Hangover Ratings

Bastille Day is a French drinking holiday.

The French word for hang-over is ‘gueule de bois’.

In Thai it is ‘hang’.

If I spoke to Caesar, I’d say that I was ‘crapula’ which is Latin for fucked up the day after, but no one put it better than Kingsley Amis, who once said, “I had a hang-over so bad, that I thought I was going antlers.”

Thursday night I went out drinking at the 169. I started with beer and finished with gin.

Ouch, so I know how Kingsley Amis felt and here’s a modern rating system for a hangover.

One Star Hangover (*)

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You’re able to function
relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 cokes and still feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak and fries.

Two Star Hangover (**)

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.

Three Star Hangover (***)

Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag, because her perfume reminds you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed watching Lucy reruns. You’ve had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 iced teas and a diet Coke — yet you haven’t peed once.

Four Star Hangover (****)

Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can’t speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can’t hide the fact that you only shaved one side of your face.

For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and even your hair hurts. Your sphincter is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who enters the bathroom.

Five Star Hangover (*****)

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You don’t have the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to defecate results in a fire hose like discharge of alcohol-scented fluid with a rare ‘floater’ thrown in. The sole purpose of this ‘floater’ seems to be to splash the toilet water all over your ass. Death sounds pretty good about right now….

This email comes thanks to Bryan La Boeuf

A brilliant artist and lover of fine things

Bastille Day Beauties

Candida en Corse.

Chez Gabby.

Karinne de Aix en Provence.

Katie 1984.


Mirabelle Le Bad.

We’ll always have Paris.

July 14, 1994 Bastille Day – East Village – Journal Entry

Another sweltering summer day with temperatures rising along with the tempers. No one remembers how cold the winter was. No one is talking about anything about other than the hot. At the Tompkins Square basketball court we are drowning our innards with water and juices and sweating out it as fast as we drink.

I am sticking with lemonade and watermelon, avoiding beers and Vodka-tonics since resuming the rewrite of NORTH NORTH HOLLYWOOD. The book is rolling along fine, although I can’t find the first twenty pages of the screenplay. I have to being losing my mind. I lose everything else.

Always thinking about my toy boat.

Left behind in Maine.

Like Chaney.

Come Celebrate Bastille Day at Chez Oskar’s 25th Anniversary

Come celebrate Bastille Day at Chez Oskar’s 21th Anniversary Celebration and their 3nd year in Bed-Stuy.

Our July 14th Brunch begins at 12 noon

We’ll fete ‘Liberte Egalite Fraternite’ throughout the day with fine food, great wine, song, and petanque.

From 7pm to 10 pm enjoy the enchanting music of Blue Dalhia – warm and joyous rhythm of reggae, ska and Latin American tempered by the sensual voice of jazz and French chanson.

Oskar’s old mural was about seeing Montmartre through Josephine Baker’s eyes. It’s time to bring Josephine into the conversation… now that we are turning 20!

Josephine Baker is an incredible inspiration… so is champagne!

Come have a blast with us!

Address: 310 Malcolm X Blvd, Brooklyn, NY 11233
Hours: 11AM onward
Reservations: opentable.com
Phone: (718) 852-6250

Bastille Day 1789

2 July 1789

The Bastille – Paris

The Marquis De Sade was in the stone fortress on charges of perversion.

In the afternoon a prisoner cried from his window.

“Ils tuent les prisonniers.”

The guards subdued the inmate, but his words sparked a smoldering rumor and the rumor spread through the poor neighborhood awaiting a match.

For his safety the Marquis de Sade was transferred to the insane asylum at Charenton.

Cut to:

14 July 1789.

A wine wagon overturned on the Rue de La Roquette.

The wine flooded the gutter. The people drank their full.

The Bastille loomed in the near distance, symbolizing the oppressive Ancien Regime of the Bourbon Dynasty.

Fortified by cheap wine the mob stormed the prison. Nearly 100 attackers were slain in the assault versus one defender before the deluge flooded through the gates to massacre nine soldiers and free seven prisoners; four counterfeiters, two madmen and a perverse nobleman, the Comte de Solages, jailed on charges of incest.

The Comte, 32 years a prisoner, returned to his homeland a stranger. He died in poverty and sleeps in anonymity, while the Marquis de Sade lives in our memory.

A bas la Bastille.

A bas le Ancien Regime.