Sunday, January 21, 2007

Another Stoner Story...

Alright so here's my shitty stoner story.

I had just popped my bud's herb cherry, and, surprisingly enough, he was lit off his ass with some superb Canadian Exo's. Anyway, a bit prior, we had run out of food at my place, having polished off a crapload of Chinese food between a family of four. All we had left were some packets of duck sauce and some (by that time crunchy) white rice. My friend, stumbling around like Hunter S. in the midst of an ether binge, makes his way to the kitchen for some "munsheez." Half giggling and half grunting, he begins to rummage through my fridge, all the while mumbling about the complete lack of food.

"You'll probably end up eating plain rice, dude." I bellowed from my post at my computer. How right I was.

After 15 minutes of ill-fated searching, he returns to my room with the most rancid smelling plate I had ever had the unhappy coincidence of ever having smelt. A full bowl of week-old rice and four packets of duck sauce; and I don’t mean four packets worth of duck sauce. The orange goo was still somewhat contained in the half-melted packets. I intended to stop him from eating, believe me, I really did. I ventured out to put an end to this ludicrous exercise in standard stoner procedure, but something about that moment stank of a Dave Barry-esque hyperbole. So, instead, I shouted out:

“Five bucks worth of pot says that you can’t eat that without your hands.”

That motherfucker won the bet, and in under 5 minutes to. Imagine my surprise, when, two hours later, I realized that he had either mad the plastic casings disappear or he had eaten them. And he’s no magician.

Never Cross The Manager of McDonalds…

On graduation night, every student had one mission, which was painstakingly clear and simple: To get as wasted as possible as soon as possible. I was aware of this task, and within the first hour of drinking had thrown back a six-pack of Millers beer, and was clutching a 700ml bottle of Jim Beam & Cola for my second hour of drinking.

Around 6am, when all of us were well and truly wasted, roughly half of us decided to walk to McDonalds and walk through the drive-thru for breakfast Two hours, several goon-bags (any wine under $10 in a cask is called "goon" in Australia) and many renditioned choruses of the old school song later, we arrived at McDonalds.

Being the civilized drunk I am, I climbed onto the children's playground with a few friends. Still pissed off my arse, I kept drinking, whilst still balancing on a jungle gym. I fell off, broke two fingers on the cement, but was so wasted I passed out. I woke up an hour or so later due to a police officer prodding me with his foot. I was *almost* charged with "open alcoholic vessel in public", "public nuisance", and another shit-fed law, but given the reason for partying, I was kindly let off with a warning - I guess it paid to be an ex-student of a well-respected private school.

The manager at the McDonalds store still won't let me in, and my manager at the McDonalds I work at has a vendetta against me, all because I broke my fingers from a fall when being wasted.

Another one, I'll be quick:
It was winter, was at a party at a house which was on the side of a mountain. Went skinny dipping with two friends in a near freezing lake. Boy that one sucked.

Never Leave Witnesses Alive…

One night I got drunk with my friends down in Yonkers and we were walking home and I went into a deli blasted out of my mind. I walked inside and apparently I was taking all the loose candies and putting them down my pants and they exited the bottom of the pants. I continued to do so while walking down the aisle.

This Pakistani clerk asked me what I was doing. Apparently I said I was shopping. And then I realized what I was doing, so I said sorry walked out the door and tripped outside the door and passed out.

My friends brought me home and in the morning i went downstairs for breakfast and when I walked into the kitchen my mom saw me with skittles coming out of my pants.

Eyewitnesses were my two drunken friends.

Ditching School...

One Thursday night me and my friend where talking and we had been contemplating on whether or not we should skip school on Friday and go to one of his friends house for a small getty that would have plenty of alcohol, or go to school and face several teachers that would bitch us out for not bringing homework in. So we decided we would just fuck it and go get hammered.

So we get to school and immediately dip ( the kids house was about 7 blocks away from the school), we cut through a little woodsy area and find our selves having to cross a pretty major intersection in which after crossing a cop passes right by us and flares his siren. Right at that moment we all ran in different directions, and I end up in someone’s back yard waiting for about 10 mins till someone called safe. After picking are selves up we finally get to the house and relax.

