I died, I think

Laying in bed this morning (early afternoon...) with my eyes shut tight, spread eagle on my back, gripping the bottom sheet because I didn't want to fall off the room, and praying for someone to cut my throbbing thumping head off. I learned what hell is. I was certain that I died of alcohol poisoning, and had gone straight to drunkard's hell. Which is amusing in its own right, because I don't even believe in hell.

I made this drink last night:

2 cups of half and half
1 and a half cups EACH of kahlua, vodka, and creme de cacao

shaken in a half gallon bottle, served over lots of ice, with a squeeze of chocolate syrup.

The problem lies in the drink itself. It's more than half alcohol, you see. But it TASTES exactly like chocolate milk, innocent, sweet chocolate milk. I managed to drink the greater part of two batches of it, last night.

I learned some very important lessons, though. Lesson one: One pitcher is usually enough. Two is definitely overkill. Lesson two: Never swap out any piercing jewelery, because disasters are bound to happen. I arbitrarily decided that I needed to change my nipple rings, from the curved bars, to the shields. The right one didn't get tightened properly, and now it's gone. I think it got loose in my sleep. When I can look down, without puking, I shall commence the search. They're my favorite shields.

Never never never never again. I'm serious. I mean it.

Till next time, anyway.