Wiwille blows

I held it up in the air, gloriously posing for everyone who cared. People wowed a bit showing a bit of interest in my display. I was proud with a sense of awe marveling at how I could master the fine art of standing.

Earlier that evening I was at the bar sipping a martini. Tad texted me asking where I was. After some back and forth he stated everyone was waiting at the bowling lanes. I made my way to the lane, caught up with everyone, drank some more, bowled very badly, and was enjoying the birthday party.

After the games died down everyone made their way back to the lounge. Someone then pulled out a breathalyzer. This evening I was to be champion at something. Bowling was not my strong suit so I might as well delve into the skill that I know best and that is consuming alcohol.

I drank more. I blew into the device. It kept misreading my level of intoxication. This will not do. I must come away the winner. Yes folks I had a goal that evening and that was to see how high this machine could go. I kept drinking, kept blowing, more drinking, more blowing.

Finally after my liver cried out for me to stop I took the thing in hand and blew. I hold it watching the numbers register. I look at it as the digital display started going higher and higher. Finally it stopped at .15. It was my moment to shine. I had consumed enough alcohol and was well beyond the point of driving, possibly engaging in polite and civil discourse.

After my proud moment I was taken home. I stumbled into my place and nearly fell onto the glass table. After making the perilous trek into my bedroom I laid down. Room was spinning, stomach was churning, and all I wanted was to just fall asleep.

And then I thought of her.

"A real hangover is nothing to try out family remedies on. The only cure for a real hangover is death." - Robert Benchley