Monday, March 12, 2007

Drinking Stories

In this episode of "The Thinking Room":

With St. Patrick's Day around the corner, your boy shares a cautionary tale.





You can respond in writing here or click the YouTube logo, grab a webcam and share your worst drinking story straight, no chaser. So...

HOLLA AT YOUR BOY!

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4 Comments:

Anonymous CJ Harris said...

Well it was my boy's b-day, he is a little older than me, so when his other boy's showed up I was the youngest in the bar. I heard that all night, "You to young to drink like we do", "You ain't ready for Wray & Newphew", etc. Long story short, all I remember is stubbling up to our third fl. appt. trying to make it to the bathroom to piss. Good news; I made it to the bathroom, bad news; I fell into the bathtub midway, & had to have my (at the time)fiance help me out and into bed.
Not so good times!!

5:12 PM  
Anonymous Seth said...

Well, there's this one story about my 30th birthday party, when I spilled a whole drink down my buddy's back for no good reason, and then proceeded to pass out in a booth, weighing myself down heavier than a concrete block.

Only...wait...that wasn't actually me, now was it?

This story, sadly, was me. It was my 21st birthday and I was up with some friends at Penn State. We of course drank heavily well into the a.m. hours. At one point, my girlfriend was passed out on the floor, my friends had all retired for the evening as well, and the only ones still up were me and this tiny little blonde chick. She says that, since it's my birthday, I need to do a shot of Tequila with her. So she opens the bottle and poors us both a shot. And then she pours another one. Well I'll be damned if some little 5'1" chippy is going to out-drink my ass, regardless of how many liters of beer I had that night. For I am man. So I matched her shot, again. And again. And many more agains, until the bottle was empty.

My next memory is being violently shaken awake, several hours later. I had been peacefully sleeping on the floor next to my girlfriend, but now she and one of the guys who lived there are yelling at me and shaking me all around. This would be because, it would seem, I was throwing up like I've never thrown up before, and just sleeping right through the whole damn thing. As my eyes quasi-focused, I see this big ol' mountain of cottage cheese looking shit next to me, and I would've slept right through it all if not for those pesky kids (sure, it might be scary to think about the fact that if I'd been on my back I would've choked on my own vomit, but I don't think about those things for I am man).

At this point, the other roomate came out into the living room and, when he saw what happened, got a bit drunk pissed off. Not so much because I puked, but because they actually rented the apartment across the hall as well (don't ask), and that was the designated party-and-fuck-up place. "Dude, this is where we sleep - that's where we puke!"

...almost a year later, I got a mystery envelope in the mail. It was the security deposit notice for that apartment, and my friend had kindly highlighted "rug cleaning - $75" for me.

5:55 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'd like to call this the story of the ugly boots-
After a long night out w. some girlfriends, we stopped by the 24 hour gyro place to get some good drunk food. In my lighthearted state, I sat on the counter of the resturaunt, swinging my legs to accentuate the brand new winter boots I had bought. Suddenly, a group of guys walk into the place, and I notice one of the guys staring at my feet. Then I hear him say, "Hey, your boots are ugly!" Instead of laughing it off, I got really angry (remember I am drunk). "At least they aren't as ugly as your face!!" Everyone in the place laughed. As he left, he screamed, "They are still ugly," to which I replied, "F*** you!!!" Then I went home and ate my cheese ticks. Nobody messes with my boots.
-Court

4:47 PM  
Blogger Natalia said...

I once woke up in a dark basement with my fly down and an old man doing laundry a few feet away.

Naturally, I started sobbing...until I realized it hurt my head way too much form tears and/or make audible noises, so I just sort of internally panicked until I saw my friend waking up beside me, reassuring me that I had only made a fool of myself at a house party and was not date raped by the elderly gentleman doing his whites. He was simply the land lord.



Whenever I smell Gin I think of damp surroundings and the elderly.

1:42 AM  

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