Sunday torture is fine

Yeah, I know that “Sunday morning” feeling well. Last night you were Superman, leader of the pack drinking everyone else under the table. But this morning, well, even the fridge light is so bright you need sunglasses to look inside that mother…

And let’s not mention the fact it took over an hour to get out of bed – because, weirdly, it felt as if someone had tied your balls to your damn foot!

Now how the hell could that happen?