This is my excuse for posting on a Friday. I'm turning it over to you, dear readers. Every Friday I'll post a question and we can kick it around in the comments. Since, honestly, you know you aren't doing any work today anyway. Right?
So, since I seem to attract all the alcoholics (I wonder why?) let me ask you this:
What's the most drunk you have ever been? And, what were the consequences of that night?
OKgo.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
24 comments:
There are so many choices, I don't know which one would be considered most drunk. How about a list of the stupidest things I have done when drunk???
-kissed ugly people
-thrown up on a date on a bus
-sprained my wrist
-been sat on
-complimented my friend's vah-jay jay
-left a bar crying because my boyfriend had hugged someone
-made too many inappropriate phone calls to count
- drank ALL my parents booze and left them without a drop
-dropped a cigarette on my couch
-left it there
For me it's a tie.
July 7, 2007: That was the night I already wrote about, where I blacked out at 8:30 p.m., called everyone a fucker and woke up the next morning with numerous bruises and scrapes covering my body. The consequences were the loss of a girlfriend. Ha.
And then there was a wedding Labor Day 2003. It was my childhood friend who I hadn't seen in 14 years and it was quite emotional. I ended up drinking, conservatively, four bottles of red wine. The consequences: Puking all over the side of this girl's brand new Jeep Grand Cherokee. Now THAT was a fucking hangover.
SD, No, you have to pick the ONE time you were the most drunk. C'mon, don't be shy now.
Although, I will say this, I like your list. I may have to start a list of stupid things I've done while drunk. And, in related news, Blogger will need to acquire more server space.
fine. the time i puked on the date in the bus. he didn't want to go out with me again. although he did go to another formal a year later.
woot woot.
To answer two of your questions:
1) La Ebria means "the drunk" in Spanish. Mainly because "I'm apathetic about writing my dissertation and filling that void with alcohol and drug-fueled shenanigans that I am too hungover to write about so I write lazy blog posts" was just too long and a bitch of an acronym.
2) Probably the most drunk I've ever been...night I supposedly met the Prince of Kuwait. A combo of martinis (4 maybe?), shots, and beer later...I tried to defend my roommate's honor and accidentally started a fight.
La:
1) So, since I am a man, would I be Le Ebria? I no speaka da Spanish. (Wait, was that with an Italian accent? I think it was.)
2.) Um, yea, please expand on that.
1) I think...or Le Ebrio? Borracho works, too...and if you wanted to up the level I think "pinche borracho" might be "fucking drunk"
2) Let's see, it's a long one:
Have some martinis with a friend.
Next bar meet this "Prince of Kuwait" and his Serbian bodyguards. He's so fat I don't think he can see his own dick, but is flashing money around like crazy. At one point he starts poking me and commanding me to "Dance! Dance!"...I'm super pissed, so the next 8 drinks for me and my friends are all charged to him.
Now I'm drunk AND belligerent and head to a house party. More beer, more bad decisions.
Walk outside: roommate is crying while talking to the guy she is dating.
Me: "Stop fucking making her cry!!"...while pointing at him and waving my finger. I'm sooooo drunk, my depth perception leads me to POKE HIM IN THE EYE. (unintentional)
Him: "YOU FUCKING CUNT!"
Me: "Bring it motherfucker! I'll fucking take you down!!" (I'm rather small...he was not)
And then...it was time to go home...and I had to write an apology note the next morning for giving someone a bloodshot eye.
Ya know, I minored in Spanish in undergrad, yet whenever I get plastered I can't get "I'm drunk" ("soy boracha") correct. Go figure.
As to the most drunk, really, I don't think we can pin down just one. Maybe the time I almost took a header over the railing of my 4th floor walk-up? Falling down outside my building in the UK and only thinking "man, I hope nobody saw that..."? According to my Evil Ex Roommate I can be so drunk my eyes are rolling back in my head yet still walk around and carry on a conversation.
Okay, fine, umm... Halloween 2006. My memory ends shortly after we entered the karaoke bar due to copious free shots of Jameson. I woke up the next morning in my own bed, naked, with half a fake-eyelash still glued to my eyelid, and (fortunately) alone. Apparently within that blank space I sang some righteous karaoke (there are photos, I am a rock star), threw my shoes at my friend--hard, fell off my stool, was poured into a taxi, and somehow by the grace of the almighty managed to direct that cab driver to my apartment--without puking in his taxi.
I am awesome.
oh man....only 1?!?
Probably my first pledge event when I was an active member of the frat....since drinking was involved, I decided a fifth of captains and coke was going to be my best friend. I finished 70% of the bottle in an hour. By myself.
Let me think of the places I passed out that night:
-on top of one of the dinner tables in the house.
