The Hangover

One casualty of the Christmas season is the endless array of parties. I have been to Christmas parties almost every night for the past two weeks. Booze is abundant in such parties. I have been lucky. So far I have yet to come home and awaken the next day feeling like someone drove a spike through the back of my head.

A lot of guys have their so-called cure for a hangover. Some resort to sweating it out in a steam bath or sauna. Others resort to exercise. Some even choose to take another swig of beer or wine.

What I realized that once you have a hangover, there is no turning back. You have to grin and bear it. Time is the only cure for a hangover. Your body needs to flush out whatever toxins you have imbibed. Rest plus lots of liquids, perhaps some aspirin and some vitamins, may help relieve the pain and assist in the recovery.

The trick is really to avoid the hangover.

Some go to extremes in trying to avoid a hangover, including taking a teaspoon of butter which they claim will line their stomach with enough oil and fat to counteract the alcohol. I have only found one way to minimize the chances of a hangover.

Do you notice that you pee more often when you drink? That's because alcohol blocks the creation of vassopressin. Without this chemical, your kidneys send water directly to your bladder instead of it being absorbed by your body. Studies have shown that you will dispel four times as much liquid as gained. So that dry mouth, nausea, and headache you feel is actually the result of dehydration. (Source)

So to avoid the hangover, you have to drink water. And lots of it.

Water.

Drink water while you ingest alcohol.

Drink water even if you aren't thirsty.

Drink water when you get home.

I always have bottles of water in my car. I also keep a bottle of water at my bedside. If you are lucky and end up in a motel, remember that motels also have complimentary bottles of water.

So drink water and be ready for the next party!

(Photo by psychedelicyaya)

Choices and Compromises

Last week, one of my reputable handlers emailed me his latest escort. She is a model and I was lucky enough to see her in person before I found out she was in the trade. She is ramp-model tall, slim, with a torso that tapered between curvaceous breasts and full hips. Plus she had those almond eyes that always draw me in.

She was pricey but not unreasonable for a model. Plus it was for two pops. I figured that there would be a catch and I figured that she would have that haughty and arrogant attitude that often accompanied beautiful models. But for two pops I was willing to gamble that my charms would at least break through that ice-princess demeanor.

The handler returned with some scathing feedback. He was disgusted with her attitude. He had arranged her with an important client and, at the last minute, she decided to change the arrangements. She changed the schedule and the meeting place, and, in the end, she backed out of the deal without even offering any apologies.

"Totally unprofessional," he said. "For that amount, you would be better off with..." and he gave the name of a model that had appeared in some soft-core exploitation flick and in a leading men's mag. This model, however, though admittedly pretty, was less of my type than the aforementioned beaut.

Hence the quandary i am in: an escort that is my type but with an unpredictable, if not pompous, attitude; or an escort who can bring an A-game but is not exactly my type.

Strangely, to the dismay of the handler (who had cracked that I must be a masochistic necrophiliac) and to my own surprise, I am still drawn to the ice princess. I may be rationilizing---or totally fooling myself---that maybe she had an off-day and that Maybe my charms can break the ice. Or maybe I just like a challenge sprinkled with a morbid curiousity. It may be a waste of time, or even a waste of the money to pay for the room, or I may garner the ire of a reputable handler. But if I do get her in bed, at best it can be a memorable tryst, and at worst I can still stick it to her for all her arrogance.

Motel Shot

Shot taken at Victoria Court at Canley. 

Sexbomb music video for the 2010 automated elections

One thing is for sure: I am not the target market for this music video. The lyrics are terrible. My brain refuses to retain the words and the beat. Their dancing is horrible. After just a few minutes I had to look away. Not even a sense of morbid curiosity could keep me glued to this video.

Not interested

There was this escort I wanted to try. I had seen her pics through a variety of sites. She had this sweet but feisty Asian look, pouty hamster cheeks, short hair that reminded me of those cutesy anime girls, and a curvaceous figure. I was able to track her down and get the number of her handler.

"How much?" I asked. "And what services does she provide?"

The handler said that her fee is P20k. Not bad, I thought. Except that the handler advised the catch: That's P20k for just one pop.

"How much for two pops?" I asked.

Double the fee, the handler said. P40k. The handler added that the escort will not take any less because she is an FHM model and a member of the Viva Hot Babes. I checked Viva's website and I didn't find her picture. I didn't bother checking FHM for lack of time.

As a comparison, I talked to my usual handlers for some comparison shopping. The FHM models in their lineups are at P25k with multiple pops. A young starlet who is a member of a recognized all-girl troupe charges P45k for multiple pops, and this starlet is quite well-known, having appeared in several men's magazines.

So I balked. I thanked the handler and advised that I was not interested. It was not solely because of the price. There was something about the escort's attitude that didn't sit well with me. There was an air of arrogance. Or is it pig-headedness? As if she was bestowing some special privilege for me spending some hours with her. I imagined her rushing me to finish the deed, acting smug and non-chalant about the affair. For P40k, there damn should be more than just a romp under the sheets!