This is a contest. Tell me about the worst hangover you've ever had, and the night that preceded it. The winner gets a $25 gift certificate from Barnes and Noble. I'm the judge, and grammar counts. Deadline is tomorrow, May 16, at midnight, EST. Limit 500 words. Expletives and emesis get bonus points. Ready, set, go...

I'll tell you mine after all the entries are in.

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Aye, and don't forget me bucko, Captain Morgan...."Fleets In!"
Picture me with knee up...SALUTE!
The night before hadn’t been the end of just another Tuesday; it had been the conclusion to a two-day journey of hundreds of miles, comprised of a lot of sleepless hours.

I’d left home Sunday. Night flights usually work for me. This one didn’t. When I reached London I was exhausted, but I had hours to kill before boarding the sleeper car to take the train to Edinburgh. I’d made this trip once before, a year earlier. That time I’d had a compartment to myself. This time, I wasn’t so lucky, and there’s nothing like being overdue for rest and bunking with a chatterbox.

After managing just a few hours of sleep in two days I arrived at Waverley Station in Edinburgh. It didn’t take long to find my way to the hotel, where I would be meeting my traveling companion, who I’ll call Maggie.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m overtired I get to the point where food must be avoided. Exhaustion produces some sort of prolonged nausea. And by now I was overtired. Sleep was out of the question.

I had an invite to call someone and meet up. Someone Maggie and I both admire.

When Maggie arrived she made me phone right away.

Once plans were made we went into the city. Have I mentioned I hadn’t been eating? And Scotland was having a heat wave. By the time we met up with our host we were sticky, thirsty, hungry and tired. But still too excited to give any of that top priority.

Let’s just put it this way: By the time we got back to his house I was ready to drink whatever was offered. We were sitting outside in the sun and the wine was perfect. I don’t think I realized I drank about a whole bottle until I tried to stand up.

Um, this is probably where I should insert that I don’t actually drink much.

And certainly the heat wasn’t helping.

Not to mention that when I say “Thank you” here when someone’s pouring they take it as a cue to stop. In Scotland it seemed to mean, “Um, great, more thanks.” Of course, it’s also rude not to drink what you’ve been served when you’re a guest… I mean, I had no choice… Right?

The moral of the story is, when you haven’t slept much for two days, are sitting outside feeling like a pig roasting on a spit, and you haven’t been eating much it might not be the best idea to drink a fair bit more than usual.

By the time we got back to our hotel I sounded like a giggly schoolgirl. Just ask Russel McLean – he talked to me on the phone and the next day helped me sober up in Rebus’s watering hole, the Oxford Bar.

And that’s the true story of how I got mildly drunk with my favourite author.
Well, Sandra, I would say you have more sense than most of us. Believe me, telling God to just let you live and you'll never do it again isn't very pleasant.

Now call Ken and tell him we want HIS story. ;)
Oh, I don't know about more sense Jude! It's pretty much the only time in my life I've been drunk, and Ian was quite amused. I'm just glad when I stood up I didn't promptly fall over.

I can't phone Ken right now - it's the middle of the night in Ireland!
Wake his ass up. This is important! ;)
All of these entries are great. I swear, I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Thanks to all who entered. It was truly difficult to pick a winner.

I had to pick one, though, and the winner is Sean Lindsay. Good job, Sean. Your story cracked me up. Send your mailing address to and I'll mail your prize.

Thanks again to Karen, Jordan, Karyn, and Sandra.

The contest deadline has passed, but I know there are some additional hangover tales out there. Let's hear them! I'll try to get mine up later today.
Wow, cool. And they say you can't make money from writing.
Did any of us really want to 'win' this challenge? Sean, my condolences.
Good show, Sean! Jordan, the good news is that since Sean has sworn off the hard stuff, we still have another shot at this title. We just have to keep trying. Although I did check the box on my driver's license for organ donor, I think a little tet ta tet or tar tar, as they say, with English beef in the late 80's makes me ineligible. SO I'll keep my blasted liver and have another go at the crown. (Royal)
You guys kill me. Thanks so much for the laughs!


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