Self Abuse

Why did I drink so much beer last night? And why did I choose to open a bottle of wine after I’d finished the beer? And why did I finish the whole lot?
Needless to say, my body is groaning under the weight of all these toxins. My head is a mess and there is a part of my brain that is being drilled on without anaesthetic. There’s something of a Gollum conversation going on in there: “We drank farrr too much last night, my Preciousss..”
To ease my pain, I have taken large doses of Panadol, Alice Bachini, whose prose has the dry wit and style to comfort any ailment, and Emily’s It Comes in Pints, which I thought was appropriate in the circumstances. I did pass on the second breakfast though…