of TTP's asperitous teutonic-types, I have no cognizance of the actual address of said website. I do, obviously, hold a somewhat benevolent attitude toward any appropinquations that may arise from your childishness and I'm sure Jinky will reciprocate.

Simply because you find it necessary to use egregious words doesn't mean frail and unsuspecting teutons are extraneous to the kind of immedicabile vulnus your posting photos of their minging missus will cause them and their loved ones. And all this so close to Christmas.

Keeping au courant with the thread: I'll be hungover tomorrow.

 

[SC]

you guys...

not only on MSN? Do I have to separate you here too?

+SCpissawayyoutwo

 

[Fastshow]

don't make me come over there........

Shouldn't you be dealing with your own troubles? Like your excessive PMS?

I thought all that stopped with the menopause........ Plus, he started it.

 

[Saint]

...

Post on TTP? No, I shouldn't, I might write something incomprehensible and stupid that I'll regret and end up looking like Saint.

Indeed.

 

[Fastshow]

...........

Going.........

 

[Fastshow]

..........

Going.........

 

[Fastshow]

..........

Gone...........

 

[Notty]

I think I just pissed myself laughing~~~~

 

[Yoda]

Too funny

Originally posted by Cainy
Fenian fcuk off, pretty funny spraying ten squirts of cologne on my back I know the ladies weren't too impressed, but you pissed your pants at subway at 3am in the morning.

Is that Fenian's twin sister by chance.


Yoda's 1000th post done while laughing his ass off. Represents 1000 times when I could have been doing something more productive.

 

[ParkHead]

Now that is FUNNY!!!


Great stuff fastshow.

 

[Notty]

I think I used this on the weekend!!!

THE BEER SCOOTER REVEALED

This story explains a lot of things. How many times have you woken up in the morning after a hard night drinking and thought 'How on earth did I get home?'

As hard as you try, you cannot piece together your return journey from the pub to your house. The answer to this puzzle is that you used a Beer Scooter. The Beer Scooter is a mythical form of transport, owned and leased to the drunk by Bacchus the Roman god of wine. Bacchus has acquired a large batch of these magical devices.

The Beer Scooter works in the following fashion: the passenger reaches a certain level of drunkenness and the "slurring gland" begins to give off a pheromone. Bacchus or one of his many sub-contractors detects this pheromone and sends down a winged Beer Scooter. The scooter scoops up the passenger and deposits them in their bedroom via a Trans-Dimensional Portal. This is not cheap to run, so a large portion of the passenger's in-pocket cash is taken as payment. This answers the second question after a night out 'How did I spend so much money? Unfortunately, Beer Scooters have a poor safety record and are thought to be responsible for over 90% of all UDI Unidentified Drinking Injuries).

An undocumented feature of the beer scooter is the destruction of time segments during the trip. The nature of Trans-Dimensional Portals dictates that time will be lost, seemingly unaccounted for.

This answers a third question after a night out 'What the hell happened? With good intentions, Bacchus opted for the REMIT (Removal of Embarrassing Moments In Time) add on, that automatically removes, in descending order, those parts in time regretted most. Unfortunately one person's REMIT is not necessarily the REMIT of another and quite often lost time is regained in discussions over a period of time.

Independent studies have also shown that Beer Goggles often cause the scooter's navigation system to malfunction thus sending the passenger to the wrong bedroom, often with horrific consequences. With recent models including a GPS, Bacchus made an investment in a scooter drive- thru chain specializing in half eaten kebabs and pizza crusts. Another question answered!!

For the family man, Beer Scooters come equipped with flowers picked from other people's garden and Thump-A-Lot boots (Patent Pending). These boots are designed in such a way that no matter how quietly you tip-toe up the stairs, you are sure to wake up your other half. Special anti-gravity springs ensure that you bump into every wall in the house and the CTSGS (Coffee Table Seeking Guidance System) explains the bruised shins.

The final add-on Bacchus saw fit to invest in for some scooters is the TAS (Tobacco Absorption System). This explains how one person can apparently get through 260 Marlboro Lights in a single night.

PS: Don't forget the on-board heater, which allows you to comfortably get home from the pub in sub-zero temperatures, wearing just a T- shirt.

 

[Fastshow]

from the office of Gordon Campbell......



Dear Alcohol,

I thought I'd take a minute to discuss some troubling factors with you. First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan
of yours...your many sides and dimensions are mind-boggling (different to beer goggling, which I'll touch upon shortly.)
Yes, my friend, you always seem to be there when needed -- the perfect post-work ****tail, a beer with the game... and you're
even around in the holidays: Hidden inside chocolates you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings. Yet lately, I've been wondering about your intentions. You see, I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, but I
feel that your influence has led to unwise consequences, briefed below for your review:

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity occurs at 5 AM.

2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal and, though cooking is far from my speciality, why you suggested that I eat a kebab
with chilli sauce coupled with a pot noodle and some stale crisps (washed down with chocolate nesquik and topped off with a Kit
Kat) is beyond me. Eclectic eater I am, but I think you went a bit too far this time.

3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me I need to do yoga more to increase my balance, I see NO need to hammer the
issue home by causing me to fall down the stairs. Completely unnecessary. Similarly, it should never take me more than 30
seconds to get the front door key into the lock.


4. Pictures: This is a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the
last point below, but the following costumes are heretofore banned from being placed on my head in public: Indian Wigs, Sombreros, Bows, Ties, Boxes, upside-down cups, inflatable balloon animals, traffic cones, bras.

5. Beer Goggles: If I think I may know him/her from somewhere, I most likely do not. PLEASE do not request that I go over and see
if in fact, I do actually know that person. This is similar to the old "Hey, you're in my class" syndrome circa 1996 at the Student Union, and should heretofore be rendered illegal. Coupled with this is the phrase "Let's shag." While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-to-mouth block that would keep this thought from being a statement, especially in public.

Further, the subsequent hangovers have GOT to stop. Now, I know a little penance for our previous evenings' debauchery may be in order, but the 2pm Hangover Immobility is completely unacceptable. I ask that if the proper steps are proactively
taken on my part (i.e. water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to bed/passing out facedown on the kitchen floor
with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be quite minimal and no way interfere with my daily Saturday or Sunday (or any day,
for that matter) activities. Come on now, it's only fair -- you do your part, I'll do mine.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our relationship for some years now, and want to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the
invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when we just don't know what to do with the extra money in our pockets. In order to continue this relationship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above
and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday at 5pm (pre happy hour) on your possible solutions and hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership. Thank you for your prompt attention to these matters.

Sincerely - The Queen Mother (deceased).

 

[Lupoman]

well done....

saw those three pics last week or so-laughed my fool head off, but naturally I was pissed and couldn't remember where I saw them. Spent an hour trying to find them again to show Mrs. Lupoman (aka swee'pea). Well I'm sober for the moment so should be able to remember where they are. Great stuff fastshow!!


lupoman