Just rub some dirt on it

That’s what Momma used to say, well she’s never actually said that when I’ve whined about a hangover, but it seems for anything else that ailed you, rubbing dirt on it was an obvious solution. Here’s the thing, I’m not 22 anymore. In fact this year I’m turning, well let’s just say old enough where I should know better than to have my liver do a decathlon. With Intern in town I imagine we’ll be partying likes it’s 2007, and I can see the Beer Olympics on the horizon. There are really no options, so instead of primary prevention, I figure I’ll go for secondary or even in some cases tertiary.

CNN put out an article recently on food cures for hangovers from all over the place. I’m sure I’m not the only one who will try anything the day after the night you actually thought grape drank shots with 10 beer backs were a good idea. You know what I’m talking about; you awaken fully clothed, hopefully alone, crinkled bar receipt in your pocket, perhaps sleeping sideways on your bed, vision blurred, feeling as if you’ve spent the past week wandering the desert.

What cures you? Is it spicy, greasy, salty, sweet? I myself am kind of partial (Momma stop reading here, I’ll let you know when it’s ok to read again, just look for the bold print) to hungover sexytime, sometimes spicy, sometimes sweet, whatever it is about it, it works. Hmm, maybe it’s because sexytime is my favorite time of day and it ends in a nap. Just in case you don’t have the option of using my cure, lets talk food.

Pick up here Momma

In the good ol’ US of A we go for the greasy and fatty. Bacon, eggs, and anything fried are the go to food for the cure. Turns out fatty foods are actually a better prevention method than a cure, as the grease repels booze from the stomach lining. Eggs on the other hand contain amino acids which help to break down post-drinking toxins. Sweet! I love America, bacon for dinner, eggs for breakfast…sign me up.

In Denmark they call it "reparationsbajer", in Japan it’s “futsukayoi”, or “fix-it Brewster” and “second day drunk” respectively. I call this “hair of the dog”, turns out the Irish do as well so I’ll fit right in come June. In my opinion, the Danes, Japanese and Irish hit this one on the head, but science would have you believe that it does more harm than good because your poor liver has to start working double time.

I don’t know if Sarah Palin has ever seen a Russian drinking pickle juice straight from the jar while she keeps an eye on them from her front porch but turns out pickle juice = bye bye hangover. As if that isn’t gross enough, Koreans who throw down too much Cass or Hite eat some type of soup made from coagulated ox blood, cabbage, cow bones, pork spine and veggies.

My thoughts, if you can eat ground up cow soup or drink pickle juice straight from a jar (unless you’re Snookie of course) without throwing up, you probably don’t have that bad of a hangover. So quitcha whining and go make me some eggs, bring me a beer, or leave me alone so I can enjoy my favorite time of day.

Absolutely mad wi' it

So, I've been gone for awhile...vacation, needing a vacation to recover from my vacation, catching up with friends I hadn't seen since I was on vacation, and sleeping off a 12 hour time difference have kept me away. I feel like I've been cheating on this little blog here, having a torrid affair with life that kept me away. The affair's not over, but I have realized that I can make room for some two-timing.

Where to begin...my vacation this year was spent in Thailand. For those of you who aren't geographists, if you went out in your backyard and started digging you would eventually end up there, or relatively close to there. Basically what I'm saying is that it is far from here, really really ridiculously far. To quantify that even further, it is a 23 hour plane ride away. Throw a couple layovers in there in very interesting and exotic places like 'Detroit' and 'Tokyo' and you're probably looking at spending well over a day getting your happy ass to the land of the Thai people. Honestly after spending 27 hours traveling there I seriously considered digging my way back to the good ol USofA instead of taking delta, but I'm lazy so I took the plane.

After arriving in Thailand it was a big hug for J-Nelly, straight to bed, and up in the am to catch a van to Kanchanaburi. This extremely long named town was home to the Bridge over the River Kwai, some adorable baby tigers which I got to snuggle, waterfalls and more than a few elephants. I don't really know how to wrap that up in words to I'll let some pictures do the talking for me here.

While I can't seem to piece together the experiences I had into sentences that would actually do them justice I will tell you about the bit of my trip that was by far the funniest.

On our 2nd day in Kanachanaburi J-Nelly and I were awoken by Jose holding a helmet and a set of keys. After rubbing the sleep from our eyes we figured out that he had rented a motorbike for for the day for something like 5 cents (everything in Thailand is like 1/100 of the cost it is here) and we would be making a 45 minute trek to The Tiger Temple on two wheels. Having never driven on the 'wrong' side of the road I decided riding shotgun would be best and let J-Nelly man our whip.

