Sunday Morning Conversation Between Me And My Hangover
Hangover: You think you're still twenty, when your body had the filtering capacity of a sewage treatment plant? Now at 31 you begin to feel all that shit you've put in your stomach.
Me: Quiet please, my head is pounding.
Hangover: Fool, did you think about your head last night when you were guzzling a beer after another? Look at yourself, you're as springy as a silkworm in its cocoon this morning.
Me: I'll be fine in no time, man. Tomorrow morning at 8am, exactly. Now, where is the paracetamol? And my vitamin pills? And the Maalox?