So You Feel Like Death?

Yeah, I've read 'em all...every blogpost or Yahoo! article about curing hangovers...every Men's Health piece about preventing them...every mad scientist's recipe panacea for beer shits and puking up that yellow stomach fluid that I lovingly refer to as "the egg yolk." Well, guess what: I'm here to tell you that they're all wrong. This post isn't one of pretty hopes and dreams, and bells and wind chimes, and unicorns and reindeer. No, no. This isn't the post that's going to tell you to blend some fruity-tutti, rainbow-colored elixir to cure it all. And this certainly isn't the post that's going to preach science and tell you to get your immune system up and working by replenishing the vitamins and minerals you lost during your awesome night out with the guys, picking up hos and feeling different. No, no...this is coming from a man that's seen the worst of it. I've tackled the daunting 2-day hangover, I've puked and rallied countless times, pissed myself dozens of times, and I've seen half my room torn to shit from an incoherence that only Tequila can vouch for. I'd say in the 8 years I've been drinking, I've probably vomited on at least a thousand occasions. And I'm living to talk about it. Because hangovers are my specialty. With that said, let me throw a couple of truths your way, so when you're hitting the Miller Lite Vortices and the bottles like I do on a Friday, you can be better prepared to make it a full weekend of partying instead of sitting in on Saturday night and watching Land of the Lost with your 12 year-old, possibly-gay little brother, who likes Gossip Girl a liiiiiiittle too much. Needless to say, you needn't be reading this if you're a "casual drinker" who enjoys a beer with his dinner and a nice chapter of Chicken Soup for the Soul before tucking himself in bed. This is for the true partyers, those of us who know 2 a.m. is too early for the bars to close and who know all too well that color of the sky before the sun decides to poke its head on Saturday morning. Here goes:

• First and foremost, GET YOUR MINDSET RIGHT: Listen, odds are you're going to be hungover. You went out last night and you need to expect some consequences to doing Patron body-shots at that place you can't quite seem to remember with that girl who may or may not have been a 4 out of 10. Hey, if you wake up feeling like a million, more power to you, but you need to realize that this is an anomaly and doesn't quite happen often. So, get it through your head that headaches, bodyaches, a few scrapes and bruises, and some serious nausea are to come. No big deal, right? If you know and respect what's waiting for you on the flip side, you're more apt to attack it successfully.



• WAKE UP: Sure, we all need sleep. We all need our bodies to recoup, right? Well, I'm just saying once you get your 6-8 hours, get out of bed. Don't overdo the sleep. Don't feel sorry for yourself. You have a new day to take by the horns, and you don't need to be wasting it in limbo. We all know the Food Network is soothing when you're hungover, but Giada De Laurentiis' meals aren't popping through the screen anytime soon, and basking in your own stench and sorrow isn't going to get you ready for round 2 this weekend. So, get your ass up, open the shades to let the light in, and B-line straight for the bathroom because this is where some of your most crucial work will be done this morning/early afternoon.



• SIT DOWN ON THE TOILET: I'm serious, gentlemen. Take a shit. Take a mean one. Purge that system. Out with the bad, in with the good. And poop is bad in my book. And listen, even if you don't need to drop one, sit down anyway. You'll certainly be able to squeeze out a piss. I know, I know. Guys aren't supposed to be sitting down to piss. Well, screw off, retarded meathead. These are dire times, and no one needs to be aiming at this hour or in this condition. Not to mention, that trek from your bedroom to the bathroom was long and tiring. You probably fell once or twice, maybe stubbed your toe or cracked your knee, so take a load off.



• TAKE A COLD SHOWER: Get naked and get in, folks. The perks of being in the shower at this time are aplenty: First, it'll surely wake you up fully. It should give you the shock that you need to really get moving. Second, it'll bring that body temperature down. No one likes to be nauseated AND warm; it worsens the sensation tenfold. So, chillax for a bit and let the water do its work. Third, it gives you an opportunity to assess the damage: like I said..cuts, scrapes bruises...these should all come to light in the shower. So, take inventory of your injuries, if any, and go from there. If a bone's popping out, I'd suggest the hospital. If you're just a bit sore, grow a pair. And lastly, the shower gives you a solid opportunity to purge from the opposite end. Yep, I said it. Vomit already! It's not as big of a deal as most make it out to be. And at this point, you wouldn't be blowing chunks; it'd be spit and bile, and maybe, the aforementioned egg yolk if you're lucky. It'll be fine in the shower and wash right down the drain. Get the crap out like you did on the toilet and clear the system for the goods that are going to pull you from this nightmare. And this leads me to the next bullet...



• EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT: Eat whatever you can get your hands on and eat some more. Leftover buffalo chicken calzone? Eat it. Bananas in the fruit bowl? Eat 'em. Pizza rolls? Throw 'em in the oven and eat a bagel or two while you wait for the oven to do its thing. Seriously, the sloppier the food, the better. If you don't want to head to your own kitchen because your parents are down there, eat out. Grab some BK or McDonald's and go to town. Do work on a few double cheeseburgers and some fries. Wash it down with an uncarbonated beverage. No milk though. This is the first of the fuel that'll keep you going all night long again. So, be sure to get a solid foundation of grease, fat, and starch, and before you know it, that first beer of the day won't be sounding so bad.

And there you have it: your sure fire way to dig yourself from the trenches. You'll be right as rain by mid-afternoon and be on the horn with friends, trying to coerce them into hitting the town for a pregame dinner and drinks at 7. That first beer'll go down like water with dinner, and you and your buddies'll be back and better than ever at your favorite bar, doing shots with mediocre looking women. Then, that Sunday rolls around, and you've got some football to watch. And we all know football tastes best with beer. It's the vicious cycle, people. Get used to it.