Eating Is For Idiots: IV Everything
It’s a Monday night. Despite the wicked hangover from Sunday Night Shots, you’ve made it through your classes, and you’re on your way back to Kappa Sig house when your phone starts blowing up. Your brothers need you to pick up a few gallons of orange juice on the way home. You’d forgotten: Mimosa Monday. But oh no bro, you’ve got a 7 A.M class the next morning. Does this scenario sound all too familiar? If so, I’ve got some good news for you. Two words: Intravenous Rehydration.
We’ve all gotten too turnt and disregarded a friend’s advice to drink more water, right? That next morning is gnar. I saw some UFC news where fighters were swearing that IVs are the most efficient way to get hydrated. I figured, if it’s good enough for some full-time ass kickers, it’s good enough for me, know what I’m saying? So I found an IV service that makes house calls and called those bros right to Kappa house. They hooked me up to a sack with some vitamins and minerals and whatever and tapped that shit directly into my veins. Bro.
It was like, imagine if medicine could make you feel the way a Transformers movie does. It became my go-to hangover cure. No more mixing raw eggs with 5-Hour Energy and Sriracha sauce. I was all IV, all the time. I was partying harder, staying out later, and still feeling refreshed in the mornings. Intravenous rehydration was working such wonders, it got me wondering: Why don’t I take everything through an IV?
Fortunately, at this point, I was in pretty tight with my main drip man, Vance. I got him to hook me up with some extra bags, tubes, needles, all that good shit. It was time to take my IV game to the next level. That Friday night, there was a party at the Zeta Tau house. I know, I know, Zeta Tau, but a party’s a party. So after I smashed a kegstand (remember, “Beer before liquor, get drunk quicker”), it was time to bust out the new hotness. I poured a can of Red Bull in the bag and filled the rest with vodka. I hooked myself up, and it was LEGENDARY. It was the most trashed I’ve ever been! Vance couldn’t even believe how fucked up I was, the next morning. He was all like, “Bro, you need straight up detox, fam.” Classic Vance.
I raged every weekend, hardcore. I was never a lightweight, but my tolerance went up like hella. It got harder and harder to hit that sweet spot of knowing I had an epic night without remembering any of it. But one of the great things about the IV community is that it’s super tight-knit. So I was at a party with a fellow driphead (I came up with that), who spotted the hydration marks on my arms, and he asked if I wanted to party with him. I was like, “Uh, bruh, I’m already partying,” but he explained that he was into IV partying, and had some top-shelf stuff. I figured he meant Grey Goose or something, but he didn’t even use the whole bag and tube set-up. He’d just inject the stuff all at once, and let me tell you … It. Was. Awesome.
Since then, I’ve been doing as much of that top-shelf IV stuff as possible with my new bro. There are a couple of downsides, though. I’ve basically spent my whole allowance this month, and my dad seemed pretty pissed when I asked for more. And when you run out, the hangover is fucking brutal. Like, imagine how listening to NPR makes you feel, but also your skin is made of thousands of insects, and all of them hate you.
Overall, I give intravenous rehydration a solid four out of five.