A Full English Breakfast Will Cure What Ails You

Went out with some of The Cats last night, and feel fucking appalling this afternoon.

I always feel fucking appalling after a night with The Cats, because of the very nature of our meetings. When we meet we drink too much, smoke too much, talk too much (shite), do too many drugs, stay up too late, are too honest with one another, do too many shots - we are excessive, to say the least. And I will always feel fucking appalling the afternoon after (I say the afternoon after rather than the morning after because the morning after is generally still the night before, if you catch my drift).

But it's funny, I don't get the guilts when I've been out with The Cats, the hangover doesn't fill me with a sense of regret or depression. Because partying with The Cats - the punishment is worth the crime.

As I type, the Flatmate is at the shops buying us the ingredients for a full English Breakfast (I'm a firm believer that in any circumstance, the full English Breakfast will cure what ails you) and some ciggies - turns out the Flatmate isn't in fact a prick. He's a fantastic guy. It was just hidden under a layer of prick.

So I'm working on the formula to the perfect hangover cure. I think I have it - today is the perfect opportunity to try it on for size;

1 pint of fresh orange juice (no less, must push through the acidic burn)
full English Breakfast (with lots of salt to soak up booze)
soluble Vitamin C drink (like Alka Seltzer, but yummy)
Half pint of semi skimmed milk sipped slowly (gives you the shits a bit, but helps settle stomach)
2 paracetamol (after food)
A cup of fizzy-good-make-feel-nice (Alka-Seltzer)
A vitamin tablet
Then (and only then) you have the first fag of the day, with a lovely milky sugary cup of tea.

Hopefully I've cracked it.