Woodsy
04-15-2002, 06:42 AM
I butchered this out of what's left of my memory and several humorous e-mails. I was told
that I should post this on Donzi.net so as to warn people not to fall into the trap like I did..
6 Degrees of Hanging with the Winni Bandits.....
1 star hangover * (1-2 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your slept in your own bed and when
you woke up their were no marker bouys in there with you. You are still
able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from those 2-3
vodka redbulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still
feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians are craving a cheeseburger
and a side of fries.
2 star hangover * * (2-3 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you
have the attention span and mental capacity of a Baja owner. The 3 gallons
of black coffee you chugged to try and remain focused mixes really well with
the fuzzy green leftovers you ate with your hands the night before. Yet you still
cannot get rid of the taste of the 6 pack of Bud you chugged the night before.
Although you have a nice demeanor about the house, you are in reality only
capable of light work followed by followed by aimlessly surfing the net and
posting what you can remember of the night before on Donzi.net
3 star hangover * * * (3-4 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and
not very motivated. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume
reminds you of the random Jagermeister shots you did with your alleged
"friends" after the bouncer kicked you out of the Paradise Club at 1:45 a.m.
Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen doughnuts
and a litre of diet coke watching Jerry Springer. The losers on that show
make you feel better about your indescretions the night before. You've had
6 cups of black coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of
diet coke yet you haven't peed once. You think you might be part camel.
4 star hangover * * * * (4-5 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak
too quickly or else you might spew. Your signifigant other has already
lambasted you for being useless and reeking of booze. You wore nice
clothes, but you smell like used gym socks, and you can't hide the fact
that you either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving or it looks like you
put your make-up on while crossing the Broads during the Winni Poker Run.
(depending on your gender). Your teeth have their own individual wool
sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you
look like a reject from the second-grade class picture circa 1976. You
would give a weeks pay for one of the following... a doughnut and somewhere
to be alone, or a time machine so you could go back and NOT have had those
6 Tequila Slammers and danced on the bar.... in your underwear.... waving a
Donzi flag....
5 star hangover * * * * * (5-6 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying
the dog. Jagermeister vapour is seeping out of every pore and making
you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth
from repeatedly brushing your teeth like an obsessive/ compulsive. Your
body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating
you. You need to shave your tongue, and you wonder if your MACH 3 is
up to the task. You'd cry but that would take the last of the moisture left
in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. You are eating Advil like
they are M&M's. Your spouse has theatened to leave you if you EVER hang
out with those people again. Let's face it, all you can manage to do is
breathe.. very, very gently.
6 star hangover * * * * * * (6+ Hours Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You arrive home and climb into bed, at least you think its your home,
but you don't really care either way. Sleep comes instantly, as you were
fighting it all the way home in the taxi... it was a taxi wasn't it? You get
about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice
that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around
the room. No matter what you do you know you're going to chuck. You
stumble out of bed and find that your room is bobbing like the SS Minnow
in the Broads during the 3 hour tour.... After walking along the skirting
boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet.
If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously
explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of an
elephant's mating call. You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling
the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to
make the elephant noises, spitting, and farting. (until farting turns solid).
Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived. Tears stream
down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse
and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark.
With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died
back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent. You are
convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that
you saw your tonsils projectile out your mouth on the last occasion.
It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the
day as you try to climb into bed. She/He abuses you again for trying
to get into bed with a Jegermeister label still glued to your forehead and
lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair. You reluctantly accept their advice
and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital. The
water hitting your head in the shower hurts like hell, the soap makes you gag.
The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again,
like moving, You vow never to go out with the Winni Bandits again. You swear
you will make the 'Fancy pay for your liver transplant. You promise anyone
who will listen (mainly yourself because you are the only one that is listening)
that you will never, EVER drink again. Who knows for the next two or three
hours at least you might even succeed... until the phone rings...
and its the Winni Bandits... heading out for another good time....
Consider yourselves forewarned....
