Today in F-You Nature: Hangovers
When I was in my senior year of high school I moved into my best friend Nathan’s house, because my stepdad and I didn’t get along. By “didn’t get along” I mean, he was a twat constantly, and I got to the point where I was seriously contemplating garroting that motherfucker with my shoelace. I decided that it was better for his health and my relationship with my mom if I just moved out. It was probably also better for my anal virginity, as my ass would’ve no doubt been used as the target for some 400lb inmates bent, freckled flesh battering ram. Anyways, I saved my butthole, but ruined my liver, because after moving in with Nathan, I had a lot more opportunities to drink heavily, which I did. One drunken night, Nathan invited an insane, anorexic bitch named Kayce to our place. I still don’t know why, but she was obsessed with me. Not the cute, shy, yearn-for-you-from-afar kind of obsessed. The kind where she tried to run my sister over with her moms fucking minivan because she thought my sister was my girlfriend or something horrifying like that. (My sister and I were walking down the street near our house, and she and I look nothing alike) So naturally, I drunkenly figured that, in order to avoid being raped and then sacrificed to some fucking emo girls weeping god -which is probably actually just the lead singer of the shithead band, Silverchair- I would lock myself in the bathroom.
My plan worked, because I woke up laying facedown on the floor like a champ with no signs of rape or stab wounds. I crawled from the bathroom to my bed and passed out again. I woke up a few hours later with the worst hangover I ever had – or so I thought. The room was spinning, my mouth was as dry as Courtney Love’s used up, rotten vagina, my head was pounding…the only thing in this world I wanted was water, but I couldn’t move to get it. I looked up, and saw that there was a God and He loved me – the day before I had been drinking tap water out of an empty apple juice bottle. (Not because I was drunk and stupid, but because I was broke and thirsty) I grabbed the bottle and started chugging the water, happier than a homo on Penis Day. I realized that the water tasted funny, but didn’t give a shit at the time, because I was so thirsty. I looked at the bottle and saw a bunch of black squiggly lines all over it. Still didn’t care, kept drinking. Suddenly, Nathan yells from the other room, “Dude, don’t drink the water next to your bed, I peed in there.” God. Dammit. I look closer at the lines on the bottle and realize that they were the scrawlings of a drunk man, and they weren’t random lines – the bottle said “pee” all over it. That was when my hangover was magnified by about 2000%. I puked EVERYWHERE. For hours. Jesus Christ, just writing about this horrible occurance in my life makes me want to puke. And punch Nathan in the taint for leaving that goddamn water bottle next to my bed. And punch apples and apple juice and apple juice manufacturers for existing. Fuck.
Drinking piss aside, hangovers suck in general. And I understand they’re completely preventable by not drinking alcohol, but what fun is that? Humans slapped nature in her balls by creating something amazing out of rotten food -alcohol- and nature had to tamper with it by making our bodies unable to effectively process it. WHY MAKE BEER SO DELICIOUS IF I CAN’T DRINK IT WITHOUT BAD THINGS HAPPENING TO ME? I don’t care about the brain cells I may or may not be losing, or the dude-rape that might happen at that frat party I crash, but I do care that in 8 hours when I wake up after drinking way too much, I can’t see out of my right eye, my head is pounding, I can’t feel my dick, I’m crying blood and I’m vomiting profusely. But, as any badass human does, I drink anyways just to spite that whore Nature. Basically, a hangover is the combination of being dehydrated, alcohol eating through your stomach lining, and your liver acting like a little bitch and not being able to produce enough liver-junk, which causes your glucose levels to diminish. Your brain runs on glucose, and without it you’re dizzy and stupid. Something like that. My friend Lindsay explained it to me once, and she is a nurse and a genius, so I’m inclined to believe everything she tells me about everything ever.
The only hangover worth a damn is the first “Hangover” movie. I haven’t seen the second one, so I can’t comment on it, but I heard mixed things about it. But the first…That shit was hilarious. Especially when baby Carlos was jackin’ his little wenis. And other stuff. Tigers. Goddamn, I need a beer.
Fuck you, nature.