There is a special sort of hang over that comes from drinking an entire bottle of liqueur in the morning, eating a bag of marshmallow, sending out a rather drunken email notification of your cat's death, passing out and then moving on to port and Chinese food upon regaining consciousness.
I don't recommend it. Fabulous husband, having selected all day Frangelico milkshakes as his poison of choice (fill blender with chocolate ice cream, pour in Frangelico until liquid is halfway up, top up with chocolate milk and sauce and blend till frothy and deceptively tastey) seemed to fair a little better. I'm beginning to suspect marshmallows aren't actually food.
The word for the weekend is Kummerspeck: German for grief bacon, literally the excess weight gained from emotion-related overeating. How fortuitous Taste of the Danforth is on.