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PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2016 4:22 pm 

I'm just back from the GP. My last hangover was so bad and the depression so long lasting that I'd convinced myself I'd finally killed my liver! Unfortunately he agreed and I'm off the booze awaiting results to see how bad it is!


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2016 2:36 am 

Yesterday was shameful, I was tricked into watching the "Age of Adaline" and actually cried. Shameful behaviour.


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PostPosted: Wed Jun 22, 2016 11:36 pm 

New Years Eve, 2011 (I think).

Had been drinking solidly from Dec 23rd up until NYE, the usual christmas madness. Hadn't been back in Clare in a few months so the sauce was flowing constantly. I was in my early 20s then so could handle it no problem (or so I thought).

A few of us rented a house in Kerry for Dec 30th and 31st. Dec 30th was handy enough, cans in the house, no madness to report. NYE was a bit different. Ended up hitting the pub around 6pm after plenty of afternoon drinking. Everything was going great until someone suggested switching from pints to spirits. I have brief Videodrome-esque visions of what happened next.

Apparently down that part of the country they have a New Year's tradition where they pretend to shoot an old man, and raise a child on their shoulders as a sort of 'out with the old, in with the new' type scenario. This involved a procession through the town carrying torches and bagpipes blaring. At this stage I was so fucking warped I was convinced Lord Summerisle would be coming for me next.

Ended up passing out on the beach for a short while and then walking towards the countryside in the freezing cold, convinced I was going to die in Healy-Rae country. Eventually a passing motorist pulled up as I was lying on the side of the road, freezing, and bundled me into a green micra. I think it was one of the lads who was staying with us, but I can't be sure. I somehow got back to the house and to safety. Spent the next few days in a severe state of depression, exacerbated by my extremely overdrawn bank account. Seems the 8 days of pints hit me all at once in a horrendous maelstrom of liver/brain damage.


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PostPosted: Thu Jun 23, 2016 12:22 pm 

Slaughterday wrote:
At this stage I was so fucking warped I was convinced Lord Summerisle would be coming for me next.

:lol:


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PostPosted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 1:56 pm 

101_North wrote:
I'm just back from the GP. My last hangover was so bad and the depression so long lasting that I'd convinced myself I'd finally killed my liver! Unfortunately he agreed and I'm off the booze awaiting results to see how bad it is!


My condolences fella. I'm the tail end of two weeks off as a result of some nasty acid reflux problem that seems to be gone for now but which I'm loathe to deal with again, so I had the odd one or two while were away last weekend and I'm back to staying off it til the end of the month


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PostPosted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 7:46 pm 

Five shites so far today (and counting) and a inverted T shaped scrape on my forehead from where I demonstrated my badass kung fu skills on some wooden planks last night...


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PostPosted: Sun Aug 14, 2016 9:14 pm 

Started going to the gym when I'm hungover. Few weights to get the sweat going and then into the sauna. It really works wonders, feel grand afterwards.

Wank after too.


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PostPosted: Mon Aug 15, 2016 10:20 am 

I dunno how people are even fit to leave the house when they're hungover, let alone go to the gym.

A day spent in the wank chariot is about all I can muster.


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PostPosted: Tue Aug 16, 2016 2:20 pm 

I went over with a mate to see Manowar in Munich, back in 2006 or 2007. Started with the breakfast pints in the airport at about 7 in the morning, another few cans on the plane, then went straight on to the Hoffbrau House when we landed. Hadn’t booked anywhere to stay so after a few steins we figured we should see about a hostel, ended up finding one with a bar in it doing €1 Jager shots, couple of those and on to the gig, fairly well on at this point, don’t remember much of the gig, woke up the next day with my phone missing and getting absolutely filthy looks from the staff in the hostel. I still have no idea what happened.

The flight home wasn’t until 8 that evening so we went back out on the beers to recover and ended up missing the thing, either because we were late or too locked to be allowed on, not sure which. Went around a few of the service desks asking about flights back to Dublin and they were all costing over €700 each, not a fucking hope of paying that, so I had the genius idea of flying to London because they were only about €200 and London is much closer to home than Munich.

After finishing the last few cans and getting some sleep in the airport, got on the flight to Stansted, starting to sober up and realising what a fucking stupid idea it was. At this point the fear started to kick in bad and I was convinced the plane was going to crash, absolutely sure of it. Hit a bit of bad turbulence and I’m close to a full on panic attack while my mate is trying to calm me down because he thinks if I start going on about crashing I’ll be arrested as soon as we land. Absolutely fucking horrible flight, but make it to Stansted alive. It’s at this point I realise I’ve only got about €50 left in my account and don’t have the money to make it back to Dublin, so I had to ring my missus and get her to book us flights home, which she does…from Heathrow. Fucking mad dash across the city to make it which we just about barely do, and spend most of that flight getting violently sick in the toilet.

By the time I finally got home I just crawled into bed and didn’t get out for about two days, felt absolutely disgusted with myself.


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PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 8:36 am 

I've said it before and I'll say it again. There is nothing worse than the utter sense of dread taking a flight while hungover. I don't drink on the last night of trips away anymore.


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PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 10:00 am 

:lol: What an awful story, man I feel for you.


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PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 12:23 pm 

At least he didn't remember much of Manowar :lol:


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PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 1:29 pm 

I was at that gig too and it was one of the best gigs of my life!


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PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 9:58 pm 

TemplarOfSteel wrote:
Started going to the gym when I'm hungover. Few weights to get the sweat going and then into the sauna. It really works wonders, feel grand afterwards.

Wank after too.


:twisted: In the sauna??? :twisted:


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PostPosted: Fri Aug 19, 2016 10:37 am 

Several occasions spring to mind, but the standout one would be the Cheap Death incident.

Cheap Death was my name for a cocktail I made in my first year at uni when experimenting with alcohol. To make it, I got a pint glass. Put four shots of standard vodka in the bottom of it. Next, filled it up to the brim with White Lightning cider.

I was at a friend's room on campus when I started drinking my first pint of Cheap Death. I remember having a second pint of it. After that I don't remember anything but apparently I made a third pint with even more vodka in and drank that too.

At some point on my journey back across campus to my room I bought a double vodka and red bull from a student bar, wandered outside with it and got annoyed I was spilling it so threw it against a wall. The next thing I remember is briefly getting into my own bed.

I woke the next morning with the worst hangover I've ever experienced. It was terrible. I get bad hangovers but this one was just unbearable. I could not work out why there was a strong smell of vomit in my room. I checked the basin near my bed but it was empty. Then I looked under the pile of clothes on my floor and saw a large spray of sick across the carpet. At this sight I began dry heaving in the basin as there wasn't anything left to throw up. This was agonising. I noticed that I had dried sick in my hair.

I went into the kitchen and got asked if I was OK. After replying in the negative, some people filled me in on events. Apparently I'd come back on the corridor drunk and behaving in a violent manner. I could be heard coming up the stair well, shouting apocalyptic obsceneties. Everyone on the corridor locked their doors which was just as well as I apparently started hammering on them yelling abuse. Eventually the two biggest guys on the corridor manhandled me into my room while I tried to start a fight with them. Then I must have passed out on the floor, been sick while unconscious, woken up briefly and got into bed.

After being told all this I went back to my room and had about four mouthfuls of water. It came back up within half an hour. I was nil by mouth for most of the day because I felt so awful. The smell of sick didn't quite leave the room even after it had been cleaned up, and the hangover didn't clear until half way through the following day.


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