Last night was great until things inevitably turned ugly. Maybe it was the thai whiskey, the wine, a piece of undercooked chicken. Perhaps all of the elements combined to the ultimate overt purge of my digestive system. At one point I awoke clad only in my boxer shorts staring skyward in my front yard. Then a brief respite on the cool kitchen floor until the pattering of feline feet forced a move to the couch. Later, the sublime inner chill of antique pink tile on the bathroom floor sadly brought little relief to my fever of overindulgence.