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Post your DISASTROUS DRINKING experiences -

Old 01-07-05, 02:30 AM
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Post your DISASTROUS DRINKING experiences -

Inspired by skiblet's now-famous "post your DISASTROUS DATE experiences" thread, mopower and I came up with the idea of a "post your DISASTROUS DRINKING experiences" thread. Hopefully, in this thread, your stories won't end up with you paying 500 dollars child support to some Mexican babe. Here's the first one of my favorites:





FARE THEE WELL…AND BY THE WAY…NICE FACE
Part One

In May of 2003, my apartment in Iowa City was starting to look a little bare. I was about to leave for the warmer, more humid climate of Augusta, Georgia. I had to attend my Signal Officer Basic Course there, so I was about to vacate the premises forever.

I realized, too late, that I’d have to give up my Back To The Future Trilogy display stand where I stored my movies. That was probably the biggest loss in moving. I still miss that damn thing. I had begun to box up my movies, my video games and my clothes, so, as I said, the place was beginning to appear sparsely decorated.

On this day, though, Friday, May 30, 2003, I was not continuing along my packing path. I was planning on one last hurrah in my old digs. I was throwing a party.

Parties at the Seth-pad really weren’t all that exciting. For some reason, even though I’d invite everyone I knew, not many people would show up. One of my main problems lie in the fact that I lived too far off campus. When my fellow ROTC-ers would throw a shindig, they’d get at least forty people. In retrospect, though, I’m glad I wasn’t
that popular. My place wasn’t that big.

The biggest party I threw ended up being the last one. My cousin Jayme, my cousin Jason, my friends Donnie and Bill and, of course, mopower, all showed up. I bought a pony keg of Bud Light, and left it chilling in a tub of ice water as I rustled up some buffalo chicken ranch sandwiches, lasagna, garlic bread and my world-famous cheese/bean/salsa/hamburger chip dip. Unfortunately for me, this marathon of cleaning, cooking and preparing left me with a mean headache. I felt like shit, and the party was going to start in a couple of hours. I didn’t have time to take a nap, though.

So, I suffered through it and continued working until my first guest arrived. mopower showed up around four thirty. I let him in, and he went to watch a movie, but my VCR wasn't hooked up. Now, before you judge me on that, realize that I'd been loathe to make the change to DVD, initially, because I owned, still own, actually, over 450 VHS cassettes. My mom used to buy them at the pawn shop for three dollars instead of renting them, and then she'd send them to me. "Why'd you unhook the VCR?" he asked.

"It's started eating tapes. You'll have to use the one in the TV, if you want to watch anything."

"No, that's all right," mopower said. "Later, we'll have to throw this bitch off the porch," he joked. I lived on the third floor, and I had to laugh at the mental image of my trusty old VCR smashing against the ground 25 feet below.

Donnie, my neighbor/prison guard from across the street, showed up at about five o’clock. "Hey, man, where's the beer?" he asked, with a giant stein in his hand. I told him the pony keg was on the porch. We went out there, and attempted to tap this mother fucker. Now, amazingly, I'd never tapped a keg before. Breaking my cherry on this monster didn't prove to be easy, either. After about forty minutes, we got the tap attached, and foamy beer was flowing. I went to change, and finished up my culinary designs.

Bill showed up, and Donnie, mopower and he had their own little conversation going while I set out the food. Even though they'd been there before, my cousins, who couldn't remember how to get to their own post office, called and needed directions to my place, so I went outside and flagged them off the road. Finally, the six of us were together. Let the party begin.

Jayme had brought his own tapper, so we were able to get beer with a little less foam, but it still wasn't great, considering how many times we'd shook it up, trying to get that first tapper on there. But, we started using a pitcher, and, all in all, we had some pretty good brew.

Now, I had started getting a headache at about one that day, so I'd taken aspirin. It was six o'clock, now, and the aching hadn't subsided. But this was MY going away party. We ate, and I hoped that would help. It didn't. I tried drinking, but it just wasn't working. By about eleven, I wanted to go to bed.

