James D. Casey IV

There’s nothing like the hangover shits.

Anyone that’s ever had a heavy night of

drinking and “painting the town red” knows

that in the morning you’re usually painting

the toilet brown, or in tie-dye if you were

mixing your alcohol. A foamy bubbly mess

that smells like the night before’s party and

makes you want to vomit at the thought of

having another drop of the swill, but you damn

well know there’s another drunken night just

around the bend. Especially if you’re in your

twenties. Feeling ten foot tall and bulletproof.

The older you get the more coercing it takes to

tie one on. Yet no matter how many times you

tell yourself you’ll only have a couple of drinks

you usually end up naked at three a.m. on the

living room floor trying to shovel cold breakfast

food from the local greasy spoon into your mouth

before passing out, after singing karaoke and doing

some crazy pirate shit you won’t remember when

you finally wake up the next day dehydrated with

those damn hangover shits again!