Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
The damage is extensive. My body is in an uproar.
It is not a hangover, per se, but rather a case of physiological distress without the headache part. Last night got ugly.
I met my old friend at the St. Regis bar, and he brought two of his co-workers with him. Me and three straight, hard drinking guys in a VERY expensive establishment. Four rounds later (mine was Maker's Mark neat), they decided that shots of Patron were called for. The bar, being an establishment such as it is, served us our Patron in nearly full champagne flutes.
Oh, lord.
My friends, I haven't been that drunk in years on years. It was shameful. We were quite well behaved, but the pack of us were wrecked. That's when I was blackmailed into going for Korean food, so off we toddled to a Korean place hidden on the third floor of a building. Now, I like kimchi, but this stuff was flamethrower consistency and magnificent. The rest of the meal? Meh. But yowza, that kimchi. I finally jumped in a cab and went home, where I was greeted by the husband with the following:
"OMG, you STINK of whiskey and garlic!"
Yes, I love you too, my sweet.
Apparently my snoring and stench was so unbearable he got up later and slept on the couch. And now, today, I am suffering a blistering array of side effects from the kimchi that I shall not go into in a family publication such as this. Suffice it to say: ow.
But you see, dear readers, I was only holding up the pride flag high. As the only man of a non-heterosexual persuasion at the event, I felt obliged to outlast and outperform those wussy heteros. And I did. They were all hurting well before me.
I can only imagine what hell their client meeting this morning was - hungover, stinking of garlic and booze, and so forth. At least I can hide a little here and communicate by email only.
That was enough drunkenness for a year. Maybe again in 2010!
It is not a hangover, per se, but rather a case of physiological distress without the headache part. Last night got ugly.
I met my old friend at the St. Regis bar, and he brought two of his co-workers with him. Me and three straight, hard drinking guys in a VERY expensive establishment. Four rounds later (mine was Maker's Mark neat), they decided that shots of Patron were called for. The bar, being an establishment such as it is, served us our Patron in nearly full champagne flutes.
Oh, lord.
My friends, I haven't been that drunk in years on years. It was shameful. We were quite well behaved, but the pack of us were wrecked. That's when I was blackmailed into going for Korean food, so off we toddled to a Korean place hidden on the third floor of a building. Now, I like kimchi, but this stuff was flamethrower consistency and magnificent. The rest of the meal? Meh. But yowza, that kimchi. I finally jumped in a cab and went home, where I was greeted by the husband with the following:
"OMG, you STINK of whiskey and garlic!"
Yes, I love you too, my sweet.
Apparently my snoring and stench was so unbearable he got up later and slept on the couch. And now, today, I am suffering a blistering array of side effects from the kimchi that I shall not go into in a family publication such as this. Suffice it to say: ow.
But you see, dear readers, I was only holding up the pride flag high. As the only man of a non-heterosexual persuasion at the event, I felt obliged to outlast and outperform those wussy heteros. And I did. They were all hurting well before me.
I can only imagine what hell their client meeting this morning was - hungover, stinking of garlic and booze, and so forth. At least I can hide a little here and communicate by email only.
That was enough drunkenness for a year. Maybe again in 2010!