-bathroom floor (GROSS)
-shower floor (also GROSS...especially since I kinda puked all over myself)
-fire escape (smart move on my point)
-roof of the house (another steller moment of cheese-thinking)
-finally my bed (I think)
Now comes the 9:30AM shift the next morning at the Snack Bar....lets just say cooking copious amounts of egg was not doing good things for my stomach.
Even worse? Anytime someone ordered a coke, and the smell hit me while dispensing it from the machine, my stomach got REALLY queezy.
Thank GOD my girlfriend at the time came around. After some begging (and promises of sexual favors in return), I convinced her to finish my shift for me....while I went to a bathroom and puked my guts out.
I have so many more good stories like this too
La: At this point, right now, I soo with my blog names was Pinche Borracho. PB, as it were.
Anyways, that's a great fucking story. Seriously.
"Bring it motherfucker! I'll take you down!!"
Priceless.
[pokes La Ebria]
"Now dance in my blog. DANCE."
Actually, in my above comment, that is "wish" my blog name were PB. I, in fact, do not have a lisp.
Froggy: Awesome indeed. I expect to see photos from that night, as well as the story, posted on your blog ASAP. I think my favorite detail is the half-fake eyelash still stuck to your lid.
Cheese: Even though I heard that story before I never get tired of hearing it again. I'll say this for you: Passing out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 times is epic. I usually am down after the first knockout punch. Your night right there is the mark of a true drinking champion indeed.
All: So, with all this drinking talk, does anybody else, you know, kind of really want a fucking drink right now, or is that just me? Just wondering.
Oh, and stay tuned. I may actually have a photo of myself to post here later.
The night that the Vexed Virgin and I polished off 1.5 bottles of vodka in lemon drop shots. She was suddenly belly dancing, and there was lots of photo taking. Then somehow we got our hands on some champagne.
Bad idea.
When I heard her throw up in the bathroom, I threw up on my own feet before running upstairs in the hopes that our other roommate would help us. I started screaming for a Target Bag to throw up into, and our guy roommate found me passed out on the bathroom floor with no shirt, and no bra.
He picked me up, put a clean shirt on me, and put me to bed with a Target bag.
I wrote about how drunk I was on Thanksgiving this year. I mean, I woke up with a black eye because I fell into a bush while trying to save my cocktial that was falling out of my hand! HA!
I think my next most drunk would have to be my birthday a few years back.
My boyfriend (of 4 years at the time) forgot it was a my birthday so my best friend threw together a half assed party for me day of. We go to the dive bar across the street and I drink like I am on a mission from God.
After my 5th Irish Car Bomb I decided it would be a good idea to take the bartender up on his offer of "shooters for hooters." I flash him, the other bartender and the majority of the bar. I am the champion. Free shots all around!
The next thing I know it is the next morning and I wake up in my bed. Picture this: I am diaganol across the bed. Boots and socks on, panties, bra, winter coat and scarf, no pants. However my jeans are laid ever so delicately on top of my legs. WTF? No idea what happened. My bf was sleeping on the couch and could provide no answers.
Talk about a hang over.
[hands shaking as I type....really want a beverage]
I can't tell you all how pleased I am that I threw this out there.
@BG: VV? Belly Dancing? I don't believe it. And I'll say this, you have quite the roommate. When I pass out my roommates usually shave my eyebrows and kick me in the ribs.
@Chard: That is a classic story. I'm not usually one to be out-drank by women, but I have a feeling you may be able to hang. Five fucking CarBombs? Cheese, my roommate, will tell you that one time at an Irish Pub we were doing Car Bombs. Before my third one I was smiley and happy. Then, as soon as I finished the third, he could see the imminent blackout wash over my face. My face changed, noticeably. I don't remember anything after that. Next thing I know the woman I was with woke me up because I peed on her.
Mine was New Years 2002. I started swigging Captain Morgan's right out of the bottle yelling at former high school classmates that I will "not make out with them," passed out in a snow bank where I couldn't breath, thought I was actually going to die, was ok with it, saved by a friend, not sure who, puked up pure evil the next day, spent the next two days trying not to puke.
Horrible.
I was 16. I did six shots of Jose back to back. I threw up three times and don't remember anything else...
@Meg: "thought I was actually going to die, was ok with it"
Yes, totally been there before. Congratulations on being one of the few in these comments who didn't end the night inexplicably in your underwear or without a bra.
@Puddin: Way to start the game off strong. If I were putting together a lineup of drinkers, you'd lead off.
Oh, and does anyone know what time it is?
That's right. Beer:34, motherfuckers.
Time to drink.
it was definitely in my best interest to not wake up after the first pass out. But people kept finding me and making me wake up and saying things like "go to bed" which to me, sounded like "drink more, pussy".
God, so many more.
