Monday, September 18, 2006


Never a terribly pleasant experience. The one I suffered on sunday morning ranked up there with the best of them. The headache was a beast. It combined the searing sharpness of having an ice pick lodged in my forehead with a low sub-bass throbbing that would occassionally change up several gears, threatening to lift the top of my head off. Overall it felt like Keith Moon had been using my cranium as a practice room. The wee dead bastard!!! Once the Ibuprofen(or 'Ibufrens' as i've heard them called) had kicked in though, all was peaceful. I pretty much spent the rest of the day in bed. I was sweating like a Kraft cheese slice left out on a formica worktop and i'm sure my room smelled like a brewery, but fuck it!!, once the agony of the headache had lifted, I felt strangely serene. This is where yr dvd collection comes in handy. I'll say no more...................... Honestly though, if that's as bad as hangovers get these days(I blame the Labour government), then I think I might just treat myself to a few more now and then. This of course was a weekend hangover. Sleepy, cosy, forgiving, fuzzy and warm............. Getting mortal on a schoolnight and going to work the next day is like a day trip to hell in comparison. Don't do it kids! p.s. No pictures tonight. BASTARDFUCKINGBLOGGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


lextc said...

my night-of cure (if you have the presence of mind to do so before passing out): 2 aspirin, 1 peice of bread, and 2 glasses of water, more if you can force yourself.

ill man said...
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ill man said...

I sometimes remember the bedtime ritual. It usually consists of water. I'll remember the paracetemol and bread thing next time.