Dreams

     As previously stated in these pages, I dreamed of elite props, which got me out of bed and on the trails and into the gym. Build that rugby body Temple. Then enjoy it on Saturday.
     Now I sleep in a hammock and people pay me to write crap like this.
       Have you partied too hard? Is the bed spinning? Did you party like a drummer in a 70's rock band? As a creature that is 98 percent water, the cure is obvious. A hangover is just your body processing the poison. Your brain is dehydrated. Flush your system early and often. As

Homer Simpson noted, "Alcohol, the cure to and cause of all of life's problems.

     A truly professional drinker, like James Bond, for instance, Will start his recovery the day before. They never show the SECOND part og his Martini order in the movies because the job of Hollywood is to give the sheep of the world bad habit bad or sad habits that can be cured by police, asylums, over-the-counter medications, the love of another person, or rehab. Sell. sell sell baby! That water bottle isn't sexy, what's that doing in the shot? If you have read any of Ian Fleming's novels then you know thatJames Bond was always known to order " a Dry vodka Martini, shaken not stirred. AND another glacial water if you have it love." He was a truly bad man. Bad in the Micheal Jackson in the 80's sense. Are you a bad man or a man that "Baahs."

     What type of drinker are you? GOAT, Simpson, Bond, Franklin or sheep? Bond starts re-hydrating the night before. Several GOAT-candidate drinkers that I have met over the years have followed the "warm-weather strategy" of one solo cup of water for every solo cup of malted adult beverage. Sure you fill up, that's part of the fun of beer. How are you ever going to "bloat like a big dog" if you do not stretch that stomach out? This is a trick also used by competitive eaters to get ready for the finest exhibition of manly in the world, the Wing Bowl.

     Speaking of bloated historic drinkers, how about Philly's finest son, Ben Fizzle, illuminati hero, Ill libertine hero in the diz/doggiest sense. You have a feeling after drinking in The city of Brotherly love for a while that Ben would be on of those mysterious smokers that disappear for a few minutes from time to time and come back laughing and smelling like Grandma's glaucoma meds. Ask yourself this question, "What kind of genius flies a kite in a thunderstorm?" Have a glass of water for that cottonmouth Ben! Also drink as much as you can before turning in. When you wake up to use the loo, repeat the process, drink another pint or more. This will have you waking up much fresher, or wetting the bed like several rugby players who even the cheapest team mate will not double up with to save costs.

    Some will tell you to pop a couple aspirin in the night before, and if you are the type of person to lean on a pharmaceutical crutch, you can't do better than Excedrin, the Professional drinkers secret.