After spending the day snuggling baby tigers and hiking through a good bit of nature to locate a poorly mapped cave we arrived back at the guest house parked our whips and set out to get cleaned up for dinner. Being that the bathroom was set up so that you could sit on the toilet while showering and brushing your teeth at the same time, we opted for a dip in pool as it would likely get us just as 'clean' and it afforded the opportunity to drink a couple beers.

In the pool we met a couple, a Scottish guy and a British girl. Most people know I'm mesmerized by accents and immediately think everything they say is more humorous by at least 10 fold. After putting down several beers and chit chatting with them we learned they got absolutely mad wi' it, I mean just blootered, smashed drunk the the night before last and had woken up with tattoos of each others names in Thai. She predictably got his name on her ring finger and he unpredictably got hers on the back of his ear. Yeah, and when I say the back of his ear, I mean the outer rim of his ear. This alone was asinine. After another beer, the drunk 50 some year old bartender stumbled back to the pool and started up a conversation with Jnelly, none of which we understood as it was in Thai. This led to a great amount of excitement on the part of the Scot. What unfolded was this... "You speak bloody Thai?!? Pointing feverishly to his ear as he splashed haphazardly towards her "Tell me this doesn't say twat!!!! Tell me this doesn't say twat!!!", Janelle kindly spoke the truth and told him it did in fact say his wife's name. I will admit that I was a bit disappointed that her kind heart did not take advantage of these people by telling them it his read 'twat' and hers read 'David' (which was not her husbands name). Regardless, for the remainder of our time in Kanachanaburi they were known as Dave and Twat, and they were marvelous.

That night we went out for dinner and drinks together with the mission to find three other random travelers to split a ride with us the next day to the waterfalls. We were met with success and found two girls who had just graduated from university in Holland as well as a German woman. I have to pause here and provide a side note on the German woman. She smoked, a lot. I, with no exaggeration, can say she smoked for 87% (I may be underestimating there actually) of the time we were with her. It was if she did not stop smoking from the time we met her until the next day when we dropped her off. Now we didn't stay at the same guest house but I'm pretty sure she has constructed some type of machine that pumps smoke into her lungs while she sleeps, she was that dedicated. Honestly, I don' t know that you're getting it...I mean, I can't figure out how she did it but she was directly under a waterfall with a lit cigarette, smoking. Ok, that has absolutely nothing to do with the story but it was so uncanny that I had to mention it.

Flash to the next day. We all show up to catch our truck to the waterfalls, some feeling a little bit hazy from the night before (twat, dave), some bright eyed and bushy tailed (me- I'm impervious to hangovers on vacation- its like magic!). Dave's tummy hurt so before we took off he hit the bathroom taking advantage of the western style toilets and the toilet paper available, then we were off. J-nelly offered Dave a dose of Imodium to put a plug in it for the ride and the day at the waterfalls. Apparently the Imodium didn't have time to work because twenty minutes into the ride he started sweating, cursing curry, and honestly probably would have traded his first born for a bathroom. We got the driver to stop, the Holland girls offered up their roll of TP and he was off the back of our truck in a sprint, holding his asshole the whole way.

We took this opportunity to use the restrooms ourselves and buy some weird food to snack on for the remainder of the trip. After about twenty minutes he came back to the truck, exhausted, and looking much better as some color had returned to his sunburned face. He explained the ordeal in a way only a Scotsman could. "It was a bloody massacre, it was like an explosion. I barely got me pants down before I could sit." This went on for several minutes to erupting laughter from his travel companions. Honestly it took a couple minutes before J-nelly picked it up but then the questions started coming....

Jnelly: "Did you say sit down? Um, those were squatting toilets."
Dave: What the f#ck's a squatting toilet?"
Jnelly: Like they have everywhere here, you squat over them, you don't sit on them"
Dave: "I thought me balls were a wee bit close to the water"
A: "What did you think the little ribbing was for, so you didn't slide off?"
Holland : "Wasn't it dirty from people standing on it"
Dave: "Everything is Thailand is f#cking dirty


Aye Dave, Aye. Everything in Thailand is f#ckign dirty. Best part of this whole thing is, they had been in the country for at least 3 days and I bet that wasn't the first time he'd had to make a dookie....



Kudos to my tour guide. The trip was amazing and provided a wealth of experiences I won't soon forget. Looking forward to our next adventure my friend...



Oh, and this sign was in the cab and I couldn't get over it. In cabs in Thailand you are apparently not allowed to: smoke, poop, be a baby jacking it's wenis, do it doggie style, or eat smelly fruit. Damn.