Woke up in my university bed (too much booze at uni!)
in a rather hazy state. My head was hanging off the edge of the bed, into the bin. Quite a bit of vomit surrounding the area, and a bit of blood, too (this was my stomach lining making a bid for freedom). Eventually got up, in a rather unsteady manner. Luckily, my room was next to the toilets. Stand in front of the bowl, nob in hand, thinking *something should be happening*. Yes, I had forgotten how to piss (even though this defies all knowledge regarding the operation of the human bladder)! After entering some kind of zen state, I managed to relieve myself. Staggered back to my room to wash my hands, looked in the mirror and find I have a beard and ciggy drawn on my face in blue felt pen. Also notice the word TWAT (written backwards for mirror observation) across my forehead.
*How do I remove this?!* Go seek help from flatmates who suggest nail polish remover. *Good idea* says I, heading for the shower having acquired a bottle of said thinner. Proceed to wash my face in nail polish remover - this stings a bit, the smell makes me want to throw-up (not likely as my entire stomach contents are still in my room) and isn't very successfull in removing the ink. Return to room and find soap far more useful, so feel like I've earned the word TWAT.

Was later informed that I narrowly escaped having my eyebrows shaved, shown lovely pictures of unconcious me wearing my traffic cone (I was a student, of course I had a traffic cone in my room!), and was told that everyone was quite disturbed by a) the blood that I started vomiting and b) the giant jar of vaseline (not to mention the pump for dispensing prescription moisturiser!) at my bedside! I had been dragged to bed sometime after I lost the ability to see anything (which is just about where my memory fails me of that day).

It was sometime in the late evening that I managed to clean my bed and eat something...

Please note, I am not proud of any of this! I did go through a similar experience in the following week, but I now can't even stand the smell from a bottle of Malibu, let alone drink the stuff. On the plus side, I found myself immune to hangovers for the next 3 years...

[edit: just remembered that I once persuaded a university bus driver to stop so I could take a piss out of the doors. The other passengers weren't quite so understanding! I don't drink like I used to.]
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 9:52, Reply)