Fbomb wrote:No question, the worst are the mornings when I see the clock, and I KNOW, i'm supposed to be where I'm supposed to be, and it's actually better to play dead than to show up wasted. Peeps are wondering where the fuck you ARE, man... and yre just home horizontal, cause showing up is gonna be worse than silence... hiding out, sneaking in... there's no one moment, it's a pluralistic occurrence
Jiggers McCoy wrote:I drank a growler of beer and a buncha jello shots, and had a doc appt. the next day. Got to the office, started filling out paperwork and passed out in the waiting room chair. Some old broad shook me awake cuz apparently I was snoring like a fucking chainsaw.
Hell of it was, I was seeing a dermatologist for my rosacea, or as it was called in the olden days, "Gin Blossoms."
Jiggers McCoy wrote:There are several triggers, different for every person. I was listening to the doc list things like drinking, working out, spicy food, hot weather, etc. and I'm like, "Ok, I love all those things, what can we do?"
I have a special facewash and cream, but I rarely get flareups anymore. I think it was the dry, cold winters we had where I grew up in Missouri. Don't get too many of those in Florida.
beerkegbilly wrote:As my most Cringeworthy hangover moment was as.I was working in a bar and serving beers to people after a night of drinking heavy it hurt so bad a had the day sift it started at 7:30 am to 430 pm
Negroleptic wrote:After drinking on our national holiday a few years ago, I couldn't muster the strength to leave my tiny one-room apartment for two days. I kept the curtains shut and cried like a baby from the mere thought of going outside. Anxiety struck me like a bomb each time a flashback appeared. The horror truly materialized when I found a broom I had stolen resting against the door, when memories of me gargling gutteraly like a tribal warrior, wielding the broom as if it was a war trophy as I ran screaming down the streets. Vivid memories of celebratory ritualistic vomitation and cultural insensitivity ensued. My head felt like it had imploded, and the stale taste and aroma old of shrimp, red wine and guinness burnt into my palate. I don't think I could look people in the eye for weeks.
I have this reaction when I'm hung over. I need zen-like concentration to get by. If people ask me questions or comment anything I will uncontrollably vomit everywhere.
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