Jayme said, "Man. What a wimp. This is the worst party ever." For some reason, this pissed me off, and I yelled at him. That snapped it. Suddenly, my headache was completely gone. It was crazy. Probably one of the most insane turn of events that has ever happened to me. So, I guess, at 11, the party officially began.

The six of us went outside, and Donnie held up the bottle of Jim Beam I bought. "Here's to Seth. You're like a brother, man. I don't know about these fuckers, but I'm gonna miss ya. So, we're gonna pass this bottle around, and let's all take a hit...to friendship." Donnie meant well, but a lot of times he made speeches that, while supposed to be genuinely moving, fell flat. The rest of us were standing there, thinking,
What the fuck? but no one ever said anything. His heart was bigger than his brain, and he is one of the truest comrades I've ever had.

The bottle was passed, and everyone, or so I thought, drank deeply from the amber waves of grain.

The next event in this marathon of inebriation, was the bong. My newly renovated beer bong had been taken out of the cabinet, and Donnie was trying to teach mopower how to use one. I said, "Listen, you just open your throat, and it all flows down. Here, let's time it." Only Jayme had a watch, so he came out as the official timekeeper.

So, my good friend mopower tried it, and had an outstanding time...of thirty-six seconds. "That's pathetic!" I told him. "Here, let me show you how it's done..."

"No, no...let me go first," Donnie insisted.

"Okay," I relented. He filled it up, and Jayme finally gave the signal to start downin' it.

"Eighteen seconds," was the final time.

"Man, you guys really don't know how to bong beer," I admitted. "Fill this thing up, I'm gonna go take a piss." I left, and came back to a waiting funnel.

"Okay," Jayme said. "Go."

Six seconds later, it was all in my stomach. "Oh, fuck!" Donnie said.

Twenty seconds later, I was bent over the deck, expelling all of it from my stomach. "Damn, that burns. What the hell was in that? Must've been too foamy." I was a little lit at the time, and it wasn't until the next day that they admitted to dumping about 1/4 of a cup of Beam in the top of the bong. I never noticed, but apparently, my insides did. See, this is where it gets hairy for me. I don't mind drinkin'. I don't mind drinkin' a lot. But I do mind drinkin' more than I know about. If I'm unaware of how much I get (i.e. - spiked bong hits) then I get to doing some...weirdness.

So, we tamed down for a bit, and I received a phone call from Christine. I hadn't talked to her in a couple of months. See, Christine went out with my friend, Justin, for a while. She was hot as hell, but I didn't really like to associate with any of Justin's old flames. Justin, for one, never had protected sex, and he never went out with someone that he didn't already have laid. Unfortunately, I had an incredible rapport with Christine. I always thought she should have gone out with me, anyway. We connected on quite a few levels, whereas Justin only had sex. My brother once said women were attracted to him because, when you talk to him, you think,
There has to be something more to this guy. But there isn't. With Justin, what you see is what you get. Well, I talked with the J-man, and he gave me the green light.

"We were never really dating anyway," he said. I went out with her once, and she asked if she could stay at my place. I said, sure. When we got back from the club, she said she liked the song on the radio and wanted to sit and listen to it for a while. Idiotically, I now realize that she wanted to make out. I can never see these indicators at the time, though. So, I didn't make out with her, and she rescinded her offer to stay the night.

"I think I'll just go home," she said. Then, every time I'd call, she'd be busy. I didn't call for two months, but then I figured, what the hell, and left a message on her voice mail that I was having a going away party. "Hello," she said, back in the present.

"Hey," I answered, surprised. "What are you up to?"

"Not much," she admitted. "Are you having your party?" Donnie howled in the background. I couldn't have timed that better.

"Uh, yeah. Why? What's up?"

"Well, I have a friend here, and I was wondering if I could bring her over." Hell's yes. Especially if it's a woman. No need for more dudes at this fencing party.

"The more the merrier."

"Okay," she said. "See you soon."

