A few months ago, I got a package containing four bottles of Never Too Hungover, one of those hangover remedies that you're supposed to drink the night before and another you're supposed to take the next day. I pounded beers as if I were rushing a fraternity with the knowledge that I'd be immune from the physical consequences. But I was not safe. I felt as headachey and as vomitey as usual the next day. And I'm happy that I did.
Tagged With hangovers
Hangovers only exist because it keeps us from partying and drinking and going nuts every single night. It's a fail-safe for humans so we don't all devolve into skinny blonde mid-twenties actresses at once. It's payment for fun. It sucks. But what's the real science behind it? It all boils down to three things.
Drinking makes for awesome nights but terrible mornings. Why? Because alcohol evaporating from your body makes your throat feel forever in need of water, your brain's wrinkles feel non-existent and your life being questioned by yourself because of your own drunk decisions. Hangovers, man. What do you do to cure a hangover? Drink more? Eat pho? Anything bacon? This infographic shows what different countries do to cure a hangover.
Oof, my head. The trouble with being a weekend warrior is the day after. This morning I have a troupe of miniature MC Hammers inside my head, stomping in perfect time to the pile-driver thump, and chanting: "STOP! Hangover time!" Kingsley Amis best put the feeling into words in his novel Lucky Jim. "His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum." Oral hygiene aside, my brain has shrunk to the size of a frozen pea, and I can feel it rattling around inside my head like *ponders myopically* God, I don't know what. I'm HUNGOVER for God's sake. Is there a gadget that can help me? Or am I going to have to build one myself?