by Tommy Gimler
It could have been that bottle of Pacifico that I pounded down 45 minutes before midnight. Or maybe it was the fact that I had a Budweiser, Coors Light, two different IPA’s, a bottle of beer that someone ripped the label off of and that might have had the end of a Marb Red at the bottom of it, and a shot of Fireball whiskey before that. I’m not sure. All I know is that when I woke up this morning, my head felt like I had been the victim of an eight-hour facesitting sesh with Melissa McCarthy.
Ugh. It hurts too much for me to come up with any other comparisons. so instead of writing anything else, I’ll just let this video of Jadeveon Clowney at today’s Outback Bowl demonstrate how I, along with 62% of Americans, are probably still feeling right now:
Shit, for all I know, that actually might have happened to me sometime last night. But since I blacked out sometime between visiting the local Yum Yum Donuts around 1:45am and waking up wearing just my socks and lying in a puddle of my own sweat on my couch at 3:30am, I guess we’ll never know…