If I close my eyes it will all go away. No, no... now I'm in pain AND blind.

I can tell I'm getting old.

The subtle sign, (well I say subtle, it's actually about as subtle as when a train smashes through the front of your living room with "We don't like your house" written in big letters all over it and a huge tenor singing the same in the driver's seat.) that shows me this is the morning after a night out. Now, due to the fact that I'm a boring sod and prefer a good old night in talking to some close friends to the banging your head against a brick wall, whilst ripping your vocal chords out in an attempt to talk to someone that is clubbing, this doesn't happen very often. However, when it does there's a horrible consequence to it. It's that waking up and thinking 'Oh wow... I don't have a hangover, I'm going to live! I'm going to live! Praise be! I'm ALIVE!'

Oh, the sneaky bastard.

Mr. Hangover, at this point, is sitting at the back of your head, chuckling relentlessly at the dramatic irony. It's like a candid camera skit. "He's lying there, thinking he's gotten away with last night, due to that pint of water he had before bed. What he doesn't know, is we've dumped a kilo of what seems to be horse manure in his head, and as soon as he moves, he's going to feel it."

So, like an idiot. I move. See, the clever thing to do in such a situation, is stay absolutely perfectly still. The hangover cannot begin until you move. No-one ever does this though, because we're all stupid and secondly Mr. Hangover is clever enough to use that pint of water against you, with the aid of his friend Mother Nature and her miraculous telephone.

The result of such movement can be defined as 'the world is trying to eat my head, whilst trying to empty the contents of my stomach'. And, as with when the whole world has turned against you in such a way, there is no known cure. Anyone who tells you they know a surefire hangover cure is a liar. Or a madman. Or still drunk. It's like a prison sentence, you do your time, think about what you've done and pray for an early release. Don't try to cure it, just enjoy it. I mean, who doesn't like a good headache now and then to remind you you're alive? (Although, technically, when you have a hangover, you're not living. Hangover comes from the latin word 'hangovus' which translates as 'oh shit, I'm dead'.)

Nevermind. I'm sure we'll learn from this the next time we go out and won't get so drunk because of it. Either that or like a prison sentence we'll become hardened and we'll get so blind drunk that we won't remember anything about the lessons we've learnt today.

I think the first option, but this six pack of Fosters at my side says differently.

Bobbikk