So it’s about 7:40AM and we start drinking, and after a few minutes we start feeling buzzed which was fine, but the host of the getty started hitting the tequila bottle a little to hard and got shit faced fast. So we have the host of the party tripping over every step and completely drunk, I knew right away something was going to fuck up. The kid ends up dragging himself down the stairs and into his living room where he starts to fuck with his house alarm, this is where hell broke loss, he ends up pressing the wrong button and the alarm goes off. So imagine this about 7 kids in the age range of 14-16 all pretty drunk in a little suburb house that's alarm is blasting through the neighborhood at 8:20 in the morning.

My friend is trying to help the kid turn off the alarm while the rest of us are getting ready to get the fuck out of the house, by this time the alarm had been ringing for at least 3 minutes, so when me and a couple other kids rush out the door there’s a whole crowd waiting to see what’s going on out side, and the shit-faced host walks out side and is all over the place and some old guys is bitching us out asking if he did drugs or something and we tried to explain that he had downed too much tequila.

They just told us to take the kid and put um to bed. So one of the kids was able to drag um upstairs and stick um in his bed while my friend finally turned off the alarm. But after about 2 seconds of peace we get a phone call that the police where on there due to the whole alarm thing. So the only thing we could do is leave the kid in his bed because he was to hammered to walk, and run the fuck out of there. We here sirens so we end up finding a little woods between a development that was under construction.

We stayed there from 9:00 till bout 12:30 when we headed back to school to catch the last bell, on our way back we had to hang at a Wendy’s to waste time but the manager threw us out and got school security to come looking for us (the school security is on golf carts and the Wendy’s was right next to the school) so we had to hide again in some little grassy area bye the school.

The Prerequisite “Balls on my Face” Story

The last week of the summer holidays was my Canadian friends last week here (UK) before he moved back to Canada. We wanted to have a pretty decent going away piss up. I forget exactly how much alcohol we had but I think it was a lot. There were only about 6 of us there, just people that had known him well. We started drinking at about 7 or 8 I guess. One of the last things I remembered was playing this game that my friend explained to me in a slurred way.

There was what must have been a quart of whisky in front of me and my friend managed to tell me the very stupid sentence I had to repeat after about 4 tries, something like seven silly sailors sing six stupid songs. If I could say the sentence correctly I would only have to take a sip, incorrect repetition of the sentence would result in having to down the glass (I would normally object to a game this idiotic but I was pretty drunk already.).

Several hours later I woke to a fucking Labrador licking my face; my friend’s mother makes some apology about the dog from the kitchen door and calls it away. I look around and I'm lying on the living room floor with a sleeping bag someone had half-arsedly thrown over me. I stand up after about 2 tries and notice that someone has drawn BALLS on my face in my reflection in a picture. I stagger to the bathroom and wash off the permanent marker with the remains of a bottle of vodka I find. Unfortunately it does nothing for my hang over.

I walk into another room and everyone is watching TV, I sit down and listen to various accounts of my activities the night before, someone tells me I fell in a bush so I check my back and find loads of gashes there. I also apparently spent a whole hour trying to tell everyone a fact that aboriginal Australians have exceptional hearing and vision because they allow flies to eat the stuff that clogs them up (perhaps someone can tell me if this is true or not?) I then get told how I crawled into the bathroom on all fours, was heartily sick, crawled back into the living room and passed out. Apparently this pissed off the girl whose house this was at because she had just made the sofa ready for me to sleep on. Because of this she drew balls on my face. Then one of my other friends comes down the stairs and proceeds to rub an entire tube of toothpaste into my face.

In my hung-over state this is a bit much. I fail to punch the guy in the nuts then go to the bathroom and rub the toothpaste off my face and out of my ears (that shit burns). Apparently I had drawn a cock on the guy’s neck the night before and it had caused a rash (in the shape of a cock). He did apologize for over-reacting and gave me a ride home. I completely forgot to say goodbye to my Canadian friend properly. Probably the drunk I've ever been. Apart from that one time...

Drunken Cross Dresser Gets Free Weed...

This happened a few years ago, a friend of mine was throwing a party and he decided to have live music so he talked to me and a few other guys and got my band along with two other bands to play.

He lives in a pretty big house with a good sized backyard and a nice patio that we would use as a stage. The festivities started at 6:30 pm, the first band went on at 7:00 pm. They played for about 30 minutes and then the second band went on. They played for about 45 minutes. After this, my band was setting up to go on, by then people were enjoying themselves (drinking, dancing, laughing, ect.). We got through half our set and a couple cops just walk into the backyard. We were worried, not because of the people drinking in the backyard, but because there were a lot of people in the basement where there was a full bar, tons of alcohol, and loads of illegal drugs. One of the cops told us they had received complaints and wanted us to shut down.