"All right. Bye." To ease the expectation I can almost feel electronically, I'll tell you now. She never showed up. I don't know why. It's a conundrum I still ponder to this day. Why, if she didn't want to go, she even called, I have no idea. Just add another notch to the never ending mind-fuck count. Well, at least my mentality gets laid.

Looking back now, I'm kind of glad she never arrived. The only way it would have ended worse was if she was there to bear witness to the events that follow.

I went to get a beer. "Shit," I said. "This thing's tapped."

"Well," mopower said, "let's go get another one." Hy-Vee was only a block away, so Jayme, mopower, Bill and I went down and got another pony keg. Those three paid for this one, but I still paid the deposit, due to the fact that we'd just traded in the old keg.

We got back to the party, and the beer started flowing again. All was right as rain.

Donnie once again gathered us all on the porch for another round at the Beam bottle. When it came to me, Bill said, "You pink striper! Don't puss out. Hit that shit!" So, I filled my mouth with Beam, swallowed and then did it again. I almost felt like a true alcoholic, for a second. While I'd seen people do that in movies and Kenny Rogers' Jackass, I'd never done it in real life, so I added that to my list of accomplishments. It was rough, though.

Little did I know, this was all a set-up. See, Donnie and Bill had devised this great scheme in where the group of us would pass the bottle around. They'd all "tongue" the bottle, not drinking, while I, unawares, would be chugging alone. Under the guise of supposed "friendship", mind you. It was a divine practical joke. Depending on your point of view. We passed the bottle around the circle two more times.

That's where my memory ends.


*Part Two Forthcoming*

Last edited by DarkestPhoenix; 01-07-05 at 02:34 AM.
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Old 01-07-05, 03:20 AM
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Great story. Most of my drinking stories belong in Adult Talk.
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Old 01-07-05, 03:51 AM
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Unfortunately, I don't have any disastrous drinking experiences.


Perhaps I need to make some. I've still got my cache of alcohol...I just need someone to share the fun with.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:04 AM
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Got off work (TGI Fridays)
had some drinks at the bar (long island iced tea -- great when you're friends with the bartender)
went to a coworker's apt with other coworkers to drink more
drank a lot
someone pulled out a bowl
I yakked all over his bathroom




morale of the story: stay away from the weed when already drunk. My friends tell me I looked like ET when he was dying.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:15 AM
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Well.... I have one.

It was our departmental Xmas party. One of those things that starts out pretty tame and by the end of the night, you can't remember where you work. Well, the department had rented a big room at a club - one of several in a row (which becomes important later). It was nice, our own private bar and a DJ, the works. At the beginning of the night we all got 2 free drink coupons. It was a mostly my boyfriend at the time and a friend and I just hanging out, eating appetizers, and sipping some wine, being good normal people.

Come about 9:30 or 10:00, the old(er) folks start heading home. They notice we're still just sitting around the bar talking and we become a collection pot for free drink coupons that people hadn't used. By around 10:30 most of the people over the age of 35 had departed (and most of the people I would be embarrased to be intoxicated around had left). We had a giant pile of pink drink coupons.

Now, my ex-boyfriend was an ex-collegic rugby player and about 6' and 230, real stocky build. He could put the alcohol away. As some of the otters know, even though I'm a smaller sized female, I can still put it away pretty good myself. So, considering that we had almost unlimited free drinks, we decided to have a drinking contest. Bad idea. The DJ notices that we are starting to slam down shots of Jager like there is no tomorrow and starts announcing our drinking contest play-by-play. As most males in a similar situation would do, he started making fun of the ex-boyfriend, saying he was going to get drunk under the table by a girl, etc. We we continue drinking heavily - the people that are still around watching and cheering and keeping tabs on us. The DJ keeps everyone riled up.

Next what happens is probably like a wet dream to most men on this forum... 2 decent looking chicks from a different party down the hall decide to crash our party. Fine, cool, whatever. They start dancing out on the dance floor and the bar tender gives them some free drinks (he was kind of liquored up at this point too). They start going nuts. And stripping. The next thing we know there are two chicks in the middle of the dance floor with their dresses around their ankles going bezerk. They weren't quite feeling each other up, but there was only 1 guy (the DJ!!!) between the two of them...

