I spent all my money on whiskey and milk...
Much like all of us here, back in my student days there was one experience which put me off Famous Grouse for life. No shame in that really, it's not the best of drinks in the world.

Still, back in the dim and distant days of my first year at university, I'd bought myself a bottle to last a month. I'd mastered controlled drinking a full year before everyone else, and I was feeling pretty smug with myself. That was, until three Scouse mates of mine came round, apparently with livers of steel and bravado to match. We ended up necking the lot, along with some Glenfiddich I had stashed for special occasions, such as when the day ended with the letter y. They couldn't remember getting home and had suffered from "fuckin' banging 'eadaches" the next morning and weren't available for lectures. So far, so normal after drinking enough whiskey to floor an angry rhino.

My own tale of woe was no different. I'd woken up with a dry mouth, with the hangover monster dancing a merry little jig in my head, and he'd brought his buddies nausea and cramps to have a little party in my belly as well. I was well and truly fucked, I wasn't getting out of bed that day- leaving the room was out of the question. But, I did have milk in the fridge. Nice, ice-cold milk. That'll settle my stomach.

Yeah fucking right. What went down at the time of being utterly refreshing came back up as Satan's cottage cheese, yellow in colour and lumpier than an old feather pillow. Oddly whilst watching Open House with Gloria Hunniford. Shame I couldn't have vomited in her wrinkled old face, the hag.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Mon 11 Jan 2010, 12:25, 1 reply)

"Mlik
was a bad choice"

www.youtube.com/watch?v=APAySMepRm8
(Tinium, Tue 12 Jan 2010, 9:43, closed)