Luckily, they left without further investigation and we stopped our set and loaded our equipment up. This was when we decided to party. Now, there was enough alcohol there to get 150 people drunk, but there were only 60 people there. So I, along with everyone, start heavily drinking shot after shot, beer after beer and smoking bowl after bowl.

This continues until about 4:00 am. By then most of the people had passed out so there were only like 15-20 people awake. The beer and hard liquor was almost gone. Six of my friends and I are still hungering for more, but don't know what to do. It was at this time my friend, who threw the party, brings us up to some small guest bedroom on the second floor, in which he had hid 18 beers under the bed. Hell yea! We sit there, drink and smoke some more. I started feeling extremely wasted, and I've been drunk enough times to know when I can't trust myself anymore. My rational thinking was out the window at this point, so I started looking for a place to pass out, but I came across two guys that I barely know, and they ask me if I want to smoke. I wasn't about to turn this offer down, so we went up to the master bedroom, sat in the walk-in closet and smoked a couple bowls.

I had the great idea of putting on my friend's mom's high-heel shoes and a dress of hers, to walk around in. Everyone that saw me laughed as I stumbled around looking like a cross-dressing L.A. hooker. This was when I started feeling sick. It started with a burp, then a gag, and then I was hugging the master bathroom toilet.

I guess I passed out sitting on the floor with my head on the toilet seat, because I was awoken by a friend at around 10:00 am. I cleaned up the toilet and went downstairs just in time for eggs and bacon. Nothing like greasy bacon to calm your stomach after a hard night of drinking. A friend of mine who deals bud asked me to drive him to a house to hook up a sack. I did, it took 40 minutes, but he gave me a free quarter for doing it so I went home, smoked then slept for six more hours. All in all, a great experience.

Damn Legs, Always Breaking...

My 20th birthday starts off well, 50 odd friends dwindles down to around 4 by the early hours of the morning. By this time we have killed off the beer kegs and bottles of spirits and things were looking like dying off till I came up with the great idea that it was time to break into my top shelf collection. We drink a few more bottles between the 4 of us then great idea two hits in; I’m going to walk the lad’s home because they are too pissed.

We start out on the walk and then the hijinks ensue. 1 guy was out of hospital a day and was walking with the aid of a now chopped down version of his crutches ( drunks with axes - not bloody good ) he took many falls and broke all his stitches resulting in a bloody leg that continued to bleed to whole time we were walking .

The second bloke decided that walking down the hill was too hard and tried out his insane idea of rolling the whole way down on the road - end result , he had cuts on nearly every exposed bit of his body and was bleeding from multiple wounds .

The third person had been accidentally stabbed by his girlfriend that night in the buttocks (a friend had called in to tell everyone he couldn't make it and rob, the stabbed one, passed on my friends comments to those around him, unfortunately one of the comments pissed his extremely intoxicated girlfriend off and she grabbed the fist thing that came to hand, a Wiltshire stay sharp knife, a let rip in the left butt cheek, ouch.

Finally there was me, as drunk as ten men but the only one unhurt. We get half way back to their place when a car looses control and mounts the sidewalk and cleans me up. End result broken leg.

The ambulance finally comes after my mate with the crutches and bleeding leg calls for help and the first words from the paramedics “ok, which one are we taking?”

One final note; around 5-6 hours after I stopped drinking my blood alcohol reading was taken at the hospital and was around 0.2. This meant no painkillers for me as the docs set the broken leg.

A Long Story of Prolonged Drinking...

Personally I dont really drink much but one wekend I went with the guys from work on a snowboarding/skiing weekend on blue mountain (a nice escartment in Ontario).

