Friday, July 18, 2008

Drinking to Stomach Hurling

Last rainy Wednesday night, after I had dinner with Mitch and insisted that he should stay at home and rest, I went to AJ's and formed a consensus there with Ian, Bags and Nikkon. It was decided after a couple of Tetris PS games and Pusoy that we were to haul our butts to Central Better Living to hang out, which just means we are to drink. Uh-oh, for someone who's not really used to drinking, a couple of good shots would definitely leave me zapped. Well these friends of mine know what they're getting themselves into, when they're with me that is.

We ordered the usual blue green drink and relied on various conversations about the cruelties of specific species of mankind. Most if them unfortunately are exhibited by the female characters we know existed, but never thought we'd come across in this lifetime. Poor unfortunate souls. We offered some toasts to them...out of pity.

After we finished two and a half tumblers, I felt my stomach hurl and my focus swirling. It didn't help the fact that I was requested to report to the office the following morning and my whole Thursday was such a stomach battle. I'm quite aware of hangovers, but I never thought I would suffer from an upset stomach. I'm just trying to think this is the lesser evil.

In the afternoon, trudging my ass to Fort, Mitch and I had a sort of fired up discussion about something and witnessed the remains of a stupid car collission wreck at a Boni High Street. Good thing no one was hurt, only wrecked cars. Hand in hand we made a healthy agreement after browsing some photography books in Fully Booked and capped it off with a cheesy lasagna dinner in Italianni's. At that time my attention again shifted to my stomach as I went straight to get something warm and soothing.

On my way home I felt my body's tired and has already reached it's toxicity limit as I prepared to take the sheets. I knew I dreamed of so many wonderful things that night as it permitted me to sleep amidst hopefully the last stomach chaos.

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