Anyways, everyone who had previously been watching the drinking contest now was watching the atrocity on the dance floor. Bras come flying off and their dresses end up in the corner. So now they are dancing around in their stockings and undies. We are laughing our asses off, but we have almost depleted our coupon stash and the bottle of Jager. We decided that we didn't want to see what happened next and took our leave.

My friend have been the D.D. and she was asking me if I was okay. I was like "SURE!" and started doing cartwheels to prove I was fine. And actually - I was considering the atrocious amount of alcohol I'd consumed. I mean... I was fine until I got into her car.

Now my friend LOVES her car. It was a Honda Accord, but it was hers and she babied it and waxed it every weekend. She threw me in the front seat and told me to behave myself. I was almost home when it hit me. We're flying down the freeway and I realize I'm not going to make it. Being the good friend I am, I roll down the window and stick my head out the window and let the shit fly - proud that I didn't just yack right between my knees. I spend the last 5 minutes of the drive with my head out the window yacking all the way back to my house. I apologize profusely and get out of the car, only to see that all of my barf has blown back in through the window and COVERED her backseat with a strange dark brown/slightly red substance. My boyfriend had been sitting beside the driver's side and never noticed. It looks like someone had been murdered in her back seat.

To conclude, I ended up on the bathroom floor for the rest of the night and will no longer engage in drinking contests with men twice my size. And I ended up buying her like $100 bucks worth of car wash coupons to make up for it.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:26 AM
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A friend of mine passed out on his front lawn and shat himself. Funniest thing ever.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:27 AM
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Nothing can be worse than what happened to those dudes in Atlanta about a month ago.

2 guys driving home one sticks his head out the window to puke, and the driver runs up on the curb hitting the telephone pole support wire and decapitating his buddy. Yet he's so loaded he doesn't notice and drives home and falls asleep. Only to be woke up by the police the next morning.

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Old 01-07-05, 09:27 AM
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Two weeks before I got married and went out with a couple of friends from work. Started drinking numerous gin and tonics. Had about 7 or 8 before we went to the next bar right across the street. Had a few more gin and tonics and was feeling pretty good. A "friend" of mine gets me a pint of water (really ALL gin) that I jug. Needless to say I don't really remember much after that. Later a friend told me he sent me home in a cab. I proceeded to puke in the cab and the driver pulled over, let me out and took all the cash I had in my wallet (about $300). I then remember passing out on the side of the street and having an abulance pick me up. Woke up the next morning in the NYU downtown hospital and walked home. Slept to around 4pm then went to work to get some stuff done. Haven't touched gin since that night.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:30 AM
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Originally Posted by charlie bucket
A friend of mine passed out on his front lawn and shat himself. Funniest thing ever.
So far I like this story best. Nice and short.
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Old 01-07-05, 09:48 AM
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No, no, no, no and no. Oh my gosh no.

But because of my DISASTROUS DRINKING experience, I know longer touch the stuff and that's probably a good thing.
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Old 01-07-05, 11:12 AM
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High School: First real dabble in alcohol. I'm at a party and sitting with friends playing cards, munching on a bag of doritos while drinking miller lite. I'm a lightweight (as I later discover) and after about 4 beers which I consumed pretty quickly, I go and kind of pass out in the living room. I come-to a little while later and my friends walk me quickly to the bathroom, I guess I had that "look" on my face. Sure enough, they come to check on me about an hour later and see I had covered the ENTIRE bathroom with doritos and beer. Talk about a nasty hang over! As far as doritos go, those suckers are rough coming back up!

Fast forward to two years ago: Drinking at a bar with friends and playing pool in the dead of summer. It is really HOT in this bar, no A/C which they do so you'll buy more drinks. We'll I guess I was pretty thirsty because I sucked down about 4 vodka cranberries in a pretty short time, and then it hit me and out the door I went and proceeded to puke all over High Street and cars were honking at me as they drove by. So my friend drove me home in his brand new corvette and felt the need to play speed-racer so he could laugh at me all the way home. Half way there I said "pull over, now"! Then I proceeded to puke on a neighbor's lawn. Needless to say, I pay close attention to how much I consume since I have such a low tolerance.

