I have two:

I had a small get together when I was 15 that was BYOB. Since the month before I had a pretty big party at my house when mom was away I had a case of Old English 40oz. left over. Guess where I kept them? In my bedroom closet with no A/C getting to them.

Well, they made me drunk as all hell but later in the morning I had to head back over to Baltimore (about a 20 minute drive from my house and I WAS SOBER and able to drive) to take a friend home.

I was sooo damn sick that after I dropped him off I went to the local McDonalds to puke my inerts out. After I finished throwing up at Mc D's I passed out on the front lawn of the resuraunt. It was a warm summer day so I guess nobody thought much about it.

So, there I lay for 5 hours coming in and out of consciences. Looking at the sky begging for god to kill me. I can only imagine what the poor people eating inside McDonalds thought of me laying out in the front of the Mc Donalds all that time!






Next one was a really bad thing when I was 18;

Being that I didn't drink too much when I was younger I didn't have a tolerance or even a clue as to what my body could handle.

I drank about a pint of Goldenshlager [SP?] and then sat down to socialize with the wemonz at this party. I was a little hungry so I asked if one of them would make me a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich. Now the alcohol was starting to kick in and I was feeling good.

When the bitch brought back the sandwich I took a bite out of it and looked down. Instead of seeing Jelly, I saw nothing but bugs in the sandwich that started to crawl out onto my arms and they all started to fucking bite me!!!

I was screaming like a a bitch and nobody knew why, there I was pimp'n one second that freaking out like a nutcase the next! Well, after a few ppl calmed me down and showed me that there wasn't any bugs in my PBJ I was feeling okay about it, but to this day it totally messes with my head thinking about all the bugs that weren't really there!

And before many of you ppl ask, no I wasn't on LSD and I have never taken any drugs (unless prescribed) in my damn life!


Now, lets hear yours!

i dont know where i would even start.................

This story honestly happened to two friends of mine a couple of years back.  

Girl and guy are drinking at a party.  They start getting physical and head to one of the bedrooms.  The guy has had [b]wwwaaaaayyyyy[/b] too much to drink.  The girl is not very sexually experienced and has never had cunnilingus performed on her.  (She was a close friend of my girlfriend at the time, that's how I know the details.)  She, like most women at that stage of development, is very uncomfortable with the area "down there", and thinks a guy going down to perform his duties will be grossed out.  

Anyway, it they're fooling around in the bedroom for a while and it comes time for guy to go down on girl.  He gets a minute or two of drunken sloppiness in before - you guessed it - he loses his cookies all over her "area".  Doesn't turn to the side and do it on the bed; doesn't excuse himeself to go to the restroom; he just tosses lunch in her lap. [puke]

I don't think she's let anyone go down her ever since.

i got myself a ride to the emergency room in college

thank you 151

Never challenge a full-blown Irishman to a drinking contest…unless you are already half in the bag, then you can do so in a loud voice.  Never, once you proclaimed that you could out drink him; proceed to pull two bottles of Beefeater Gin off the shelf.

I don’t remember getting back to the ship that night, nor getting underway in the morning.

Christmas Eve 1996.  My grandmother had been in the hospital for about a month, pretty much in a coma by now after suffering a stroke in early November.  The doctors told us that unless something changed, she would die in the next couple of days (things did change, but she died two weeks later).

Anywho, I had been hanging out at a friend's house after we got back from the hospital that day.  His girlfriend came over and I left.  Went out riding around on the backroads, spotlighting deer.  Ran into my uncle, cousin, and one of their friends.  Asked if they had any beer.  They did, so we went to my uncle's house.  

He had Busch Light with the wide mouth cans.  I cracked one open and sucked it down in one gulp.  Cracked another, and sucked it down.  Ended up drinking 6 cans of beer in less than 15 minutes.  Did I mention that I hadn't eaten anything since that morning (about 12 hours previous)?  I was feeling pretty woozy, decided to go home.  Jumped in my truck and rode the middle line the five miles to my house.  I was pretty out of it.  Staggered up onto the porch, ended up puking in mom's flower bed.  Staggered into the kitchen, puked in the kitchen sink.  Staggered upstairs to the bathroom, puked in the toilet.  Went to bed a few minutes later with a splitting headache.

