Hangover Rating Chart

* 1 star hangover
---------------------
No pain. no real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and when you
woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you.

You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from
all those vodka and Red Bulls.

However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel as parched as the
Sahara.

Even vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and a bag of fries.


** 2 star hangover
----------------------
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have
the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler.

The coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your
rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.

Although you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your
employer valuable money because all you really can handle is some light
filing, followed by aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.


*** 3 star hangover
------------------------
Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and
not so productive.

Anytime a girl or lad walks by you gag because the perfume/aftershave
reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends
after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 am.

Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a kebab and a
litre of coke watching daytime TV.

You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 6 chicken nuggets and a
litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.


**** 4 star hangover
-------------------------
You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak
too quickly or else you might spew.

Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a
lecture for reeking of booze.

You wore nice clothes, but you smell of socks, and you can't hide the fact
that you (depending on your gender) either missed an oh-so crucial spot
shaving, or, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the
dodgems.

Your teeth have their own individual sweaters. Your eyes look like one big
vein and your hairstyle makes you look like a reject from a second-grade
class circa 1976.

You would give a weeks pay for one of the following - home time, a
cheeseburger and somewhere to be alone, or a Time Machine so you could go
back and NOT have gone out the night before.

You scare small children in the street just by walking past them.


***** 5 star hangover
---------------------------
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the
employee who sits next to you.

Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy.

You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing
your teeth.

Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is
suffocating you.

You'd cry but that would take the last drop of moisture left in your body.

Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you
and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so
pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you
can manage to do is breathe ..... very gently.


****** 6 star hangover
---------------------------
You arrive home and climb into bed.

Sleep comes instantly, as you were fighting it all the way home in the
taxi.

You get about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up.

You notice that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying
relentlessly around the room.

No matter what you do you now, you're going to chuck.

You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in a yacht under full
sail.

After walking along the skirting boards on alternating walls knocking off
all the pictures, you find the toilet.

If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously
explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of walrus
mating calls.

You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling the only friend in the
world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to make the walrus
noises, spitting, and farting. Help usually comes at this stage, even if it
is short lived.

Tears stream down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into
abuse and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark.

With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died back
to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent.

You are convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and
swear that you saw your tonsils shoot out of your mouth on the last
occasion.

It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the day
as you try to climb into bed. She/he abuses you again for trying to get
into bed with lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair.

You reluctantly accept their advice and have a shower in exchange for them
driving you to the hospital.

Work is simply not an option.

The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick
again, like moving.

You vow never to touch a drop again and who knows for the next two or three
hours at least you might even succeed.

OK, now hands up all those who have never had a six star hangover!!

Thought so!!

Another Irish Joke

Two Irishmen walk into a pet shop in Dingle. They head to the bird section and Gerry says to Paddy, "Dat's dem."

The owner comes over and asks if he can help them. "Yeah, we'll take four of dem dere little budgies in dat cage up dere," says Gerry.

The owner puts the budgies in a cardboard box. Paddy and Gerry pay for the birds, leaves the shop and get into Gerry's truck to drive to the top of the Conner Pass.

At the Connor Pass, Gerry looks down at the 1000 foot drop and says, "Dis looks like a grand place." He takes two birds out of the box, puts one on each shoulder and jumps off the cliff.

Paddy watches as the budgies fly off and Gerry falls all the way to the
bottom, killing himself stone dead.

Looking down at the remains of his best pal, Paddy shakes his head and says, "Fook dat. Dis budgie jumping is too fook'n dangerous for me!"

THERE'S MORE:-

Moments later, Seamus arrives up at Connor Pass. He's been to the pet shop too and walks up to the edge of the cliff carrying another cardboard box in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

"Hi Paddy, watch dis" Seamus says. He takes a parrot from the box and lets him fly free. He then throws himself over the edge of the cliff with the gun. Paddy watches as halfway down, Seamus takes the gun and shoots the parrot.

Seamus continues to plummet down and down until he hits the bottom and
breaks every bone in his body. Paddy shakes his head and says, "And I'm
never trying dat parrotshotting either!". Always

ITS NOT OVER YET (even though you wish it was)


Paddy is just getting over the shock of losing two friends when Sean
appears. He's also been to the pet shop and is carrying a cardboard box
out of which he pulls a chicken.

Sean then takes the chicken by its legs and hurls himself off the cliff
and disappears down and down until he hits a rock and breaks his spine.

Once more Paddy shakes his head. "Fook dat, lads. First dere was Gerry
with his budgie jumping, den Seamus parrotshooting...and now Sean and his fook'n hengliding!"

Innocent Eyes!

A father watched his young daughter playing in the garden. He smiled as he reflected on how sweet and pure his little girl was. Tears formed in his eyes as he thought about her seeing the wonders of nature through such innocent eyes. Suddenly she just stopped and stared at the ground.

He went over to her to see what work of God had captured her attention. He noticed she was looking at two spiders mating.

"Daddy, what are those two spiders doing?" she asked

"They're mating," her father replied

"What do you call the spider on top?" she asked.

"That's a Daddy Longlegs," her father answered.

"So, the other one is a Mommy Longlegs?" the little girl asked.

As his heart soared with the joy of such a cute and innocent question he replied "No dear. Both of them are Daddy Longlegs."

The little girl, looking a little puzzled, thought for a moment.........then took her foot and stomped them flat and said, "Well,
we're not having any of that gay sh*t in our garden."

The Spell Checker

A poem for those of you who rely on their Spell Checker:-

Eye halve a spelling chequer,
It came with my pea sea,
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rarely ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it
I'm shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect in it's weigh,
My chequer tolled me sew.

The Offside Rule Explained for Ladies

This is to help with the world cup preparations so you can talk with knowledge

You're in a shoe shop, second in the queue for the till. Behind the shop assistant on the till is a pair of shoes which you have seen and which you must have.

The female shopper in front of you has seen them also and is eyeing them with desire.

Both of you have forgotten your purses.

It would be totally rude to push in front of the first woman if you had no money to pay for the shoes.

The shop assistant remains at the till waiting.

Your friend is trying on another pair of shoes at the back of the shop and sees your dilemma. She prepares to throw her purse to you.

If she does so, you can catch the purse, then walk round the other shopper and buy the shoes.

At a pinch she could throw the purse ahead of the other shopper and, whilst it is in flight you could nip around the other shopper, catch the purse and buy the shoes, always remembering that until the purse had actually been thrown it would be just plain wrong to push in front of the other shopper.

Not difficult to understand at all!

The Tax Inspector

At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the books of a synagogue.

While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said: "I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?"

"Good question," noted the Rabbi. "..but we save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles."

"Oh," replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer.

But on he went, in his obnoxious way: "What about all these biscuit purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?"

"Ah, yes," replied the Rabbi, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question.

"We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send a free box of holy biscuits."

"I see," replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Rabbi.

"Well, Rabbi," he went on, "what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?"

"Here, too, we do not waste," answered the Rabbi. "What we do is save up all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about once a year they send us a complete nob."