There have been a few others, but some things are best left unsaid.
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Old 01-07-05, 11:46 AM
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Why did you have to bold my name? And have you ever heard of capitalization bitch?
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Old 01-07-05, 11:48 AM
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Originally Posted by Mopower
Why did you have to bold my name? And have you ever heard of capitalization bitch?



uhmmm, .... because he loves you ?
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Old 01-07-05, 12:02 PM
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one time in the army i was getting drunk with a lot of people when i had to puke. i ran down the barracks hallway to the bathroom dripping puke out of my mouth the whole time. Once there I somehow ended up naked hugging the porcelain god. someone who was sober mopped up the puke after me.
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Old 01-07-05, 12:08 PM
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FlameBall was invented one night. It was epic, but I think you had to be there.

Last edited by NotThatGuy; 04-13-09 at 09:26 PM.
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Old 01-07-05, 12:35 PM
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The night before my 22nd b-day these 2 girls i worked the night shift with stopped by and brought me a bottle of tequila. We do a few shots and they take off. I was only in Baltimore for 3 months at this time and didn't have any friends in the area so i start calling my college buddies. They each egg me on to do a shot for them. Another note is that i don't smoke but there was over a half-pack of cigarettes at my apartment a friend left behind. I think i did 2 with the girls and 6 on the phone when it all goes black.

I wake up the next morning, on the floor. 2 of my chairs are smashed and the shower curtain is ripped down. i am wearing different clothes. All of the cigarettes are smoked or were lit and left to burn out. There is about an oz of tequila remaining in the bottle.

I check my answering maching and have a few calls from friends checking on me, i also have 3 from this chick i went out with once who liked me but i wasn't into. To make a long story short I was apparently 'singing sweetly' to her before i dropped the phone and it stayed busy until the phone lost it's charge. She convinsed herself that me singing while drunk equated w/ love and i had a hard time the next 3 months with her until some married guy knocked her up and bought her a trailer.

Also i am the sickest I have been from drinking. I cannot move w/o feeling nauseous. I do not go to my parents' or out on my b-day because i am so sick. I cannot stomach straight tequila to this day.

Moral of story: Do not drink tequila alone!
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Old 01-07-05, 12:41 PM
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I had some friends over a while ago, and we decided to have some fun trying out new shots. I've got a ton of different kinds of liquer, so we got out my laptop, went to one of those bartender sites, and just started making anything it suggested. I was the guinea pig. After everyone left, I finally realized I drank way too much, and if I didn't stay up and drink a lot of water, I was going to be sick. So the first thing that came to my mind was "I should watch some porn!" So I'm sitting on my couch in the living room with my glass of water, watching porn on the big screen TV, and pass out after maybe 5 minutes.

Wake up an hour or two later running to the bathroom to puke. I was so close to lifting the lid on the toilet, but didn't quite make it. I sprayed vomit all over the toilet, then passed out on the bathroom floor.