Woke up on Christmas morning feeling like my brains were going to squirt out of my ears.  Picked up my girlfriend and went to her grandparent's house, was in a daze all morning.

I don't know if mom or dad ever knew what I did that night.  They never mentioned it and I never said a word about it either.  That incident pretty much turned me off drinking in large quantities forever.

Tried jumping a pile if hay with my '81 olds Omega after running it around a pond in the pasture and around some adjacent fields.

*Sigh*  Its 6am on a Sunday, never went to sleep, partied all night i still dont belong in a motor vehicle.

I hit the hay pile doing about 50MPH and ramped it only to stop right on top of it. It would not budge on top of the soft hay.

What did I do? [b]What did I do?[/b]
I floored it and held it there. When I saw smoke I giggled and held it some more.

The friction from the 2 front tires ignited the hay pile.

I bailed (pun intended).  

Fire! Fire!

No hose, just the pond 100ft away in the pasture, it was apparent that bucketing water from the pond would not solve this issue but I tried for a few minutes anyway and three other of my closest drunks who awoke to watch my stunts also helped.

We gave up and went to wake Billy who was on the 2nd floor of the farmhouse in bed with some philly (pun intended). Billy happened to have a Ford 4x4 lift truck. His reponse to my request was "WHY do you want to use my truck!?" I said; "dude, look outside!". I got the keys, it was the first time he picked a woman over the risk of putting me in the driver's seat of his vehicles.

Within that 20minutes of eternity, the the pile, including the car, the dry grass around the pile, and an innocent bystander (maple tree) were on fire.

With fear that the nearby barn (full of old dry hay) would also catch, I called the FD.

In the mean time, someone had to get a log chain hook unto the bumper of a car ingulfed in flames. That someone was me. I had to be back to school on Monday. Thank God for Carharts.

We were able to pull the car off the pile before the fuel tank ignited, after the car was off, being the pyro I am, I listened for boiling fuel, I thought the clinking exhaust and charred retracting underside was boiling fuel so we stayed clear.

The FD shows up with two trucks and puts out the burning hay, tree, ground, and gives me a free car wash. One valient FF retrieves a abandoned and half empty bottle of 1500 from the back floor board.

The farm was a known party house and even without the FF's discovery, I knew it was about time to go inside and get cleaned up for Johnny Law.

I've only been drunk once, when I was 19.  I drank enough water that I didn't have a hangover.  when I was drunk, I sat around and played video games and listened to punkrock music.

good story, eh?

Did I ever tell you about the time I screwed four women with the same hard-on............

Damn. I wished they'd change the statute of limitations criteria so I could participate in threads like this.

cynic

Why do you only think I posted a teaser?

Japan, typhoon party, bottle of El Toro Tequila. I woke up with my head in a trash can and my hair full of vomit (I'm pretty sure it was mine). The transcript tells the rest.

I dunno what was worse. The morning I woke up in my Mercedes camper bus parked on Main Street, in the middle of a full-blown parade, complete with tubas, big drums and dressed-up circus elephants, me peeking out of the side window, still holding a beerstein or maybe the noon I woke up at the beach, my skin the color of a well done lobster, having slept of a night of binge-drinking with my co-workers at the rubber factory rather than working, or was it the night we've all played darts in some shady Frankfurt bar, during the course of which I seem to remember falling asleep in some whore's arm (her bed was sooo soft and warm, and me so sleeepy), was tossed out of a Turkish restaurant and wound up being totally stuck with my car between a church and the wall of the adjoining cemetery (As it turned out the next morning when I woke up at around 10 I had 6 feet clearance on either side. Sure looked tight when I parked there to take a leak.)

