I really shouldn’t post this up on my internet, but … ah shur fuck it. For your information, I present my Hangover Rating System:
Hangover Star rating system:
1 star hangover *
- feel a small bit groggy, but can get up at the usual weekday hour and do a normal day’s work
- when people ask, you say ‘oh yeah I was out last night, mental!’ and pretend to feel worse than you are, but you’re actually grand and thinking about your next session already.
2 star hangover **
- feel groggy and tired and consider sleeping in but don’t. Grumble but feel better after a shower and breakfast
- if no-one knows, they might not notice. In fact, you regret going home early and think you should’ve had a few more.
3 star hangover ***
- feel groggy, tired and dehydrated and skip breakfast in favour of a small lie-in. A Powerade or Lucozade may be necessary. This one won’t lift til after lunch.
- people will notice. You will say ‘ah yeah not too bad really’ and wish they would fuck off. You remember enjoying the last drink, and contemplate the cruelty of Ireland’s licensing laws.
4 star hangover ****
- groggy, tired, dehydrated and headachy. You sleep in by at least a half an hour. You can get up, but it’d be best if you didn’t.
- You get odd looks in the street but are too jaked to really notice. By venturing outside of the house you are putting lives and property at risk. Even after showering you still smell of drink. The bulk of your thoughts are fundamentally based on ’something wet’, be it a facecloth, ice-cream, a can of Coke or even the sea – just refreshment from the godawful reality of the hangover.
5 star hangover *****
- Sleeping til late afternoon, you roll around trying to push yourself back into the warm fuzzy buzz of drunkenness; however, you ultimtately fail, because of the brickwall migraine across your temples.
- Then you start getting paranoid and your tummy starts to rumble as you sober up. You vaguely recollect being ‘ill’ the night before. If you’re lucky you might be able to take advantage of that narrow window of opportunity between the evaporation of tipsiness and onset of the hangover to take some aspirin or food. Otherwise you will crash and burn on a park bench somewhere, from which you are unlikely to rise, unless disturbed by rapscallion magpies.
6 star hangover ******
- When you wake up you are confused and drunk, perhaps still half-dressed and in the wrong house. This is the faux-hangover: where you feel ‘great!’ because you drank enough for two days, but you do get double the hangover, which will only kick in at midday.
- Obviously you can’t contemplate eating and it’s just as well you can’t leave the house because you still smell of puke from the night before. You have lost something important, and I don’t mean self-respect, because if you have any of that left, you soon vomit it out, a few times. You would choose an hour of buggery over another minute of this.
7 star hangover *******
- Wherever you find yourself, you recognise little of your environment, and in the middle of an angry conversation, and wearing someone else’s shoe, unsurprisingly on the wrong foot. As soon as you wake, you wish you had left your head on the floor, but you can’t, because your immediate impulse is to puke.
- It is a vain hope though, because there’s nothing left to eject, and you spend the rest of the day hiccuping and trying to fix your phone and find your wallet. In such a state, you find that the one thing which cured you of all previous hangovers, be it solpadine, port, sausages or pron, fails miserably. Crawling into a suitcase somewhere under the stairs, you emerge after a minimum of twenty-four hours soliltude with the humility of a saint and a thirst that would kill a camel. And you will never drink again, right?
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