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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

Ah, lord.

I'm leaving the last post untouched, as a reminder to myself to NEVER DRINK AGAIN. EVER. Drinking is bad, kids. Don't do it. Especially don't do it when you know you shouldn't, you have tons of things to do the next day, you can't afford it, you should really know better, and it's going down a little bit too easy for comfort.

My name is Shazzle, and I have an alcohol infatuation problem. Coupled with an inability to not smoke while pissed. Oopsy.

I even got a taxi home, because I couldn't be bothered waiting for the last bus, which meant spending an extra €15, which I can't afford. And the lovely swervy taxi man appeared to be on the brink of falling asleep on the way home. My advice to the taxi man - don't listen to Q102 at 2 in the morning. Not going to help much. Also? Leaning right in to the steering wheel, constantly rubbing your eyes, yawning and driving in two lanes AT THE SAME TIME down the dual carriageway? Not confidence inspiring.

Luckily, I was a little too drunk to give a damn last night.

Today, I feel ill. I haven't had a hangover like this for absolute ages. It's that one where you don't feel too bad, but you're all shaky and cold and then shaky and hot, and no matter what you do you can't get that icky alcohol-and-fags taste out of your mouth, and the look on your face makes children want to cry and hide behind their mother. Not ill enough to justify going back to bed for the day, but too ill to be able to do anything at all for longer than 10 minutes.

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