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This is sure to be my most unpopular opinion since “Burn Notice is the best television show of all time,” “John McCain was born in Panama and thus shouldn’t have been allowed to run for president,” and “Dylan and Cole Sprouse are the two best character actors of our generation.” Some may say that the mere fact that I hold the aforementioned viewpoints discredits everything I’m about to say about day drinking, but to them I say, “Explain the collapse of WTC Tower 7. You can’t? That’s what I thought.” I have only the best opinions, including this one:
Day drinking is overrated.
Day drinking is a staple of both the college and tailgate experiences, and puking in bar bathrooms after day drinking events are some of my fondest college memories. But day drinking’s hype is far greater than its delivery. Day drinking is presented as this mystical act that can do no harm. “Instead of being a productive and contributing citizen during the day like society expects of you, you are doing chest hole luges off your slightly deformed buddy’s cleavage, attempting to bring a girl back to your place at 1:38 p.m. despite the sunny outdoor conditions allowing for her to adequately see your ugly face and, after failing, eating Jimmy John’s at 3:55 p.m. There’s not even a name for a meal you eat at 3:55 p.m. Ha! Take that, establishment!!!”
While all that is true (except I call said meal “the pre-vomit stomach fill-up”), it neglects day drinking’s aftermath; the inevitable result I had to suffer through last night starting at 8 p.m. when I woke up from my passout — despite my numerous calls for a swift and merciful death — that happened as a result of going far too hard during the day at our “Saved By The Brunch” SXSW event/while watching the Badgers get hosed down by Michigan: the nighttime hangover.
Morning hangovers are annoying, yet surmountable. Nighttime hangovers, on the other hand, are ruthless harbingers of misery that won’t desist until they’ve drained you of everything that once made you a happy person. The darkness you’ll see outside — should you even be capable of mustering up the strength to do so — can’t even begin to mirror the darkness inside, though it’s a nice start. Morning hangovers allow for you to discuss the previous night’s idiocy while fraternizing with your friends in mutual discontent; they bring people together in that regard in what has become a morning ritual. Nighttime hangovers, on the other hand, are more divisive than an unwed mother aborting a transgender fetus. They relegate you to 3-1,000,000 hours of prime life-living time spent alone as you miserably lay in bed restlessly rolling around like you’re the super monkey ball in Super Monkey Ball or over the toilet like you’re the big dumb idiot main character in The Real Life Of Jared Borislow.
I sent that photo around 9 p.m. last night. That hangover ended up going away 2.5 hours later around 11:30 p.m., just in time for me to go back to sleep and wake up for work the next day! Yay! Day drinking made my day great from 10 a.m.-4 p.m., then completely ruined it from 8 p.m. on. The nighttime hangover caused by day drinking is like a living nightmare: it disrupts your sleep, leaves you wanting to be anyone and anywhere else, and can cause you to soil the bed in extreme circumstances. Morning hangovers blow, but they can’t compare to the misery of nighttime hangovers.
Day drinking is fun. The subsequent nighttime hangovers are not. That is why day drinking is overrated — the end doesn’t justify the means.
Don’t @ me..
Now let’s hear a counterargument. Read “Day Drinking Is The Most American Thing You Can Do” here.