We want to shake things up a bit here at Zooillogix by doing a weekly readers' poll. That's right. We actually WANT to hear from you!
The question: WHAT WAS YOUR WORST HUNGOVER MORNING EVER?
Was it a walk of shame in your Halloween costume? Did a cockroach emerge from your half-eaten Boston cream pastry? Perhaps you were fired by your boss and attacked by a hammerhead shark all before sunrise?
This video was our source of inspiration...
There's another video below the fold, that's even better, (albeit unrelated to animals)...
Nice videos. ;P
Worst hungover morning ever?
Damn. Musta been after that welcome-home party this summer, for my best friend. It took me all day to remember the debaucheries I'd committed. -facepalm-
Okay I'll bite.
The worst worst has surely and blessedly been erased from my memory.
The best worst, of course, was my very first: post infamous Oberlin Inn pitchers, I endured the obligate: "stop the spinning, I want to get off" treatment..sprung out of bed at 6:00 AM surely still intoxicated, bought some analgesics from Gibson's, wandered plum creek after unfamiliar warblers, and wound up on time for class at the Lewis Center. Then the nausea set in...
I once awoke on the day after Halloween in college to the site of my roommate's father standing over the couch I was sleeping on. The room was covered in empty beer cans, and he was shaking me asking me where his son was, because his son hadn't shown up for their 9am breakfast.
Suddenly, my roommate staggered into the room from god-knows-where he had slept the night before. His father exclaimed, "What the hell is that written on your forehead?" It....was the word 'PENIS.'
I forgot to mention that my roommate's father was the head of the Council of Foreign Relations in D.C. at the time and had served as a Press Secretary under Lyndon Johnson.
Ok, so the whole thing was probably worse for my roommate than me, but still, it was pretty awkward, and I felt like hell.
I'd say the most interesting morning after I've had was after an evening of helping a friend empty her liquor cabinet before she went to Taiwan to teach ESL. Apparently (I was told - I don't remember this part) around midnight a bunch of us went to the local Gentlemen's club but I was immediately escorted back out by a bouncer because of my obvious inebriation.
So I decided to walk home (something like 10 miles). I have flashes of memory from this part, including multiple falls and occasionally wondering wtf I was thinking.
I woke up the next morning on a pile of skids behind a building on the other side of town still miles from my destination. I walked back to the house I'd been at the previous evening, walked in the door and was greeted with "Hey John, we're going skydiving today, want to come?"
I've actually had worse hangovers - even though I don't normally get them - but stories of a head pounding so badly you can hardly move or finally throwing up last night's shooters at 4:30 in the afternoon after a day of very limited mobility aren't as memorable to me.
Since the worst one I remember has only left the phrases 'Blue Curacao, nudity, house-sitting, about a dozen towels, some more nudity, chicken food, Ouzo, early arriving house-owners' without any retraceable grammatical or logical coherence in my memory, I will borrow one from a friend of mine.
He woke up from a rather heavy night next to a girl he wished he had never met. The sight of her, together with the remaining intoxication actually made him throw up. Only, he had never been to her appartment before and therefore had no idea where the bathroom was. Understanding the urgence of the matter, he wisely chose to throw up all over her TV-set. After that, he evidently did the only smart thing to do in such a situation, which was to grab his pants and shirt and simply bail. Never to be heard from again.
Not sure if it was his worst hungover morning... or hers.
that reminds me of a good one that happened to a friend of mind in college. i went to upenn which is located in scenic west philadelphia. my friend was a med school student and like many grad school students, he lived just across the river in center city about fifteen blocks away from the center of campus. on a particularly aggressive drinking night, a new friend and he returned to his apartment building in center city and fell asleep. the female friend awoke, fully nude, around 3 AM and had to use the bathroom. between her unfamiliarity with the surroundings, the pitch black and her drunken haze, she mistakenly opened and walked through the hallway door. after releazing her mistake, she immediately discovered the door to the apartment had locked behind her. ten minutes of pounding did not wake my friend, but did attract security. the less than helpful security guard had no clothes to offer her but did find her a trashbag. without any money, cell phone or numbers memorized in her head, the poor girl decided to walk through the city, back across the bridge, 15 blocks, in the middle of the night, wearing only a trashbag.
my friend returned her possessions the next day and asked her if he could take her out to dinner to make it up to her. she promptly slammed the door in his face.
Wow, I haven't too many hangover stories since I usually block those out, but I do have an amusing booze story from several years ago.
I was working a terrible job at a call center; crazy hours, crap money, no benefits, but it was all I could get with my Creative Writing degree. Anyway, I had to work until 9PM on a Sunday night, and I was supposed to try and get off early to meet my boyfriend and friends at a Wesley Willis show. Of course I couldn't get off, they went without me, and I decided to stop at a liquor store and drown my sorrows with booze and video games. I got a bottle of Jaegermeister, and the clerk remarked that he didn't often sell that to young women by themselves.
I went home, played video games and took a shot every time I lost a fight (I was playing Tao Feng on Xbox). This meant I drank half a bottle of Jaeger by myself. When my boyfriend came home he had a bad moment thinking I was dead because I was breathing so softly. Later we got word that Willis had died so I missed my one big chance to see one of his crazy live shows.
Skip ahead two weeks to Easter. My bf's family was up visiting his Grandma, and his mother decides she wants to 'cut loose' and buy some BEER! She passes out after one wine cooler and doesn't drink other than holidays, so it promised to be fun. I was still in the 'getting to know the parents' phase and already didn't get along with his father, so I was going to do my best to impress his mom. I took her to a liquor store--that was the same one I had purchased the Jaeger from 14 days before.
The guy waved at me, asked if I'd killed that whole bottle yet, and generally came across as if I'd been in there WAY more often than I had. He had many suggestions for me, all of the hard liquor variety.
The fun thing was this happened just after i'd tried to take my bf's little brother to see Spiderman, and we'd run into my best friend with her butch lesbian girlfriend, and literal crackwhore little sister.
It doesn't fit the actual criteria for the weekly poll, but I'm going to go with Jenbug so far as the winner.
Well, mine does involve critters, albeit microscopic ones. Specifically, whatever microscopic critters had colonized the altogether-too-leftover chili in the back of the fridge I decided was fine to eat as a late night snack after a 10+ hour debauch involving shots of some kind in addition to gallons of beer. (I know, I know. But alcohol does impair judgment. And my judgment was very, very impaired by that point in the evening. Morning. Whatever.)
As it turns out, combining food poisoning and a hangover is... somewhat unpleasant.
Curious fact: Did you know that it is possible to heave so hard when vomiting that one develops petechial hemorrhages? You know - the tiny burst blood vessels in the skin and eyes that are always mentioned on those popular forensic investigation shows as a sign of death by strangulation.
Yeah, I had those - and lived to tell the tale.
To be honest, I think I'd rather have woken up with an orangutan.
A priest wakes up with a terrible hungover: the celing is spinning, the head is splitting, and the bed is obviously not in his bedroom - and the worst thing, he does not remember what happened. Then he notices a tiny piece of twine coming out of the corner of his mouth. So he pulls at it a little - somethin's stuck on the other end - and then he immediately stops pulling. He closes his eyes and prays fervently: "My God, My dear God - please make it a tea bag!"
Mine is pretty tame, but in its own special way also pretty horrific. I put both contact lenses in the same eye, which just makes everything hangover-related immeasurably less pleasant. Switched to spectacles for a good year or so after, too.