My hangover

Welcoming the new year with traditional blinding pain.

This hangover needs to be rated by its effectiveness. Wildly effective. Short sentences needed. Loud proclamations stated. I am the hangover dictator.
Things we can talk about:
How much we hate old yeller (the sun).
How much we hate drinking.
How good breakfast is.
Paddling pools
Wacky solutions to our problems
Things we can’t talk about:
Tit’s McGee (Nigella Lawson)
Old Yeller
French Toast
Hot spa’s
Memories (my slogan for this year is ‘it’s too early for memories’.
Because I am the hangover dictator, Bridget decided she was the hangover mule. We then decided she was the kind of mule that smuggled hangovers across borders. This involved getting drunk and crossing borders. We hate Old Yeller so much. Cockney rhyming slang for the sun is now Ross Geller.
Yeah, Ross Geller rides the Bridget mule to smuggle hangovers across the border.
This hangover destroys lesser hangovers and then buys them dinner. The dinner is awesome. So awesome they die. Would it be petty to say that because I was hysterical at the notion of Ross Geller rhyming slang that I slightly enjoyed myself, thus diminishing the potency of this hangover? Well screw you, that’s on the list of things we can no longer talk about.


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