a slight nauseous feeling

Here we see either the glam/screechy voiced metal-ish band Dio or a group of war veterans - it's hard to tell.

First of all I would like to thank Old Hits From the Bong for his astute commentary. Nobody knows how to get to the heart, or the spleen, of a matter like him. And since sometimes I feel he is the only one reading my drivel, I am doubly grateful.
What I would like to talk about at the moment is those bony inhabitants of everyone's closet, the skeletons. Everyone has these fellows lurking about, and as a man who has given more than his fair share of support to the good people at Bacardi, Tanqueray, Stolichnaya, Captain Morgan, Kokanee, Heineken, Becks, Stella, Southern Comfort, Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Molson, Labatts, Carlsberg, Cuervo, and just about every wine producer in the world to name just a few, I have many foolish moments in my past. Just thinking back on them can give rise to a slight nauseous feeling.
So when a pair of well meaning friends in a different time zone ring up drunk as skunks on a Tuesday as I am enjoying my morning coffee and Euro News, and ask me to actually re-live one of these moments and perform an air-guitar version of Dio's "Hungry for Heaven" over the internet like some kind of trained seal, I must respectfully decline. Sometimes the past can only be revisited through a conduit provided by one of the fine beverage purveyors listed above.
So for Old Hits From the Bong, fans of shitty heavy metal, and masochists, here is possibly one of the worst songs of all time.