Bleurgh. Being somewhat out of practice of the old drinking thing, I forgot how awful hangovers are.
Good night out, followed by 3am sickness. Poor sleep, punctuated by thumping head and shivers. Surprise sickness later on didn't help much either.
The cure, as every drunkard Scot knows, is Irn Bru. Having dispatched grumpypants to procure some Irn Bru, with the desperate instruction of "even if it's Iron Brew", imagine my displeasure when he returned with no juice at all. Not even Pepsi Max which is my drink of choice usually and which was half price. "you said Irn Bru" he protested, having refused to buy Iron Brew on principle.
10pm I got my Irn Bru, for that is when I was well enough to go out myself.
It was good.
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Welcome to the contents of my head. It's a funny old head, you have been warned. You're not here anyway, you're a figment of delusion. Hmm.
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2 comments:
Iron Bru... you scots! haha, although it IS delish, but I've never heard or seen a stereotype more played out than the Iron Bru obsession. My boyfriend, who is Scottish, also loves the stuff, but, well... all I can say is LILT. Totally tropical! haha!
You non-Scots! It's Irn Bru. Iron Brew is a cheap fake.
:-p
It does work. Don't know why. Lilt is too lilty.
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