Where NOT to be hung over

[Two Martini Breakfast]

Shopping for speakers with your mom and little sister at 10 AM at Best Buy.

[drunkiejohn]

10 AM at Best Buy

I thought I was going to die in a Best Buy once.

The day of my 30th birthday came the night after I spent about 10 hours hanging with my brother and his Navy shipyard worker buddies slamming round after round of a drink they had christened "The Wifebeater" -- Jaegerneister, 151, and vodka.

I came to on a couch at my parents house at around 9 am, which was good because I was crashing at my folks' place for Thanksgiving. What wasn't good was that I only woke up because my Dad was kicking the couch and saying, "Let's go. We've got to pick up your sister's freezer."

The freezer was at Best Buy. The loud music, bright lights, narrow aisles, large crowd, and -- I swear -- some poor schmoe walking around in a foam BB pricetag mascot suit almost made me have a pschotic break.

[Two Martini Breakfast]

This was in my freshman year of college, mere weeks in, Family Weekend, no less. It would be until about halfway through Sophomore year before I could confidently call myself a drunkard in the public party realm and take all risks, rewards, and dares incumbent thereof.

My roommate was from the Republic of Georgia and was a rugby player. Big guy. Hell of fun. Great guy for chilling and watching movies completely undrunk, and he had family labels of vodka and wine.

So we go over and take his two unconfiscated vodka bottles (my Freshman RA was a by-the-book dick) and head over to his Bulgarian friend's apartment with our Bosnian friend, Dyan, in tow -- you see, I lived in the international dorm freshman year.

We get there and the vodka is gone in minutes, both bottles and the Bulgarian chap had two of his own. This was pretty early on, so we said, "Hey, why not hit up this party we know about in the off-campus, on-campus apartments? But there might not be much to drink." So in preperation we each shotgunned two beers, had three more shots -- maybe it was vodka, I'm not sure, but it was clear -- and headed over.

Well, they did have stuff to drink, but the last thing I remember is falling over on a curb. Little inexperienced me drank all of that in about 90 minutes with a Georgian rugby player and his two pro drinker friends.

Next day, the phone rings at 9 AM. And as it is said, now you know the rest of the story.

[Bundy]

where not be be hung over?

in the middle of a concrete car park on one of the hottest days of the year in humid polluted Bangkok trying to set up a merchandising booth for a 50 Cent concert.

Complete with the dodgy guts that go with it, and your only outlet are portapottys that are essentially turd saunas. with no toilet paper

that was a day that a hangover made me cry.... with sheer joy when the Singha beer tents opened..

imagine, out in the sun, soaking wet with sweat that wont dry, watching gorgeous thai women walk past you and either wrinkle their noses in disgust at you booze and churning bowels scent, or giggle at your obvious physical discomfort, realising you've left your 3 litres of mineral water back at the hotel. lugging cardboard boxes around that start to disingrate where they've come into contact with your corrosive perspiration. From 11am till sundown.

That first, crisp, ice cold beer was simply nectar. i was whimpering as i tried to get it down my throat as fast as possible. Five more and a joint later? PAH!!! i laugh at hangovers, that was nothing, i have beaten the beast, i have stared the creature in its bloodshot eye and felt its sour breath upon my cheek, i fear it not!

[Two Martini Breakfast]

Damn

[Da Raider]

My buddy owns a little plot of undeveloped land out in the high desert in So Cal. We would spend weekends out there camping. The only things that can be done there are: Drink, shoot guns, ride dirtbikes, play horseshoes and drink. Oh and did I mention drink? Anyway, after a long day and night of drinking anything and everything imaginable, there is nothing like waking up in the bed of your pickup truck on a 115 degree day with a wicked hangover in the desert.

[****]

chuck e. cheese.

[happydrunk]

chuck e. cheese.

lol. I'm scared to go into that place undrunk! (much less hungover)

[Slim]

One evening over a box of wine I felt it was quite necessary to black out and throw one misguided punch at buddy. After connecting with the garage door I rolled my ankle, snapping a ligament or two for good measure. Four hours later I awoke to horror of a devastating hangover and what appeared to be a grapefruit in my right ankle. The best part was that I had a algebra fina to take. After sweating, shaking, tilting, and nearly fainting through the final I made my way to the nearest bathroom to exorcise the alka-seltzer "morning relief" I had foolishly thought would be my salvation.

[Two Martini Breakfast]

How'd you do on the test?

[Slim]

A solid C+. Somewhat disappointing considering I took the SATs hungover/still drunk and got a 1250. I never did have a head for numbers.

[Two Martini Breakfast]

Ah, my roomie was in your situation and got a 90/100. He had shakes somewhat fierce, was an hour late, and dismissed himself to dry heave (there was nothing to vomit, you see) three times.

[twentysevenshots]

anywhere in vegas except the double down. at least when you manage to seperate your head from the movie theatre floor like bar they just open another PBR for you.

[Slim]

Ah, my roomie was in your situation and got a 90/100. He had shakes somewhat fierce, was an hour late, and dismissed himself to dry heave (there was nothing to vomit, you see) three times.

He's brighter than I. Love the UCB quote btw.

[danger awesome]

3 hours of rock-hard physics/maths lectures, 9am to noon, 5 people each side of you, dead in the middle of the seating, no air conditioning, hot summer's day. I wrote half a side of notes (compared with the usual 5/6 sides AN HOUR) and spent the entire 3 hours sweating like something that sweats a whole lot, thinking 'don't be sick don't be sick don't be sick'.