Tina would have to be one of those women who can wake up after a blissful night of drinking and feel perfectly fine. The woman probably has ibuprofen coursing through her veins. I bet she can throw back shots of tequila with ease.
I, on the other hand, am the queen of hangovers. I'm not talking about the kind of hangover that results in a nagging headache. I'm talking about what seems to be mild alcohol poisoning and leaves me bedridden and throwing up all the goodness from the night before until 5 pm or so. I'm sure my liver is trying to tell me something, but unfortunately for my liver, I'm in control. He doesn't have legs or arms. Sucks for him. I do think my poor liver needs a name though. Any suggestions? And if you're thinking of naming him Chachi, you're too late. That name is already in commission for my stomach.
I suppose I saw the hangover coming anyway. I sang, I danced with a bald midget-like man, I drank a lot of beer. I karoaked 4 different songs ranging from REO Speedwagon's Keep on Loving You to Coolio's Gangsta's Paradise. What can I say? I'm versatile. I got home around 4 and I swear I crawled into bed that night, right after I cleaned up the water I spilled all over my bedroom floor. Somehow I woke up on my rec-room couch instead.
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