Ever woken up with the feeling that a bus ran you over? Or a hurdle of cows. Or a dozen of bulldozers if you like. And don’t lie to me; I’m absolutely sure that everyone has experienced this kind of mornings. With the following thought as immediate result:’ oh my god, I’m never gonna drink a sip of alcohol in my entire life again’…
Well, of course I’ve had to cope with these tremendous happy feelings after a great night out myself. More often than I would like. And every time I woke up with a pounding head, a throat as dry as sandpaper and dizziness as if I spent my night in a rollercoaster in stead of my bed, I took an oath. ‘Booze is bad, stupid and self-destructive and therefore I will ban it from my life for good’… But unfortunately, I turn out to be a weak person when it comes to the sweet, adorable, colourful cocktails. These cute cocktails whisper my name when I pass by and they wink at me, I swear! And isn’t it really rude to ignore them?
Hmm, I think I’ll never learn my lesson. Or should I say, I thought I would never learn my lesson. This weekend I had a fab party which ended less fab than it started. Dear friend X. voted herself to be Queen Beer of the night and wanted to show off. At first she lived up to her title pretty convincing. But after a while she couldn’t handle the pressure and turned into a little drama queen, crying over some huge problem like not knowing where she left her keys. Boohoo, cry me a river, right?
Up till that very moment I could easily deal with the Queen’s behaviour. We dried her tears, tracked her roomy and lent the key to Queen Beer’s place. Unluckily our Queen had to bike home, so within 100 metres the Queen fell off her coach and ended up very uncomfortable, all tangled up, on the pavement. Ah well, we picked up the pieces of the Queen and drove her home on the back seat of our bikes. After assuring the Queen entered her own palace, we took off, relieved we delivered the goods safely, and went for a well-earned whopper, with extra cheese of course.
Enjoying my whopper I was disturbed by my phone. Who had the nerves? Queen Beer! Extremely upset, crying like a baby who wasn’t fed in three weeks, the Queen told me she fell. With her bum into a painting! Uhm, say what? Little miss hysteric fell backwards of the stairs and landed with her lovely behind on a painting. The result: her bum was all torn up by the glass and was madly bleeding. So yes, I ended up tweaking the little pieces of glass from Queen Beer’s behind, cleaning her bloody bum and pasting Hello Kitty bandages all over her ass…
So, all you boys and girls: be very careful with too much alcohol, you could end up bended-over with someone picking glass from your buttocks!
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