A recently-single man who has attempted to drink his way out of three consecutive hangovers is tonight suffering an attack of the grog horrors, as the metaphorical brake-light of Sunday bed time catches up with him.

As his mind races to unlikely hypothetical situations that could essentially ruin his life if they were to come to fruition, the 27-year-old construction manager is yet to connect the dots between his extremely large weekend and his current state of dysphoria.

“Should I have tried harder to keep her” he mutters to himself.

“Does my boss know that I actually got signed off from the TAFE course three months ago?”

“Why did I stay out that late. Hardly anyone was there when I left”

The Grog Horrors, also known as The Fear in Ireland, is described by the Oxford Dictionary as the ominous feeling of heightened personal or collective uneasiness induced by altered states of consciousness (due to drugs, alcohol or gambling) – it is most common in the days after unexpected and unbudgeted weekend blow-outs that can last right up until the bartedender’s begin cleaning the beer lines on a Sunday night.

“What did I say to that Rachel’s friend last night? She left straight after I spoke to her”

With his laptop now playing rather dark true crime videos from Youtube, it is also clear that Monday won’t feel too much better, due to how pissed he currently is.

“ahhh shit” he says.

“Maybe I should open up a gym membership”


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