Woodsy
:D :D
that I should post this on Donzi.net so as to warn people not to fall into the trap like I did..
6 Degrees of Hanging with the Winni Bandits.....
1 star hangover * (1-2 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your slept in your own bed and when
you woke up their were no marker bouys in there with you. You are still
able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from those 2-3
vodka redbulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still
feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians are craving a cheeseburger
and a side of fries.
2 star hangover * * (2-3 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you
have the attention span and mental capacity of a Baja owner. The 3 gallons
of black coffee you chugged to try and remain focused mixes really well with
the fuzzy green leftovers you ate with your hands the night before. Yet you still
cannot get rid of the taste of the 6 pack of Bud you chugged the night before.
Although you have a nice demeanor about the house, you are in reality only
capable of light work followed by followed by aimlessly surfing the net and
posting what you can remember of the night before on Donzi.net
3 star hangover * * * (3-4 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and
not very motivated. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume
reminds you of the random Jagermeister shots you did with your alleged
"friends" after the bouncer kicked you out of the Paradise Club at 1:45 a.m.
Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen doughnuts
and a litre of diet coke watching Jerry Springer. The losers on that show
make you feel better about your indescretions the night before. You've had
6 cups of black coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of
diet coke yet you haven't peed once. You think you might be part camel.
4 star hangover * * * * (4-5 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak
too quickly or else you might spew. Your signifigant other has already
lambasted you for being useless and reeking of booze. You wore nice
clothes, but you smell like used gym socks, and you can't hide the fact
that you either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving or it looks like you
put your make-up on while crossing the Broads during the Winni Poker Run.
(depending on your gender). Your teeth have their own individual wool
sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you
look like a reject from the second-grade class picture circa 1976. You
would give a weeks pay for one of the following... a doughnut and somewhere
to be alone, or a time machine so you could go back and NOT have had those
6 Tequila Slammers and danced on the bar.... in your underwear.... waving a
Donzi flag....
5 star hangover * * * * * (5-6 Hour Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying
the dog. Jagermeister vapour is seeping out of every pore and making
you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth
from repeatedly brushing your teeth like an obsessive/ compulsive. Your
body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating
you. You need to shave your tongue, and you wonder if your MACH 3 is
up to the task. You'd cry but that would take the last of the moisture left
in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. You are eating Advil like
they are M&M's. Your spouse has theatened to leave you if you EVER hang
out with those people again. Let's face it, all you can manage to do is
breathe.. very, very gently.
6 star hangover * * * * * * (6+ Hours Exposure to the Winni Bandits)
You arrive home and climb into bed, at least you think its your home,
but you don't really care either way. Sleep comes instantly, as you were
fighting it all the way home in the taxi... it was a taxi wasn't it? You get
about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice
that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around
the room. No matter what you do you know you're going to chuck. You
stumble out of bed and find that your room is bobbing like the SS Minnow
in the Broads during the 3 hour tour.... After walking along the skirting
boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet.
If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously
explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of an
elephant's mating call. You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling
the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to
make the elephant noises, spitting, and farting. (until farting turns solid).
Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived. Tears stream
down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse
and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark.
With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died
back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent. You are
convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that
you saw your tonsils projectile out your mouth on the last occasion.
It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the
day as you try to climb into bed. She/He abuses you again for trying
to get into bed with a Jegermeister label still glued to your forehead and
lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair. You reluctantly accept their advice
and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital. The
water hitting your head in the shower hurts like hell, the soap makes you gag.
The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again,
like moving, You vow never to go out with the Winni Bandits again. You swear
you will make the 'Fancy pay for your liver transplant. You promise anyone
who will listen (mainly yourself because you are the only one that is listening)
that you will never, EVER drink again. Who knows for the next two or three
hours at least you might even succeed... until the phone rings...
and its the Winni Bandits... heading out for another good time....
Consider yourselves forewarned....
Woodsy
:D :D