Hungover Man vs. The Manicured Wild

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I want to do is use the loo.

The first thing I felt this morning was a terrible headache. The first thing I saw was a grey sky. The first thing I heard was the crinkling of a plastic water bottle when I rolled over on it. It was empty, by the way.

I was on a couch in the middle of a sparse forest. Those friends. I am never drinking with them again.

Taped to the middle cushion was a black-and-white printout of a tweet of mine: In honour of all your @replies about pee drinking. Am on vacation in LA. Looks like I’ll have to drink my own pee!
And the attached picture of my own (handsome) grimacing face.

Taking the pink bunny slippers that were graciously provided, I slipped them on my bare feet. I snatched the paper off the couch, grabbed the bottle, and started the short walk along the road. I recognized the landscape; it was probably about five minutes from my place.

I’d use the water bottle once I got there.

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