The last time I drank "Fish House Punch"  which was an old timey drink from 1700"s.  The fishermen use to come in to the fishhouse and pour whatever they had "left over" from fishing into a bowl and mix it up and drink it while cleaning fish.
The modern version is rum, brandy, boiled lemon juice, and white and brown sugar.  Pour it over ice and it goes down like lemonade.
Two guys I worked with and I were riding in one of them's van.  We had two 2 liter bottles of this stuff.  You can drink alot of it and seem pretty sober then all of a sudden-wham!!!
About the time it hit me the driver, Leo turned a corner and the lawn chair I was sitting it turned over with me and a full glass-fish house punch everywhere.  I got Leo to take me home and I came in the house.  My wife knew I was lit and started raising hell.  I went into the bathroom to take a leak, and while peeing, lost my balance, and grabbed a shelf that "USED" to be over the toilet, sending shampoo bottles, combs etc flying.  My wife hearing the ruckus, came in to bitch at me; which is when I turned to talk to her, still peeing and peed on her foot.  Needless to say, she was not happy.
The next day I drug into work still drunk.  It took 2 days to recover.  Leo and the other guy didn't even come to work the next day.  I found out that Leo cleaned out a ditch and ran over a stop sign on the way home. He had a great big dent in the front of his van.  
That was the last time I got wasted.

You people are amateurs. Go read these:

[URL]http://www.tuckermax.com/bd.htm[/URL]

I have a good one, but it would take to long to post it.  It involved malt liquor, hard liquor, and a late-night walk through a not-so-nice neighborhood when my (drunk) friend thought it would be cool to break into someone's car.  The alarm went off and a very pissed of gang-banger chased us down the road then he caught us, punched me in the face and then started chasing me around with the "Club" (that you put on the steering wheel).  Then he ordered me and my friend to follow him back to his crib.  I didn't want to die and at that point I was sick of trying to watch out for my boy so at the next cross street I pretended to puke in the bushes on the street corner and kept pretending to puke until the gangbanger and my friend were far enough down the road then I took off down the side street, through some people's yards (dogs going crazy) and into a small forest on a very steep hill.  I hauled ass halfway down the hill, slid, tripped and was covered with mud and layed low for 15 minutes then found my way back to the party where I told everyone what happened and that we had to go find our friend.

Fortunately, the cops had been called and they sent my friend home before the gang bangers to get around to whooping his ass.  He was damn lucky.

I woke up the next day and felt worse than I ever did.  It took me 1/2 hour to get out of my building, then I had to wait for another 30-45 minutes, then I had to keep going (plan was to buy asprin at the 7/11 1/2 block away).  Well I staggered to the 7/11 but just before going in I knew I had to do it.  I ran across the street and barfed in the bushes.  I went back to the 7/11 bought 4 advils and a mountain dew (for the caffeine) and downed all of it.  3 hours later I was feeling fine.

But goddamn my head hurt.  For some reason I think it was the physical exertion of running from the guy and then all the walking around trying to find my friend that aggravated my hangover the next day.  Shit that was bad!  But it makes for a good story!

-Nick Viejo.

I'm german american, and started drinking with some irish americans on st pats.

Many Bush Blacks later, I was sicker than a dog. I barely made it inot work the next day, several hours late.

Then there was the day the E club at Yuma served a special batch of bud light, on sale, and the aftermath the next day of deadly sick enlisted.

passing out on my floor waking up not remembering how much i drank till i started cleaning up the place. Drank about 20 cans of budweiser in one sitting apperently  since i was the only one home that night.

Woo hoo! I did that but only with 7 Miller High Lifes. I was at a convention and didn't get invited to one of the many multi-room parties so I started drinking from the ice chest someone left in my room. I felt fine for about 20 minutes then it hit me like a ton of bricks. While I was passed out on the floor and was going in and out of consciousness I remember hearing the people I shared the room with saying something "Dude, he might die like that guy from Iron Maiden(?) if he throws up". The next day my head was pounding and I was barfing like there was no tomorrow. I was so sick I called the front desk and begged them so send up some pepto bismol and aspirin but they just laughed. The one of the idiots sharing the room tells me "Dude, you should try to eat. It will make you feel better." So I tried to eat an MRE and that was a big mistake. My stomach starts heaving and I stumble to the bathroom but mr. idiot was in there taking a shower. So I barfed into the only thing within reach, the ice bucket. Since the hotel didn't want to help me, I glued the lid on and locked it in the room safe when I left.