Well I spent about 5 hours on the hill, then we all met up at a bar and had a few beers, then we went to dinner and had some pizza(medume each) and rum/coke and afterwords some of us went to the room(mike and I brought a 24, and so did almost everyone else (12people), as well as 2 bottles of rum and 2 botles of something else.) and had about 4 more beers and two/3 stiff drinks (half rum and half coke), at this point we are all cracking jokes, watching tv and having a good time, had a few more (two beers), some of the guys went clubing and mike and I stayed and had some more. Everything is now spinning pretty good.

they come back and we go and have some fun at a copel of girls room, we come back and guys start dropping, at this piont I got everyone beat at least 2 drinks to one, we kept going for a while longer, I remember one guy had a gitar?, we where all singing and making arnold inpressions. it is at this point that most of my memory stops and thet tell me I was saying weird shit and poaring 90% alchahol drink and downing them.

Well long story short, I drank 15-20 beers and 1.5 botles of rum with one botle of coke and two pots of coffe. puked allover the bathroom, passed out on the kitchenet floor and puked on myself. LUCKLY I was one of the first ppl to wake up so no one fucked with me. lol two guys where spooning on one bed, and there was carnage...bodies everwhere, we rented two hotel rooms and everyone passed out in the mane one. there where beer botles everwhere, 10 cases of 24, woke up with a MASSIVE HANGOVER and a touch of poisening, went for breakfast at dennies and had the lumberjack.

Waking up and having to pick out puke out of your hair is not cool, the problem is that i didnt know that it was me, I walked into the bathroon and saw puke all over the walls and floor and thought youknow those guy should contole there drinking... then about a week later it turned out that it was me.

Oh I forgot to mention one of the guy is a real asshole, truly a huge ass, and pushed me quite hard all the time and all he kept saying before the weekend was that he will drink me under the table and fuck with me when I pass out, so a week before I got two bottles of yodka and 2 4l bottles of Sunny D and drank at work every day of the week at work to "trane" hehe that was a amusing week

The only good part is I drank more then him and he passed out first, I tormented him for a long time after that and didnt drink for at least two months.

Fired, or on Fire...

Im a barbackin a bar. My dad is a bartender in that bar as well. Well my work makes a lot of business and I mean a lot. On busy nights like Thursday friday and saturday there will usually be 2 barbacks working behind the bar. The point of a barback is to refill the bottles in the coolers get glasses put on new kegs etc.

Well one night this asshole who I was working with decides that tonite a Thursday looks quite because there was no one there. So I stock up my side of the bar with everything. He disapeers and I dont see him for the rest of the evening so I thought maybe he is sick and went home so refilled some of the stuff he was low on.

It comes to 11:00 and this police or firefighter convention that was down in the city literally came up to the bar. It is crazy my side of the bar is holding up, the other is completely falling behind. It gets lighter towards 12 because the band was talented so everyone went to dance.

I go out to fill up my stuff and his side knowing that im gonna be working alone tonite. I walk into the beer cooler and there he was blasted out his mind drinking magners with some mexican cook. "What the fuck are you doing"

I take my shit walk back try to tell the head bartender what was going on but he barges into the dance floor and starts to dance with the wife of some big police officer, dancing real dirty like, grabbing her ass and everything. The husband decks him and is knocked out cold. We had to close at 1 three hours before we fully close. The "real cops" arrived and they asked questions.

The owner of the bar came down pissed off and started yelling at the semi conscious barback and yells "YOUR FUCKIN FIRED" his reply was "I know im on fire" and he starts to sing a song and finally passes out.

After that me and my dad went home. I later found out that he came back asking for his pay for the night before.

Stoner Story

A while back there was a rave kind of thing at a venue near where my friends and I live. We went, spent most of the night getting totally wasted and raving out and then went back to my friends house (she has a holiday cottage next to her house her pearents let her have parties in).

So we go back there and manage to invite the frontman for the headline DnB act subsource. He phones us up about 30 mins after we get to the party so we go pick him up, sound guy, tells us stories about running sheep over with his farmbike or something.

We party for a bit, by this time I'm more than a little high and have chugged about a dozen beers, I go to sleep then wake up at one point with loads of my mates standing around the bed I was sleeping in, I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

I found out the next day they had been sticking rizzla to my face and setting them on fire. Wankers. The morning after we're sitting around in the living room feeling pretty pickled. One of my other friends has been off his face on mdma for the night and is acting pretty strange.

I ask him for some tobacco to roll a cigg and he starts playing with his phone, I think he's texting so I leave him and ask him again about 30seconds later, he says, "I'll get it, I'll get it" I wait a bit longer then ask him "can I have the fucking tobacco?" He shouts "IM FUCKING LOOKING FOR IT" so I shut up. He'd been looking for the baccy in his phone book.

