Happy New Year...

To one and all.

I'm sitting at my mums with the biggest hangover I've had in a long time. My head feels like my brain is three sizes too big, my mouth is drier than the Sahara desert and my guts are churning and groaning like a retarded child trapped in a washing machine.

And the reason for this hangover? Apart from it being new year obviously, a time when Scottish people the world over sup large amounts of booze and drink like there is no tommorow. (We are still a relatively backwards country and still aren't sure we shouldn't still be sacraficing virgins to ensure the sun rises in the morning.)

Well, the main reason for the hangover I'm suffering is that I knocked back 3/4 of a bottle of Hills Absinth. It's a funny old drink Absinth, it's the kind of drink that if it were a human it'd be the kind of person who befriends you in a bar, gets you to drink a little more than usual and then mugs you for your wallet after he makes the pretense of making sure you get home alright.

In short, it's an evil bastard of a drink. But goddamn! It's good... At the time.

Unfortunately it's also an evil bastard the following morning. When the light hit my eyeballs I felt as though pure raw reality was being burned into my retinas. There was a certain strange green quality to it.

A tinge of chartreuse around the edge of your field of vison can be a bit offputting in the first moments after opening your eyes. Especially as my brain was still in the process of trying to figure out if this was a strange dream that my Absinth soaked brain had conjured up.

After a few glorious seconds of uncertainty my head began to pound. I realised that this was no dream. This, unfortunately for me, was reality.

I dragged myself out of my bed and headed into the kitchen to get a drink of water to assist in removing my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Big mistake. The water hit my stomach and it began to cramp up. "Oh shit." I thought, "Here we go."

The cramp turned out to be nothing more than a vile smelling fart that had obviously been stored up during the few hours I had slept. As soon as the smell hit my nose I began to retch. I bolted for the bathroom, threw the lid of the toilet up and came face to face with a shit I must have laid after arriving back from my friends house.

So, there I was, head down in a toilet bowl full of my own shit, puking up green tinted bile while staring at the slowly bobbing turd and wondering if I'd survive the next few minutes. Eventually the hurling pukes finished and I stood up like a young deer taking its first steps.

I slowly walked back to my bed, stopping only to grab a bucket in case there was more puking on the cards for me, and slunk back to my bed for the next seven hours.