Memorial Day BBQ 2004....(1 keg, 2 cases of 40s, mojitos, sangaria, around 70 people, and we STILL needed a beer run)
St. Patrick's Day 2004....(why I don't drink so-co and diet coke so much anymore. the next day at work was NOT GOOD)
The wedding in Indy....(I decided to see how many people I could piss off. Turns out: about all of them but the fat chick who wanted to blow me)
I would say this story but I think I can top it.
17 years old. Mixing something fabulous like The Beast and some kind of shitty bourbon. Completely shit-faced. Passed out at buddy's house. They drive me home and leave me in the passenger seat of my car. Going in, I make it as far as the front lawn where I commence to pass out again. Sprinklers wake me. I make it into bed finally. Where I apparently roll over and puke in the space between the bed and wall. Which I discover by the hideous aroma the next day.
Good times.
I am pissed that I am so late coming to this party. Great stories so far. Hope I match up.
Senior Class trip to Mazatlan, 1990. Last night in town. Been drinking consistently for 7 days. Seven classmates and I are walking around near our hotel looking for dinner before going out when one guy looks in to a little dive bar that has signatures all over the walls and a sign that says "Drink 40 Tequila Slammers, Get a Free T-Shirt". With our dillapidated brain power, this seemed like the perfect idea.
Problem is, they are closing the store in 45 minutes. No problem we say. We each go one at a time in a revolving line and shoot 5 slammers in a row. So we keep going, nobody pukes. Every five minutes, you are up and five shooters are lined up in front of you. SLAM, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM. We all made it to 40 and got our t-shirt. One guy made it to 65 and was allowed to sign the ceiling. From here the story gets a little bit hazy.
I remember getting out of one of those golf cart cabs and making it into a bar. I remember leaving with a girl, her friend and some other guy. I have the sinking suspicion she was not hot. I seem to recall walking into a hotel room at the El Cid and yelling something and then being yanked out. Next thing I know I am sitting in a stair well, the girl is going down on me, and people are walking by. I look at my watch and it is 5:30 AM and I have a plane that is leaving at 9:00.
I push her off me, stand up, get my pants back on and stumble down the stairs. I crawl into a cab, somehow make it to my hotel, shove my filthy clothes in a bag and make it to the airport. To this day, I am cannot recall any of the evening except for the above, which lasted about 30 minutes total. I have never been able to drink tequila again.
@Cheese: This is why this open thread was a good idea. I love ALL the stories. And your loose translation of "go to bed" is hilarious.
@OTV: I'm pretty sure puking is a general theme running through my blog today. That's a great story though. I love the visuals of you getting smacked awake by the sprinkler. That's fucking classic. And nothing better than waking up to the smell of your own vomit. Ugh.
Oh, by the way, give Redhead a *wink* for me, will ya? Haha.\
Harry: This is my actual though process while reading your comment:
1st graf: "OK"
2nd graf: "What? 1990? Is this guy actually Harry Fucking Truman?....Oh shit, free T-shirts. This is gonna be awesome."
3rd graf: "Oh my...."
4th grad: "Ho.Lee.Shit. I have a feeling this is the best story of the day."
And guess what folks, it fucking is. That is just straight out awesome, right there -- even if it was back during the first Bush Administration when Saved by the Bell was rocking through it's second season.
Cheers.
OK, now, everyone get out there and give me some more stories tomorrow.
Fuckyes.
One of my best stories occurred in March 2007 when I attended a going-away party for a friend leaving NYC. I showed up beligerent (I'd attended a tequila happy hour first) chewed out a girl friend (telling her to shut up repeatedly), then the party moved to a nearby bar that's known for its go-go dancers.
There, I apparently into "drunk love" with a female go-go dancer and started tipping her dollar bills. She told me that I smelled nice, so I decided to kiss her. She kissed back. At one point, I lifted my shirt and exposed my bra to her and everyone in the bar, including my guy friends.
Of course, I remember none of this. The guy I took home that night had to relay the story to me the next day. Then I wrote a lot of apology emails.
I suck. I don't have a SINGLE drunker than a skunk story and I WANT TO PLAY!
Gah.
My birthday's next week - maybe I can scrounge somethin' up then.
Hmm...
btw - funniest shit I've read in a LONG fuckin time. Thanks for blogging, folks. ;-)
Hello people.
This Yoush from USA NY...
Iam half arabian and half American I used to live in America but not I live in Russian.
Loved this forum and what it has so god bless you :)
My regards to all...
[url=http://aljns.info]الجنس[/url]-[url=http://aljns.info]الجماع[/url]
[url=http://www.anqam.com/anqam-12219.html]صور بنات[/url] - [url=http://www.anqam.com/anqam-12219.html]بنات[/url] - [url=http://www.anqam.com/anqam-12219.html]بنات دلع[/url]
Post a Comment