I eventually get the tobacco off him and roll my cigg and go outside. He's also rolled a cigg and is sitting there with me. I offer him my lighter after I've lit up but he waves it away and tries to light his fag for the next 5 mins with his mobile phone.

Foaming at The Mouth

Some friends and I start the night off with drinking the remains of a bottle of vodka from a previous night. When that's gone we look for someone to buy us another bottle (we were already quite drunk at this point).

Eventually we get a hold of one of our friends with a fake ID. We hang out at his house for a while, taking gulps from our recently purchased bottle of vodka. I don't remember leaving his house. I wake up the next day feeling great, despite scratches on my arms and face which I had no idea how I had sustained. Later that day I had to have my stupidity explained to me by a couple of my friends.

I had drooled on myself, gotten a little puke on myself, foamed at the mouth, and fallen in a thorn bush. I soon came to find out I had lost my glasses (which turned up in a small pile of puke in my friend's bathroom) and an oz of ganja (which sadly never turned up).

So since then I mostly drink micro brews and if I do drink hard alcohol I remember one thing: I am a lightweight, my friends are alcoholics and there is no possible way I can keep up with them without endangering my well being.

Fake Fanta...

This happened to me this past summer during my last night of my month vacation visiting family in Ukraine.

It being a vacation I was pretty much allowed to do whatever i pleased as long as I showed up to eat and do other stuff. We showed up at my aunt and uncle's house in the afternoon so we proceeded to eat dinner. During dinner we gave many many toasts to things over the trip which lead to drinking many shots, after eating my parents and my aunt and uncle wanted to go to the store to buy things to bring back home, I wanted to go since I wanted to pick up some things my self (1 big bottle of vodka and a bottle of good ol' absinthe)

While at this big superstore I walked as if I had no control of my legs. I nearly knocked over 3 item displays and for some reason bought every type of gum they had at the checkout lane. When we got home I found out that my brother had been drinking beers since we left, and me and my brother sat off in the living room away from my parents and he filled up my 1/4th full bottle of Fanta with silver premium vodka.

Soon after this my dad and uncle came in and my dad suggested I don't drink anymore. I said ok and smiled as I sipped on my bottle of "Fanta" as my dad, brother, and uncle did more shots. Finally, around midnight we all decided we should go to bed because we had to wake up early to get ready for our flight back to the states. I tried going into the bathroom but I could not puke to secure a half-way good morning. So I went off to bed. I remember lying down in bed and moving around for what seemed to be 5 min. and then my mom woke me up and told me and my brother we had to start getting ready. I woke up nearly as drunk as I remember myself going to sleep. This was accompanied by a half-sick, half-hung-over feeling.

I spent the next day on and off planes and stuck in airports joined by this feeling. For the next 3 days after I couldn't even look at alcohol without feeling sick.

Me, Myself, Irene, and the Happy Tree Friends...

It was just last Friday. A friend and I went over to our buddy's house for the night and we split one of those huge bottles of green apple Bacardi amongst the 3 of us. We first drank a bottle of water each, then divided the Bacardi evenly into our own bottles, and decided to walk over to another friend's house, about a 30 minute walk away.

So we put on our coats, put our bottles in our pockets, and set out around 8:30. It's extremely windy, very cold, and already dark. It was out in the rural area, though, so there weren't many cars at all, thank God. We start walking and start drinking, and we get about 2 minutes from his house, we're plastered, and my friend points out a light up ahead in the street, like a flashlight, and he says a policeman lives there.

He must've heard us yelling Avenged Sevenfold lyrics and came outside to investigate. We don't want to risk getting caught, so we head back to my friend's house, where we left from. We had finished off our bottles by then, and were so freakin trashed, we could barely stand up. I don't remember half the things we ranted on about, but I do remember stopping literally every 8 minutes to pee.

It took us an hour and a half to get back to the house, where we ordered food from a local restaurant, ate it, watched Me, Myself, and Irene, fell asleep, woke up at 4, watched Happy Tree Friends, and passed out at 4:30 in the morning, feeling sick as hell. I woke up in the morning around 8, and my friend and I had real bad headaches, from falling on our faces on the pavement several times on our little adventure. Other than that, I was feeling fine in the morning. I was only hung-over when I was awake at 4 AM, though. Wow, did my stomach hurt. Then I went home, and the 'rents never knew a thing...

