Sam's Birthday Party. No. Correction, Alcohol Chug Fest!

Firstly, I reveal some of the acceptable images of Sam's Birthday Party....

Mel and Cheyna, Daft Mandy in the back

The chocolate cake shooters. They really did taste like chocolate cake. 

Besties

Mel and Sam (the birthday girl)

Posers!

The Girls

Great fun but the next day?

I was regurgitating whiskey through my nose!  I thought my stomach was churning liquored butter!  I couldn’t pick my head up without feeling like it was going disengage from my staggering body.  Even my fucking eyeballs ached.  The kids wanted me out of bed at 6:30am but didn’t they know I only got home at 2am?  I think I was still half pissed when I got up.

Jaysus, I wondered how I was going to get through the day. 

On top of that we had a family lunch at a semi-posh restaurant to go to.  I didn’t know how I was going to make it!  Especially as my gut was doing an impersonation of an alcoholic tumbleweed.   I could hardly walk, let alone make polite conversation and pretend to be human.  Cool water on my face was my best friend after hanging over the porcelain.  Everything I was ingesting was revisiting my mouth 10 minutes later.  Urgh!  

I spent the morning retching up most of the alcohol in my system. Then the dry heaves set in.  My belly lurches were causing an intestinal inferno.  I tried to take wee nibbles of dry bread to settle my stomach so I could make it to lunch. 

I finally made it to the restaurant for lunch and I also managed to eat something and digest it!  My Cajun calamari would have tasted so much better without the peppering of puke.

Never again!

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