People who say hangovers are self-inflicted are the worst

There are two types of people in this world: the optimist and the pessimist; the fun-lover and the bore; the ones who love a good night out and the ones who tell you it’s your own fault the following morning as you pick gravy out your hair whilst watching your Snapchat story to work out what happened.

What is your purpose?

Why do certain people think that telling you that your current state of sickness, tiredness and general confusion is your own fault? Do they think that if I admit to that then all of a sudden all of my hangover symptoms will just disappear? Not a chance mate, you’re talking more rubbish than the taxi driver who tells you there’s no queue for Revs.

Is it criminal to have fun? 

I fully understand that hangovers are not a surprise occurrence the next day and they don’t exactly spring upon you out of nowhere – they usually follow about three trebles, four tequila shots and the consumption of a large pizza within 7 minutes (of which you won’t remember until you feel your burnt gums taking a sip of tea). However, this doesn’t mean that people should not sympathise with your pain – the majority of people have been in that same situation and they would have also wanted to throw their empty food box at the prick who comes into your room and laughs because your pain is “self-inflicted”. Next time you tell me that you’re vegan then I will tell you that your pale complexion and broccoli breath is self-inflicted.

The greater good

Is it really my fault that Revs offer six shots in one purchase? I mean, I am speeding up the queing process for the people behind me rather than make them look for a J2O or diet lemonade. It’s what a better person would do.

As Troy Bolton once said, “we’re all in this together”

It isn’t as if I am the only person in on the Kuda dance floor, pretending that I am fully coherent in screaming the lyrics at the top of my voice as if I’m about to get scouted for Britain’s Best Drunk Singing Model. Nights out are a true team effort – every group has to have the toilet supervisor, the bar queuer, the dancefloor holder and the one who can pull off looking sober to explain why one of the team is sitting on the floor chatting up a window pane.

Can’t you do something helpful?

Rather than criticise the state of my life (since I get enough of that from my family, supervisors, lecturers and taxi drivers), why don’t you make yourself useful and make me a cuppa? I would much more appreciate that instead of you making me feel guilty for losing £30 and my dignity.

Be thankful that I am socialising and pushing the boundaries of my liver – I wouldn’t call that self-inflicted, I would say that is strengthening.