Denver Colorado; 1978

Back in 78, my buddy & I were stumbling home from The Alameda Tavern in Denver [1 of THE coolest bars I've ever had the pleasure of passing-out in] & we get to my pal's apt & he had lost his keys. So I told him just to knock on the old lady's window who owned the house [she rented out a little studio apt in her house] & she'd let him in. Well, it was about 3 a.m. & he didn't want to disturb he SMASHES THE FRONT PICTURE WINDOW!!! Noooo, that won't wake her...well, believe it or not, it didn't.

I split to my crib, as I knew he had access inside now!! Next morning, I walked down to his apt, so we could go get some breakfast & when I got there, the place looked like a mass-murder had been committed!! There was blood all over the walls, the front glass, the kitchen, just slung all over. I rushed into his room & he was still passed-out, but breathing. The blood had coagulated in his palm from the deep cuts on his arms & what had happened, as he was crawling in the window, instead of removing the jagged shards of glass from around the edges, he crawls over them, cutting the fuck outta himself. When he realized what he'd done, he got so pissed, he just started flinging blood all over the place.

His landlady comes by that morning, sees the place in tatters & gets her oldest son to start in on an AA speech. How alcohol is the devil & we both need serious help. His place had to be completely re-done; he was evicted, of course, & was lucky he didn't bleed to death.
But what could've been such a simple route, had to be turned into total mayhem...& by the looks of his crib, a mass-murder.

I Got Gravel in my Ear...

A fellow improviser and writing partner celebrated her 30th birthday by throwing herself a party at the nightclub she bartends at. It was a 4-hour party with a complete open bar. Gotta love a bar that serves my favorite ones. I had a late show the night before so I woke up pretty late in the afternoon. On the way to the party I grabbed a slice of pizza as I hadn't eaten anything all day. When I got to the club in Chelsea (NYC) I told the doorman I was there for Betsy's party. He slapped a wristband on me and directed me to the elevators to take me up to the club. When I got there, the place was pretty empty so I ordered a beer ($8 bucks. I assumed the open bar hadn't started) and took a seat. After I finished and still hadn't seen anyone I know or Betsy I asked one of the bartenders if he saw Betsy, the one who worked there yet. He said there was no Betsy that worked there. Then I realized I was in the wrong club. So I took the elevator out and noticed there were 4 other clubs on the street.

Finally I found the right one. As soon as I walked in I saw Betsy. She asked me why I was late and directed me to the bar to "catch up". For the next 4 hours I proceed to suck down glass after glass of Johnny Walker Black scotch. I drank the equivalent of a bottle. It was an awesome night. Partying with fellow improvisers is great. If you’re not laughing hysterically, you're drinking and/or puffing. After the party ended, we all went to the local bar near the theater. That's where it went a little blurry. I remember falling a lot in the bar. At one point, as I was walking out of the bathroom, someone opened the door just as I wash pushing it open and flew across the bar and landed head first on the bar. I crashed into a popular actor on Saturday Night Live who hangs out in the bar a lot. Three guys picked me up and sat me down on a stool which I immediately fell off of. Then I went in the back of the bar and went to sit in a booth with some friends. I missed the bench and fell right on my ass. As I was picking myself up by the pants leg of my friend, I pulled him down off the bench. Then about 10 fellow improvisers, all trashed themselves, piled on top of us. So what do you do when you're that wasted? You order a round of shots of course. At about 4AM, I went outside to smoke a cigarette. When I had trouble making contact with the cigarette to my lips, I realized I needed to call it a night. I decided to walk a few blocks to the subway. That's where I ran into trouble. I was so fucked up, I couldn't even walk. I would take one step and fall diagonally onto the sidewalk. I repeated that several times until I finally realized there was no way I was making it to the subway and took a cab home.

