HANGOVER RATING SYSTEM
1 Star Hang-Over *
No pain. No real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and
when you woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you.
You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored
up from all those vodka Red Bulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles
of water and still feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians
are craving a Cheeseburger and side of fries.
2 Star Hang-Over **
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but
you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler. The
coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your
rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.
Although you have a nice demeanour about the
office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all
you really can handle is some light filing, followed by aimlessly
surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.
3 Star Hang-Over ***
Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space
cadet and not so productive. Anytime a girl or lad walks by you
gag because her perfume/aftershave reminds you of the random gin
shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked
you out at 3:45 a.m.
Life would be better right now if you were in
your bed with a dozen doughnuts and a litre of coke watching daytime
TV. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls
and a litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.
4 Star Hang-Over ****
You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't
speak too quickly or else you might spew. Your boss has already
lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking
of booze. You wore nice clothes, but you smell of 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 riding the
dodgems depending on your gender).
Your teeth have their own individual 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 home time, a doughnut
and somewhere to be alone or a time machine so you could go back
and NOT have gone out the night before. You scare small children
in the street just by walking past them.
5 Star Hang-Over *****
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying
the employee who sits next to you. Vodka vapour is seeping out of
every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust
in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body
has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating
you. You'd cry but that would take the last of the moisture left
in your body.
Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss
doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your
dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called
in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe...
6 Star Hang-Over ******
You arrive home and climb into bed. Sleep comes instantly, as you
were fighting it all the way home in the taxi. You get about 2 hours
sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice
that you bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly
around the room. No matter what you do you now, you're going to
chuck. You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in
a yacht under full sail.
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 walrus
mating calls. 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 walrus noises, spitting, and farting.
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 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. Work is not an
option. The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might
make you sick again, like moving. You vow never to touch a drop
again and who knows for the next two or three hours at least you
might even succeed.