Hangovers at 19 were easy peasy lemon squeezy, I’d hurt for an hour and then be back on my bullshit
Hangovers at 23 have me on my death bed for a whole day promising God that I’ll stop drinking if he takes the pain away haaha
picture this: it’s 2015. you’re blasting Jordan Belfort. taking pulls of pineapple vodka on a Wednesday. memorizing the zip code of your fake ID. you don’t care that you have class at 9am tomorrow. the country hasn’t gone into flames yet. life is blissfully good.