Last Thursday, I woke up with the sad realization that I get hangovers now.
Before September, I was averaging one or even none a year. In the past three months, I've had three. Can't figure out why. Maybe my liver, who'd been considering a career change some time now, finally left to pursue his dream of becoming a documentary film maker. Maybe those pounding headaches in the morning aren't caused by alcohol, but by my girlfriend repeatedly punching me in the face while I'm sleeping (I snore louder after I drinks me some liquor.). Or maybe this is just God's way of telling me to move on to better things in life, like crystal meth.
It's a good thing they served grape juice at church during the Christmas Eve communion.
I know it's strange following that with something serious, but this is in regards to the aftermath of the tsunamis in Southeast Asia.
Granted it was shocking for me to see the disaster footage from Phi Phi island, where I'd visited in December of last year. One of the most beautiful places on earth had been turned into a muddy pile of debris and corpses. But mostly I was struck by what I saw in Sri Lanka, India and Indonesia. Virtually all of the victims were dirt-poor fishermen and their families, who were barely surviving to begin with. The waves not only stripped them of what little they had, it also took the lives of many of their children.
I know it's right after Christmas, and your bank accounts have taken a beating. But if you've got any money to spare, please click here to give what you can.
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