The next day I wake up around noon, and notice that the porn is still playing (auto repeat, I guess). Then I realize I left the picture window in the living room wide open, so I just gave the whole neighborhood an 8 hour gay porn extravaganza. And to top it off, while cleaning up the vomit, I broke the lid to the toilet, and had to buy a whole new tank (because they don't sell the lids seperately).
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Old 01-07-05, 12:54 PM
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This one's about a good friend of mine, let's call him "Paul". We were at a party at a dorm of a local university, and we started to drink. "paul" is somewhat of an problem drinker, not in the alchoholic sense, but in the sense that there will be some sort of problem when he drinks. Now early in the evening paul starts to hit on some chick she seemed to dig him, but she left to go downtown to the bars, and paul one month shy of 19 had to stay.
A little while later paul decides he needs to lay down, we took him to an empty room and put him on a bed and told him "if you need to use the bathroom it's two doors down on your left" then we went back to the party. About an hour later the guy whose room we put paul in came home and told us to move him cause he needed to sleep, by that time paul was out to the world, so we picked him up and put him in another room. Now the important part here is that the bathroom is no longer two doors down on the left, as fate would have it that door belonged to...you guessed it the hot girl paul wanted.
The next morning we were driving home and all we could smell was shit, with 5 people crammed into a ford fiesta it was impossible to tell who it was coming from. We dropped paul off and went for breakfast, then my cell phone rang, it was paul, "dude, I don't know what happened but I think I shit my drawers". He had poo all smeared in his undies. Then I got another call, it was the guy who invited us to the party, "I don't know who did it, but someone shit all over Jessica's chair".
So after deduction over breakfast, we came to the conclusion that in a real messed up state, paul got up and went two doors down and to the left and in his disoriented state sat down on the first thing that resembled a toilet, and proceeded to relieve himself.
We never ratted him out, but we were never invited back to any of their parties. And for the next few years paul had to live with the nickname "The Midnight Shitter".
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Old 01-07-05, 01:18 PM
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Old 01-07-05, 02:56 PM
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omg
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Old 01-07-05, 03:00 PM
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I woke up one morning this last summer on a bed with 5 people, a broken finger, and blood on my jeans. And no recollection of any of it.
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Old 01-07-05, 03:16 PM
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I mentioned it here before, but while in portland, alone for work, I went to a bar, then a club, then a freaky after-hours club, then I woke up in Gresham
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Old 01-07-05, 03:41 PM
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Old Grand Dad.

I was sixteen and while I had dabbled in beer consumption, and maybe a little schnaaps here and there, I was still a whiskey virgin. This night changed all that. I had told my parents I had a "date" and was going to a movie and dinner with this girl Michelle. In reality, Michelle was just a friend, and a convenient cover story for my plan to go party with my friends. Michelle picked me up at 7pm and we immediately headed over to Joel's house.

They are already there drinking when we arrive, and i eagerly crack a brew, basking in how grown up and mature I am. I don't recall how many beers I had before my friend Brian and I find ourselves sitting at the kitchen table with a fresh bottle of Old Grand Dad bourbon in front of us. Everyone else seemed to have disappeared, or perhaps we had tunnel vision for the glorious amber forbidden nectar. This was whiskey, and we were men dammit!

We crack the seal and do a shot. it burns, but that's okay. we do another a couple of minutes later, and this one is a little better. Brian decides that what we need is a chaser. He rummages through the fridge and comes back with a jar of strawberry jam, sticks two fingers in, takes a big pull from the bottle, and inserts his jam-laden digits into his mouth as a chaser. "It's sweet!" Sweet indeed. I quickly follow suit, laughing hysterically at the entire process. Now as I said, I had never drank liquor before, my only experience having been with a few beers. According to my math, there couldn't be more than 6 beers in one bottle of whiskey, so although it was of course stronger, it was probably like a twelve pack, and we were splitting it, so no big whoop.

My math was very very very wrong. we finished the bottle in less than an hour, and within 30 minutes I was in the bathroom puking my guts out. violently. Unfortunately, in addition to whiskey, the only food i'd consumed was a can of spaghetti-os and the jam...so it was red, very red, and riddled with undigested o's - some of which thought it would be quicker to exit via my nasal passages. i could feel them up there when the wretching stopped - well, I should say: paused. I grabbed some tissue and blew hard, and looked to see about 5 o's staring back at me in a mess of bile and jam. It was like a sad reminder that I had failed miserably in the drinking olympics. I was an imbibing Mary Decker Slaney.

My good friend Brian was Zola Budd. He looked fine. too fine. Apparently, he was faking on half the shots. He is laughing as he tells me this, and i immediately need to vomit yet again, this time out the sliding glass door. I continue to do this every so often for the next hour or so, coming too around 11:30 and realizing that I had to be home in half an hour. I was twenty minutes from home, and still very drunk. I was also alone.

