The hangover from the three bloody mary's at brunch digs in its claws just as I'm about to eat dinner: a brutal headache, cramping nausea chewing up my guts, sinking certainty I'm gonna die. I realize that I may never have had a hangover up to this point in my life - that this, this shattering, disabling shitstorm in my body, is what everybody's always bitching about, and what my formerly quicksilver metabolism and rockstar liver have kept me from ever experiencing.
It certainly explains why this previous entry sucked so desperately. God, what was I thinking?
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