When I woke up the next morning, my bed looked like a crime scene or the opening scene from CSI, blood everywhere. Seems like I hurt myself pretty bad on one or all of the falls I took trying to walk to the subway. I probably landed on my chin because it was cut up. I must have landed on my knee at least once because the pants I was wearing had a huge hole in the knee and my knee was pretty cut up too. And I must have landed on the side of my head and dragged my ear because the back of my ear was pretty cut up. In fact, after taking a shower and using a Q-Tip, there was actually gravel in my ear. I was pretty bad and hurting but I managed to make to improv practice. When I got to the studio, a lot of the people who were in the lobby were at the party and/or bar afterwards. When I walked out of the elevator, they all just looked at me, shaking their heads and laughing. I was informed by my friends of some of the things I didn't quite remember from the night such as:

Fake wrestling in the middle of the bar with several patrons
Reciting the "Jew Hands" soliloquy from Merchant of Venice (that I had just memorized for an audition
Offering to sign some lady's boobs because my signature was gonna worth a lot of money someday.
Buying a lesbian couple a round of drinks because I thought they were "adorable" then asking if they wanted to 3 way.
When I told my friend, I was glad I didn't have any drinks in the bar after the party, he said, "Dude, you had 7 glasses of scotch"
Another friend told me he had to hold me up in the bathroom while I peed.

Drunk Marines...

Ok I was in the military in Cherry Point, NC, away from my family. So they decide to take a trip out to visit (this was 5 years ago when I was 21 and my younger brother was 15) and lucky for us, I lived right across the street from the local military wife strip club, so after the initial visit my parents decided to call it a night and went to their hotel, leaving me to hang out with my brother. I had decided to bring my brother to the strip club for his first stripper experience come hell or high water. Anyhow with a long night of underage drinking ahead of us we decided it would be better to go on a full stomache.

We searched and searched and finally come across "Kellogg’s Coco Pebbles" and I figured it was a harmless enough meal, quick and fast so we both had like 2 bowls and walked across the street the club. About 3 hours and 10 or so bar beers later I have to take a shit, the kind you don't like taking in public places much less in a bathroom with no stall doors and half drunk men. So I tell my brother I was gonna walk home and take a dump then be right back and if he could hang out for a few minutes, I don't think he even heard me due to the amount of tittie's bouncing around in his face.

So I get home and I guess the walking combined with the humidity combined with beer didn't sit well, because by the time I got home, I got to the bathroom and get my pants around my ankles and sit on the toilet the sickness hits me so I get on the floor (pants still around ankles) and start throwing up coco pebbles. Let me remind you that coco pebbles are brown and I continue to throw up and pass out on the bathroom floor with my pants around my ankles, my wife finally gets up and comes to see what the fuck is going on to find me passed out, in the bathroom, pants at my ankles laying in a brown thick can imagine what it must have looked like...on me, on the toilet, on the walls...brown everywhere.

She finally decides to get me back to bed not knowing that my 15 yr old brother is still half lit at this strip club. Well I also had this wonderful HEPA air purifier in our bedroom by the bed, so she gets me into bed and I feel the sickness again and I’m pretty out of it so I’m thinking "GET TO THE TOILET JASON" well I get out of bed, see this blurry white circle, and its about the size of the bowl and its white and all, and well it was cool to the touch so I’m thinking BINGO - so I pull the top off and yack all in it thinking it was the toilet.

This would go totally un-noticed till the next morning when my wife gets up and kinda puts 2 and 2 together and we get the coco pebbles cleaned up and sitting back laughing at it thinking all is behind us...until she decided to fire up the air blower/purifier thing that was in our bedroom...that is when all the brown, shit looking throw up that I left there so gently the night before was ejected out and sprayed on the wall.

Needless to say I was the one to have to clean that up.

Halo 2 Owned by a Drunk!

This is a weird one. I got off work at like 1pm last year, went back to the barracks and started drinking heavily and playing Halo with the volume all the way up. I remember playing Halo all the way through about twice, then around 3 or 4am, I left my barracks room and went to the tv/gaming lounge on my floor and some of my buddies were playing Halo 2, so I joined in.

Thats as much as I remember, except that I played Halo 2 for about 3 hours then decided to go to bed. I woke up later that night to find that my bathroom smelled of rum and vomit. I could only conclude that I went back to my room to sleep and ended up praying to the porcelain god instead...

Frozen Drinks...

About 10 years ago, I used to live in the suburbs with my parents. I had a girlfriend who lived about 6 km away, and often I would get a ride there in the evening to party.

One night, I drank and drank until we had polished off a Texas Mickey of Canadian Club. My girlfriend wanted me to stay over, but I knew that my parents would have a shit-fit if I did.

