kits

~Do not attempt unless massive hangover is desired

Gosh, I'm getting too old for this shit. Spending the night puking your guts out at the Cashbox ladies room is NOT my idea of a good fun Saturday night. My lower jaw and collarbone are still hurting from hanging my head against the toilet seat for at least 1.5 hours; the remnants of the killer headache I was sporting yesterday is still lurking at the back of my head; and the urge to run to the nearest bathroom is not over yet while I'm having my morning cup of coffee (and the time now is Monday morning). 

The only consolation I can derive from this horrendous experience is that my cream suede heels are miraculously free from any stains after spending the night with me sprawled on the bathroom floor. And as I was throwing up the entire contents of my stomach, my one conscious thought was: at least I don't have to go to the gym tomorrow since none of the calories imbibed tonight has been absorbed into my body. Sick, I know (in more sense than one).