Don’t Try This at Home
Posted by spunky | Filed under Monkee Bar, Monkee Do
Spunkymonkee went to Mambo.
Spunkymonkee turned down a hotdog even though she was hungry cos she had a late lunch.
Spunkymonkee had vodka, Spunkymonkee had tequila, Spunkymonkee had beer. And a few sips of white wine.
Spunkymonkee’s head started to spin. Spunkymonkee smoked.
Spunkymonkee had an awesome time since she hasn’t been out for a long time.
Spunkymonkee didn’t lose her wallet or handphone or cigarettes.
Spunkymonkee went for teochew porridge supper.
Everything was fine until after that late meal of porridge with salted egg, steamed egg, cockles, ‘Heh Bee Hiam’ and…well I can’t really remember what else we ordered. As always our eyes were hungrier than our stomachs and quite frankly I wasn’t in the state to really think about whether I was supposed to eat. I felt hungry, Sharon said porridge is good. I guess I didn’t factor in the somewhat oily dishes. All I had in mind was a salted egg.
*Oh but the see haam (cockles) was shiokadooooos!*
Sharon felt the urge to go home, she bundled herself into a taxi and didn’t wait for us. On hindsight I should have done the same thing instead of sitting by the steps and waiting it out. I refused to throw up in public, my head started to spin everytime I closed my eyes. I struggled to keep my eyes open. Steven tried talking me through the ordeal. We finally got into a taxi, I got home and promptly passed out on the couch.
Not knowing how long I had passed out for, I woke up with an awful feeling and again I resisted throwing up.
Too late, it was coming up.
I covered my mouth and attempted to dash to the kitchen sink, teochew porridge mixed with alcohol and stomach acid started flying out. I slipped on some and fell backwards, landed on my head and groaned in a world of pain. This had to be the first time I sobered up so quickly, there i was trying to get up off the floor in the dark, not knowing what a mess I had made.
Everything came out. I hate having porridge stuck in my nose.
When I turned on the lights, the kitchen looked like a scene from The Exorcist. How it got all the way up to the kitchen cabinet door is beyond me.I finished half a roll of kitchen towels cleaning up, attempted to mop with a floor mat, picking up pieces of whatever I ate for supper.
Gross.
My baby toe on my left foot started to hurt like a bitch, I don’t think it’s broken though. That cut you see, I still don’t know how it happened.
Today I woke up feeling mighty tender. A brief chat with Mark (he’s a nurse) and I took his advice to ice my foot.
No more late night supper after drinking. Bleagh.