Ever since that experience, just the sight of a Miller High Life can makes me feel queasy.

I'll try to give the short version...

I spent the summer of '83 in Solomon's Island in Maryland...my dad had just bought a 27" boat, and I was collecting unemployment waiting for a new job to start in August.  One Fir. night, I was hanging out at this little bar where I knew some guys...one of 'em was bartending.  At some point, I got really drunk and tried to pick up his cousin...he gave me 2 or 3 Mai Tais with about 2" of 151 on the top of each one.  Sent me back to the boat staggering drunk, and got me away from his cousin.  Woke up with  a terrible hangover on Saturday.  

At some point Fri. night, my bartender buddy and a couple of other guys thought it would be fun to go fishing on Sat...so when they got off work at 6:00pm, we loaded many beers on to the boat, and went out in the Chesapeake bay to drift fish for sea trout.  

After a couple of hours of drinking and no fish, we decided to head in...it was fairly windy, so we must have drifted for quite a while.  By this time, it was pitch black out...we figured out where we were, finally, and I managed to find the mouth of the PAX river, so I *though* I knew right were I was.  Cruising along at about 25 knots, I was 1 day marker off...made  a hard right where I shoulda made a left, (or vice versa) and put all 27' of the boat up on the beach...I think we hit the beach at just the right angle to launch us lol.  

We called the Coast Guard, and they laughed at us...there was about 8' of sand between the stern and the water...we weren't going anywhere.  

One by one, the guys with me bailed, leaving me behind with a beached boat, and a lot of beer.  I drank myself to sleep...woke up the next day face down in the berth...and thought, "it must be really calm, the boat's not rocking".  It took me about a minute to remember what had happened, like a bad dream.  I stumbled to the back of the cabin, threw open the door, and stepped up onto the deck...to be greeted by this perfect sunny day, and about 30 boats all stopped to marvel at the boat on the beach!  They started honking horns at me when they saw me.  

A huge tug boat that was pushing 2 barges of sand pulled me off at high tide, and I ended up not doing any damage to the boat...but man, did my pride suffer lol.  

Years later, I told that story to a guy at a video store...he looked at me funny, and said "that was YOU?"  My ruputation had preceeded me hehehe.  Believe it or not, this IS the short version of the story...I've left out some colorful stuff.

Most of my weekends were like this...this isn't the only story like this one hehe.  I don't drink much anymore...and stuff like this doesn't happen to me...go figure!  

Now why did you want to bring that topic up? [:)]

My aversion to rum is complete.

[puke]

ya know.. that last bit sounds like one of those short scifi stories i saw years ago.. bunch of bugs consumed the city i belive.. another in the group of shorts was some little guy who lived in a mousehole that looked kinda like a old elf.

freaked me out when i was a little kid. havent seen them since.. cant recall what the title was!

I've got a few drunken shananigins (sp?) under my belt, but none are as fond to me as my 1st.  Though it's probably not the best/funniest, it is my favorite b/c it was my 1st.  

About 6-7 years ago, still living at home w/ the parents, I decided to venture from my East side of Cleveland home to Kent State University for a part of a friend of mine.  Just so happened that it was my 18th B-Day.  Started out a quaint party, about 15 of us that worked and went to school together, but it soon became a half way decent college party.  I though, SWEET, my 1st college party.  Not knowing how much alcohol I could tolerate, being green to the game and all, I kept pouring it down, one after the other, beer, liquour, jello shots.  Then someone had the bright idea to get Papa John's.  My body does not except alcohol and dairy at all.  Needless to say, promptly after eating the pizza, I made way to the 3rd or 4th floor balcony to release the deamons w/ in my stomach.  The only solace to vomiting that night was getting to watch it rain down 4 stories onto the lawn furniture and other yard ammenities below.  I remember some fat guy trying to keep me from falling over the ledge.  I then returned to the drunken debochary inside the appartment, and eventually passed out somewhere between the bathroom and the living room.  Woke up the next morning, drove home, and tried to hide the hangover from the parents.  I think I suceeded.  

