Frankie

(Frankie) #1

GREASY FOOD


When I fi rst started drinking,
a friend’s father suggested we
should eat burgers and chips
the day after a party. His logic
was that the oil would “soak
up” any remaining alcohol in
our system. Now, I’m not a
medical expert, but surely 12
hours later the pre-mix mango
and vodka syrup would be out
of the stomach itself, and if
not, wouldn’t the oily potato
simply sit on top of everything,
creating some sort of horrible
toxic souffl é? The Dietitians
Association of Australia refused
to accept my hand-scrawled
requests for confi rmation,
so I tested it out myself. One
burger the size of my head,
one side of chips the size of
two heads (they were generous
servings), and a small vat
of tomato sauce, please. I
could feel my serotonin levels
spiking after just one bite. Did
my friend’s dad have a point?
How was I managing to eat all
those chips? Regardless of the
science, greasy food works. DF


HAIRY LEMON
I didn’t know Hairy Lemon
still existed. I thought it
disappeared in the ’90s,
along with guarana,
Berocca, No-Doz and two-
for-one pots of VB at the
pub on a Thursday night.
I bought the effervescent
tablets as though they were
a bottle of lube or laxatives


  • furtively, nervously, and
    defi nitely hidden in a paper
    bag. Maybe I thought I was
    too good for it or something,
    but I wasn’t too good for
    anything after a bottle of
    red wine and no dinner the
    night before. The lemon
    volcano in my glass made
    my saliva glands work
    overtime, the way they do
    before you vomit. I can’t
    say drinking it was much
    better, either. Was I on the
    mend? Probably not. But I
    managed to sweep the fl oor
    and change the sheets,
    which is no small feat on
    a sober day, let alone a
    hungover one. CC


BLACK COFFEE
I’d like to start with a sincere
apology, as this review makes
reference to a not-so-savoury
bodily function. Some call it
‘number two’; some write books
about it called Everybody Poops.
So, there it is. Hangovers in your
late 20s are more of a Day of
the Dead-style situation than a
casual headache – your whole
body screams at you, pleading
sweatily, “Why have you done
this?!” And you can only fl ail
your arms in the air, weeping
and whispering, “I do not know,”
at your blotchy, unwashed
face. Sundays are rough. You
need a purge. You need to rid
your body of any remnants of
happy hour, two-for-one shots
and mystery cocktails. Enter:
strong, black coffee. No sugar
(you don’t deserve any). Take a
sip and wait for the inevitable
bowel movement that follows.
It’s not a pleasant way to start
the day, but you’re one step
closer to ridding yourself of this
hangover. Godspeed, and again,
I’m sorry. DF

well-hung


IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE, DEIRDRE FIDGE


AND CARO COOPER TRY OUT SOME CLASSIC


HANGOVER CURES.


Illustrations Anjana Jain


PICKLES
I was a little confused
by this. Aren’t pickles a
pregnancy craving thing,
rather than a hangover
cure? With some googling,
I discovered the salt in the
juice is supposed to help
top up electrolytes in a
dehydrated, aching body.
It took a few minutes of
staring at the jar in the
morning before I felt ready


  • mentally and physically –
    to tackle the challenge.
    (If I’d had a chip butty to put
    the pickles in, I would have
    been more receptive to the
    tart, pungent burst.) The fi rst
    dill pickle was not fun, but by
    the time I fi nished my third
    I was getting into it... until I
    took a sip of the juice from
    the jar. Cue my pickle crash

  • I’d overdone it. The sight
    of the container suddenly
    made me queasy. I rinsed my
    mouth out and headed back
    to bed, the image of laughing
    green pickles dancing in
    my head. CC


road test
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