Like I'd mentioned at the end of my last entry, I owed the opposing team in a best of three volleyball match some beers. What I had gathered from the conversation strewn about was that I was to owe, apon my demise, a beer to each member on the other team of three.
May I add here that I was playing against freaks. I'm certain that Tai (his name, not Tai from Thai, but from Cambodia but lives in Thailand) was as freakish as the freaks come. He was, at best, in the 5'6", 125 lb range and I'm sure he could jump clear over the net if he so felt like it. I mean, it's weird. Other freaks I'm sure, look at him puzzlingly and say "Damn, that kid is a freak." King of freaks.
Let's carry on.
Like I'd previously mentioned, a commitee (at which I wasn't a part of) was ironing out the agreement of the match. The following countries were represented, all yammering about in "english;" South Africa, Spain, Thailand, Cambodia, Israel, and a Yugoslavian blooded, Swiss born, Austrian. Yeah figure that shit out. I tried. Not worth the effort.
What I heard was "shla blackerd blach shizen unst arrroight unsten boogen tres, Dan you are homosexual, No?" So it was settled. Apparently.
I lost. I bought beers, allegedly you only needed to buy one. Not a big deal at a dollar and a half. I drank some too. Not a lot though, which led to my confusion the nexty day.
Simply put, I felt like a bag of garbage that had been peed on by 97 stray cats. I assume similar to how the girls feel the morning after Brian has taken them home. I looked like hell and it felt like my head was in a vice and it progressively got worse throughout the day. I really didn't think I was drunk enough the night before to warrant what felt to be the second worst hangover I've ever had. (Joe is at fault for my worst ever. Surprise.) I was absolutely out of commission. My aches were brutal, my head was crushingly painful, I puked on the beach and oddest of all, I had aquired a chill. Not uncommon for a Canadian. Very uncommon for a Canadian in Thailand who sweats while he thinks. The temperature was at least 35 and I was cold?
Jennie, being the beautifully forethinking person that she is, had stashed a thermometre in our first-aid kit. After several minutes of near-domestica disputing about whether or not the thermometre was of the anal or oral variety I caved. Trusting her it was oral and had never once been used rectally, I used it. It displayed at 101.8 and then 101.9Needless to say I've been sleeping, drinking water, puking etc. all day and I can't remember a time where I've felt this terrible. I plan to visit the clinic or hospital in Bangkok in 2 days time.
Julio San-Chen will have to take care of me. He will make sure I drink my water and take my medicine. He's so caring.