It appears my friends, michelle included, had decided like all right-thinking drunk teenagers that they should go for a ride in the car. Brilliant! I heard them pull away. Then silence. I go outside and they are just gone. I look at my watch and it is now 11:40. No one in sight. I'm fucked. I stumble into the house and decide that the jig is up, i'm toast, might as well get it over with. I'm going to call my parents to come get me.

I dial the first three digits, thinking frantically about my cover story. It was a rotary dial phone, which I thank the good lord for existing to this day, because the seconds it took to watch each number click down saved me. 9........4.........6......2......7.....7..... I know, i'll tell them Michelle and I got in a fight and she ditched me. Why were we here anyway? Just stopped by to say hi and no one was home....yeah, that's the ticket. Then i can pretend to be all sad and they'll feel sorry for me! okay...one more number to go....ugh.....here goes.....my finger slips into the '0' slot and brings it around. Just as i'm about to let it go, My drunken idiot friends reappear in the driveway. I slam the phone down, run outside and am set to yell at them when Brian says: "Dude, aren't you supposed to be home now?"

The answer was of course yes, dumbass. I got in the car and Michelle apologizes profusely. She gets me home just a bit late, although i'm still pretty much trashed. I walk in praying to god that my parents are in bed, but of course, dad is up waiting dutifully. He was watching the weather channel, a favorite past time when his children were out. He worried. Never mind that it was july. I sit at the farthest end of the couch sitting at a right angle from the loveseat he is in, trying to maintain at least a ten foot buffer. I manage to do so idly for a few minutes, as long as I think i need to in order to raise no suspicion, and announce i'm going to bed. So does dad. He bounces up and is now right behind me. In retrospect, of course he knew from the moment I walked in. He was no teetotaller. He also probably had a little fun practically pushing me up the stairs and letting me think I was getting away with it. Of course, the punishment that would be crushing my skull for the next 24 hours was plenty enough, which would probably explain why the only thing he said as I stumbled into my bedroom was: "Sleep tight partyboy."

And I never drank Whiskey again....well, okay, i did. But later.....much later.

Last edited by HistoryProf; 01-07-05 at 03:46 PM.
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Old 01-07-05, 03:43 PM
  #24  
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Join Date: Jun 2000
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Originally Posted by Blotto
This one's about a good friend of mine, let's call him "Paul". We were at a party at a dorm of a local university, and we started to drink. "paul" is somewhat of an problem drinker, not in the alchoholic sense, but in the sense that there will be some sort of problem when he drinks. Now early in the evening paul starts to hit on some chick she seemed to dig him, but she left to go downtown to the bars, and paul one month shy of 19 had to stay.
A little while later paul decides he needs to lay down, we took him to an empty room and put him on a bed and told him "if you need to use the bathroom it's two doors down on your left" then we went back to the party. About an hour later the guy whose room we put paul in came home and told us to move him cause he needed to sleep, by that time paul was out to the world, so we picked him up and put him in another room. Now the important part here is that the bathroom is no longer two doors down on the left, as fate would have it that door belonged to...you guessed it the hot girl paul wanted.
The next morning we were driving home and all we could smell was shit, with 5 people crammed into a ford fiesta it was impossible to tell who it was coming from. We dropped paul off and went for breakfast, then my cell phone rang, it was paul, "dude, I don't know what happened but I think I shit my drawers". He had poo all smeared in his undies. Then I got another call, it was the guy who invited us to the party, "I don't know who did it, but someone shit all over Jessica's chair".
So after deduction over breakfast, we came to the conclusion that in a real messed up state, paul got up and went two doors down and to the left and in his disoriented state sat down on the first thing that resembled a toilet, and proceeded to relieve himself.
We never ratted him out, but we were never invited back to any of their parties. And for the next few years paul had to live with the nickname "The Midnight Shitter".
LMAO
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Old 01-07-05, 03:56 PM
  #25  
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Join Date: Sep 1999
Location: Memphis, TN
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I would like to post my many and various stories, but I'm afraid that I just don't have the time.
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