Thursday, May 12, 2011

11 Worst Places To Be Hungover (Of The Day)

To me, any place is the worst place to be hungover, but considers these more painful than others.


Dont be hung over while helping a friend move.

Hey, remember that lazy friend of yours who can't get rid of anything? The one who narrowly missed an opportunity to be on Hoarders? Yeah, he's moving this morning. And you promised him months ago that you'd help. And he's barely packed anything. And he has lots of heavy oak furniture, and no dolly. Also, you just puked in his armoire.


After a Friday night out with the boys, you awaken on Saturday to your girlfriend shaking you violently, hissing, "We're going to be late for my nephew's birthday party! And you promised you'd come if I let you go out last night!" Before you can even say "dumped," you're at a pizza place popularized by a large rodent, with screaming, wall-eyed children running circles around you. At least puking on the floor is an everyday occurrence at this joint.


Whats more sad than an old person at a nursing home? A hung-over  person.

Yeah yeah, we realize your grandma may not last another week and you'll be wracked with guilt if you cancel your weekend visit, but you're feeling half past dead yourself. Is it really a good idea to spend a day in a confined space with old folks who are already 9/10 of the way there?


Post-drinking downside to amusements parks: Much like Chuck E. Cheese, you're looking at another "screaming children" scenario. Upside: You're also looking at another "go ahead and puke anywhere" scenario. And trust us, with the sweltering heat, swarms of insects at every garbage can, and tubby guys in tank tops and bike shorts, there'll be plenty of those scenarios. That's not even taking into account feeling man enough to get on a ride. Don't feel that way. Just embrace your inner pussy.


There are many ways to spend two hours the day after a misguided night of debauchery. Sleeping, doing absolutely nothing, and talking to dinosaurs on the big white telephone spring to mind. Or you could spend 120 minutes listening to people bang trash can lids together. (And cursing whichever asshole relative gave you the $200 tickets as a birthday gift.)

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