okay, well, i second John Barleycorn..
started a new job...1 week in my buddy got married, on a sunday because he's a cheap fucker or something. anyway, open bar. so the next day i wake up still drunk, go into work and pretend to do stuff for a few hours. i go outside, puke under a bridge a few times. hey, i feel a little bit better. yes, this hangover is mine. fuck you! time for some lunch.
i found a deli and ordered some soup. the waitress said "thats it?" in such a tone that i doubted myself. i'm just having soup? soothing chicken soup that will make me feel better, so i can continue my day at my brand new job? no, mrs waitress lady, i'll have the reuben.
wait, what the FUCK did i just say? sauerkraut? meat, cheese, thousand island dressing? a large part of me regrets that decision. but the asshole in me blames the waitress for not just saying "uhm, i can tell from your blood shot eyes, the sweat on your forehead, and general pale-ness that you do NOT need a reuben."
also, why the fuck did i eat the whole thing? terrible decisions. just... terrible.