At 3:00am, I decided that I would walk home. There were a couple of glitches in that plan, though. For one, it was January and although it was a clear, still night, the temperature was around -35 C. That would normally be OK, but I had nothing except a t-shirt and a thin leather sports jacket. Regardless, I decided to walk home anyways rather than feel my parents' wrath in the morning.

It started out ok. There was no traffic on the highway, so I had a quiet walk. About halfway I noticed that I was starting to feel a little too cold. My hands were white, and my feet were freezing. I was committed now, though, so I kept going.

As time wore on I got colder and colder. I eventually realized that my life was in danger. I vowed that when the next car or snowmobile went by, I would flag them down, tell them I was about to freeze to death, and they'd give me a ride. Unfortunately I never saw a car or snowmobile. It was just my frozen, drunken ass and the road.

Finally, an hour and a half later, I arrived at my house. I was no longer shivering (not a good sign). I was barely able to open the door. I immediately stuck my frozen hands under some warm water, and the pain was unbelievable. I stumbled up to my bed and wrapped myself in blankets. I was beyond blankets, though. I laid there shaking uncontrollably for about half an hour until my body regained control of its temperature.

The next morning, not only did I have a huge hangover, but my hands were red, peeling and sore. There was no question that if I had been outside any longer, I surely would have died of hypothermia.

The moral of the story is: don't make critical decisions when you're hammered. You may just do something that will kill you.

The Cell Phone and the Water Hazard...

Now, I'm not really a big drinker, and this story is basically why.

We were 15, drinking all night, and pretty damn plastered. I was at my friend’s house for the weekend and around midnight we started to get paranoid. What if the parents caught us? So we decided to get rid of the evidence, 20 beer bottles, 10 mini bottles, and some cans. Luckily, my friend lives off a golf course, so we went into the golf course, walked over to the water trap and threw the bottles in.

On the way back to the house, my friend decided to call his girlfriend. He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a mini bottle. Lol, instead of throwing out the mini bottle in his right pocket, he threw his cell phone in his left pocket into the water hazard.

We ran back to the water hazard, and called the cell with my cell. You could see the lights dimly flashing at the bottom of the lake, and we spent the next hour trying to get the cell phone out. Never did get it out, lol, so if anyone lives in Windsor, there’s a free cell phone in the water hazard at hole

One Drunken Night In Spain...

I went home on leave back to Spain to see my parents and family, I thought it'd be fun if I brought my Spanish speaking friend with me so when all my family was at school or work we could go out and explore and at nights I could have a wingman at the bars.

The first night we went out we headed to this little Irish bar by the name of Molly Malones just a couple blocks from my house, about a 10 minute walk. We start out with the southern Spanish favorite Cruzcamp, and soon venture in to trying all sorts of different drinks, some Guinness, some Fosters, and Some more Guinness. Soon we start up a conversation with a couple young sailors there and begin exchanging stories of basic adventures and funny stories, everyone starts buying shots.

Being in Spain, Absinthe is readily available and legal, not like in the States, so it being my friend's first time in Europe we started taking absinthe shots, followed by some Jaeger, and Tequila. After a while I'm pretty shit faced as you can well imagine, and I look over at my friend and there are a few older men laughing at him, now in my drunken haze it looks to me like they're making fun of him either because he's American or some other reason- I didn't care. I walk up to the older men and challenge them to fight letting them know that if they stepped out I'd kick their asses. Well that goes on for about 10 minutes and I leave after having found out the old man was just exchanging stories in Spanish with my friend, and was actually the owner of the bar .

Well now it's time for the walk home, it's 3AM, and suddenly in my drunken stupor, I've forgotten where the hell I used to live, after all I haven't been home in a year. Luckily I hear the ocean and remember that I live somewhere along the coast. Unfortunately between the ocean and my friend and I is a very steep hillside covered in thorny bushes, fortunately for us we were too drunk to care. So I begin to walk down this steep hill, two steps down and I'm tumbling through thorny bushes head over heels. My friend comes down to help me up but ends up falling as well so I manage to pick myself up, only to fall again, and again, and again. I don't remember much after that, but I woke up the next day miraculously in my old bed. My mom had put on some nice white sheets which to my horror had blood stains all over them due to my little tumbling accident. My body was covered in slashes and gashes from my face (I had a slash from just aside my eye down to the corner of my mouth) down to my shins and legs. I felt like shit for 3 days afterwards.

We should've done the liquor before the beer, what were we thinking?