Home > Observations > Blotchy, splotchy, muddled.

Blotchy, splotchy, muddled.

 
I hate mornings after.
 
The kind when you wake up to distended limbs and an achy head – the result of a late night drinking session. First at Orange’s place, then at Thai Disco. Now, I consider myself a seasoned drinker – well-marinated in Chardonnays, XOs, hops and malts – but lately, on the next day, I get splotchy.
 
It used to be just hangovers, furry tongues and muddled heads. Now, a splotchy body?!
 
That, I think, must be a bad sign.
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