The hangover rating system...

1 star hangover:

No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your sleep last night was a mere nap which is giving you a whole lot of misplaced energy.  Be glad that you are able to function relatively well.  However, you are still thirsty and very hungry. You can drink ten sodas and still feel this way. Even vegetarians are craving a steak and a side of gravy fries from any truck stop in the USA.

2 star hangover:

No pain. Something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you chug to try and remain focused is only making the loud rumbling in your gut worse. Last night has wreaked havoc on your bowels and even though you have a nice demeanor about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you are really able to do is surf the internet and write junk e-mails.

3 star hangover:

Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not so productive. Anytime a girl/guy walks by you gag because her/his perfume/cologne reminds you of the random shots you did with your alcoholic friends. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen donuts and a meatball sub watching MTV.  You have had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 Snapples and a 2 liter bottle of diet coke - yet you haven't peed once.

4 star hangover:

Life sucks. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too fast or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes but that can't hide the fact that you missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, (girls, it looks like you put on your make-up while riding a bumper car). Your teeth have grown hair, your eyes look like one big vein, and your hair style makes you look like an original drawing of the Grinch that stole Christmas. You would shoot your mother for a time machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before.

5 star hangover:

Also known as Dante's 4th Circle of Hell. You now have a second heartbeat in your head which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and is making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva so your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last of the moisture left in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because let's face it, all you can manage to do is bitch about your state - which is a mystery to you because you definitely don't remember who you were with, where you were, what or how much you drank and why there is a stranger still sleeping in your bed, unaccompanied, at your house. The only thing you can do well at this time is pass out.

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CHRISTMAS FRUITCAKE RECIPE

You'll need the following:

1 C water 1 tsp. baking soda

1 C sugar 1 C brown sugar

4 large eggs lemon juice

2 C dried fruit nuts

1 tsp. salt 1 FULL bottle of your favorite whiskey

Sample the whiskey to check for quality. Take a large bowl.  Check the whiskey again to be sure that it is of the highest quality. Pour one level cup and drink. Repeat.  Turn on the electric mixer. Beat 1 C of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add 1 tsp. sugar and beat again. Make sure the whiskey is still okay.  Cry another tup. Turn off the mixer.  Break two legs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.  Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the whiskey to check for tonsisticity. Next, sift 2 cups of salt. Or something. Who cares.

Check the whiskey. Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Spoon. Of sugar or something. Whatever you can find.  Grease the oven. Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out the window. Check the whiskey again. Go to bed. Who the heck likes fruitcake anyway??!!

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