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.