So sometimes this happens when I drink.
[10:00:42 AM] Biox_: good lord hatter
[10:00:50 AM] Biox_: you have gothic punk hair for a day
[10:00:53 AM] Biox_: and you cant help yourself
[10:00:53 AM] Biox_: <3 — IT’S TRUE I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF, THE HAIR COMPELLED ME TO GET INTO A FIST FIGHT
GUESS WHO GOT INTO A DRUNKEN FIST FIGHT LAST NIGHT? This guy! My eye is a bit swollen but I think I’ll live. There are few things more entertaining than the look on someone’s face when they hit you and you start laughing. It’s like a “oh god he’s laughing he’s enjoying this I just punched a masochist and now he’s going hit me back and he’s going to do it with a boner” sort of look. XD
The Australian cat continues to try and fill the cat shaped holes in my heart. A+ for effort. And the booze certainly is helping. Also I see fragged people. QUAKE AS FUCK MOTHAFUCKA
Apparently extreme intoxication + part in Farscape when Aeryn Sun dies (even though I know she comes back) = wracking sobs. Good to know.
There are cat shaped holes in me, and this Australian cat can’t fill them, because in Australia, all cats are upside down. It doesn’t stop him from trying though, and if you do it with an Australian cat, drinking counts as bonding.
This was from the Edwardian Ball weekend before last, They had this big carousel thing set up with these crazy old bikes hooked up to it. It was loads of fun and because of the lighting and my shitty cell phone camera, you can only just barely see me ride past a few times, but if you listen closely you can hear me very drunkenly thanking the guy who I shanghaied into filming it for me at the end.
It isn’t embarrassing if you just don’t give a shit.
Previous names for the hangover:
“We didn’t always call it a hangover. English speakers once had to resort to the rarefied words crapulence and surfeit, in addition to charming euphemisms such as morning fog, gallon-distemper, bottle ache, blue-devils, jim-jams, cropsick, black dog and my personal favorite, bust-head.”
from Modern Drunkard Magazine - http://www.drunkard.com/issues/56/56-the-mourning-after.html
Seriously “Bottle ache” is my new favorite phrase ever. Never again will I use the word, “hangover”.
