Kill Me

8-ish
I'm crawling around the house on all fours. Evil Sarcastro came to Atlanta yesterday. He killed off a 5th of Jack Daniels; I did the same on gin. I've come up with a new code phrase for getting really really drunk: Talking with Aunt B's mom.
At least my itinerary only includes vomiting and stopping my hands from shaking. Sarcastro has to go play golf with the family. If you've been reading his blog, you know what a grueling experience that will be. I pity him.
The only thing in the house that might make me feel better is orange juice, but I used it as a mixer last night after the tonic ran out. I don't think I could smell it at this stage.

Sarcastro's last words to me were blasphemy:

Exador: Were there any times when I was too much of an asshole?
Sarcastro: You were a little over the top at the mexican restaurant.
Exador: We went to a mexican restaurant?!
Sarcastro: Jesus Christ

I'm going to go throw up for a while


9:43 Update:
I am trying to force down some soup. It's one of those deals where it takes all of my will to eat, but I know I'll feel better later on. Thank God we ate last night.
I got my soup out of the microwave, got a fork out of the silverware drawer, made to the computer and it wasn't until I dipped the fork into the soup, that I had the epiphany that it's a fork.

Why does my hangover get worse as the day goes by? Shouldn't it get better. I think so.

10:07 Update
I found a picture of my Tick action figures that Sarcastro had positioned obscenely. I thought he had taken the picture, but I just got off the phone with him and he informed me that it was I that took it. Anyhoo, here it is, note the cheesy 80's mullet on the strikingly good looking lad in the photo-within-the-photo.

10:25 Update:

The soup is working. My Wolverine-like recuperative powers are saving me.

3:45 Update:

I'm a new man. I was still feeling a bit peckish, so I headed to my local tavern for beer and food. I'm back in my prime, ready to poison myself again tonight. There's still the other half of the bottle of gin. I need to get tonic.

6:45 Update

I never got tonic, so I'm making Jager bombs. Very tasty as a drink on the rocks, not a shot.
The Red Bull is giving me wings. I never got a nap in, and I'm guessing that passing out for a few hours doesn't equal restful sleep.