Okay. Fair cop. I got battered out of my tree last night.
Apologies if I was as offensive as Pig is intimating I was. It was the Gathering and so the only time I go out to get deliberatly mullered, but Tawny Port, Jack Daniels (where the hell did that come from anyway?) and watery Stella do not mix on an empty stomach. I've had a bangin' hangover headache since 2am.
I have nobody to blame but myself. I've got those clammy post session alcohol sweats. Instant karma.
Helen found a copy of this. O'Learys, from Summerfest '91. Recognise anyone? That seems like a lifetime ago, when I was young, had hair and was a damn site more hangover-proof.
I'm gonna go sweat it out in a hot bath.