The sky was pure opal now.
Oscar WildeStichwörter: hangover
Dixon was alive again. Consciousness was upon him before he could get out of the way; not for him the slow, gracious wandering from the halls of sleep, but a summary, forcible ejection. He lay sprawled, too wicked to move, spewed up like a broken spider-crab on the tarry shingle of morning. The light did him harm, but not as much as looking at things did; he resolved, having done it once, never to move his eyeballs again. A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he'd somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by secret police. He felt bad.
Kingsley AmisStichwörter: humor literature alcohol hangover
How do I feel today? I feel as unfit as an unfiddle,
And it is the result of a certain turbulence in the mind and an uncertain burbulence in the middle.
What was it, anyway, that angry thing that flew at me?
I am unused to banshees crying Boo at me.
Your wife can’t be a banshee—
Or can she?
Stichwörter: poetry marriage relationships drinking hangover banshees
Curse you, cheap beer. Must find miso in tiny packet.
MCMStichwörter: humor alcohol malediction hangover
Alan Campbell opened one eye.
From somewhere in remote distances, muffled beyond sight or sound, his soul crawled back painfully, through subterranean corridors, up into his body again. Toward the last it moved to a cacophony of hammers and lights.
Then he was awake.
The first eye was bad enough. But, when he opened his second eye, such as rush of anguish flowed through his brain that he hastily closed them again.
Stichwörter: mystery scotland whiskey hangover scotch
A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he'd somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by secret police. He felt bad.
Kingsley AmisStichwörter: hangover
We are indeed drifting into the arena of the unwell.
Bruce RobinsonStichwörter: comedy illness independent hangover unwell
Hangovers are a vivid form of vengeance. Last night my apartment became the venue for a small, introverted chardonnay festival. A melancholy choir of Bulgarians provided the entertainment, via a set of headphones that ended up irredeemably tangled beneath the bed. Part of me just watched. The other part was in charge.
Liz JensenStichwörter: self-pity alcohol hangover break-ups
Well, I drank enough to sustain a small Spanish village, I haven't had an orgasm in a thousand years, and I will probably die old and alone in a beautifully designed apartment with all of Clive's illegitimate children swarming around me...How do you think I feel?
Alice ClaytonStichwörter: drinking hangover
What the fuck is going on Lor? What the hell did you do last night? What did you say to Kacey? Who the hell is Blue Eyes and why is my car spray-painted with the word ‘asshole’?”
Spray-paint? Oh dear God, what have I done?
Stichwörter: humour funny hangover
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