>”Hi, everyone, my name is Niff.”

“Hi, Niff!”

“It’s been 36 hours since my last act of complete and senseless stupidity…”

(applause…)

“It’s been a challenge, not succumbing to fits of daft-ishness over the last two days, but I believe with enough determination and support from my family I can get through this and emerge victorious and not lose control over the dark little imps trying to seize control of the logic centers of my brain thereby permitting me to epitomize the definition of insanity.”

(looks of pity intermingled with fleeting hints of abject horror…)

So, yeah…stupidity hangover.

Stupidity hangovers are usually a result of a whole night’s – and even as far back as the entire day’s – indulgence in acts and behaviors of complete and total irrationality and stupidity which, despite your very best efforts to curtail, you feel a compulsion to act upon and in doing so, cause yourself to awaken the next morning and with a hand to your head mumble, “why the fuck did I do that??

Stupidity hangovers commonly involve a Turret’s-style stampede of apologies the following day to those who were subject to the default system error in your head. For those who know you best (the poor bastards), this enthusiastic barrage of apologies will be nothing new. They will be accustomed to your maniacal rantings, and because they are true friends will just pet you on the head and say, “That’s okay, sweetie…we still love you.” The rookies to the game of cerebral vomit will, though slightly unsettled, regard you with the comfortable delusion that this was all just a result of PMS and as such, you are not truly committable and therefore safe.

The problem with the behaviors that incur the stupidity hangover is that they are not attributable to any consciousness-altering substances, i.e. alcohol, weed, LSD, Oreos…

The problem with the stupidity hangover is that it’s all you, baby. Every single morsel of word salad spewed forth from your lips was conjured, nursed, encouraged, and delivered by you and only you, with nothing but an “oops, my bad…” to offer as validation. No passing the buck here, you bubbling cauldron of common sense. You’re on your own.

So with the hangover in full swing, you spend the following day in agonizing remorse over the whole ordeal, promising yourself that this will never happen again, that you have the mental fortitude to shuffle all of your verbal waste into the little closet behind your parietal lobe. You are a changed person. You are the epitome of refinement and manners. You are in control. Invincible! GOD!

…and then…

**** says **** about **** and you can’t stop yourself from interjecting with **** and you just-couldn’t-keep-your-mouth-shut-could-you!!!!

sigh.

Did I mention something earlier about the definition of insanity?

So, boys and girls, what have we learned?
The conclusion I have come to is this:
If you feel yourself entering a place that is giving you the slightest inkling that you may indeed begin to have thoughts of…
(wait, it is the complete lack of thought which causes the problem in the first place, so nevermind…)
Let’s just say if the potential for stupidity is imminent, get completely shit-faced immediately. No hesitation. Whatever you have to do to get there, just do it. I’m talking MGD-esque moments of desperation here, people. My reasoning (yeah, nice…now I’m able to reason…) is simple: you now have an alibi. An excuse. Exemption.

So go fucking ape-shit with your stupidity. Use it. Spread it like wildfire. Piss people off. If it’s your thing, run at the mouth with as many sexist jokes and ethnic slurs you can come up with. Drop-kick a poodle. Slash the tires of those who think the “Baby on Board” signs are still a pretty nifty idea. Do a bit of research and throw in some classic ‘Yo Mama’ smack for good measure. Enjoy your hebetude*. Live!

* ‘ts coo…I had to look it up, too.

voulez-voulez-vous hebetude.