I was 17 and and doing a lil' roadie work with a "weekend, sports bar, classic rock/top 40 type" band on a Friday Night.  What a kick-ass band!  Incredible vocal harmonies, screaming guitar licks, along with good songs and I was in heaven.  The guitarist of said band was also my instructor, so I was more than happy to help out for free.  

Well, not [i]exactly[/i] for free.  The tried and true phrase "I'm with the band", spoken to the bartender, had yet to fail me.  So it was, that splendid Friday eve, that I found myself dancing.  Dancing with my (amazingly hot) girlfriend.. dancing with my aforementioned guitar instructor's (amazingly hot) girlfriend.  (He didnt seem to mind; he was preoccupied, eh? [:D])  Dancing with those little 6oz? plastic cups about half filled with Crown Royal. I realized I couldn't drink whiskey non-stop, so of course I had to take a "break" between each cup for a refreshing bottle of Heineken.  Hey, it's free right?

This went on for a good four hours.  It was a blast.  Until my inner voice tells me I need to lay down RFN.  I headed up a short flight of stairs, right behind the stage, to a backstage area that the band calls home for the duration of the show.  I know by the setlist that the band is approaching the end of the show with only a few songs remaining.  I was stopped on the way up by some other unidentified woman who obviously wanted to have a conversation or something, but hey, I gotta lay down RFN.

This would definitely be where my party ended. I felt OK for a bit listening to the pounding music reverbate through my skull.  As I lay there, face up to the ceiling, the room began to spin.  Not a dedicated, all-around spin.  It was more of a "shifting spin."  The room would rotate about 60 degrees clockwise followed by an abrupt shift back to center.  This was on a continual basis.  

After the band had packed up, I remember being helped to the back of someone's car.  We were going to make the customary A.M. trip to Denny's to get some breakfast.  

I went without breakfast.

Well, I have two.  My first one was when I first got to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.  It was the weekend of July 4th, and my platoon had it off fortunately.  I was new and my squad invited me into "the game."  It turned out to be quarters (The shotglass was a fired m203, 40mm grenade shell).  Anyways, to make a long story short, between 5 of us, we drank down a gallon of southern comfort, a 1/5 of black velvet, a 1/5 of bacardi spiced rum and I made it half way through a 1/5 of jack.  I was drunk for the next 3 days straight.  Not hung over, drunk.  There's a saying, whoever goes down there, comes back a drunk.  Tis true...

Second, I was on the USS Essex, and we were ported in Sasabo.  A few friends and me decided to go to the local enlisted club.  We started playing pool for drinks, and as every1 does, I play better drunk, started as beers, graduated to shots and screwdrivers, then after we were thoroughly sloshed, we went upstairs to the dance floor, and bar.  I *tripped* going up and the bouncer said no more, I said ok.  Kept drinking anyways.  Finally left, don't member leaving, don't member walking back to ship.  Don't member swabbing the deck in boots and skivies after I hurled.  Apparently I did since they had pics though.  Anyways, my friend who was OOD that night, said a guy who looked like me came up hanging on two guys and almost rammed his face into a post.  Sure glad that wasn't me, just a look alike!!!  [beer]

I think pics are needed to verify the truthfulness of said event [:D]

I have so many I don't know where to begin, really.

The one my dad likes to quote goes like this:

He found me sleeping in the yard, in a snowstorm at 8am.  My car was parked in the yard next to me, door open, keys in the ignition, alert chime ringing.  I was like 22 or something.  I don't remember much except waking up with 4" of snow on me.

I remember these two chics and myself had some fun one night.  Not really drinking much.

Bunch of friends and myself used to go drinking 6 nights a week and I mean DRINKING!  Saturdays we went to a place off South Street called "Who's On Third" and another on South Street called "Quincy's".  Had some adventures at these places.  There were a few places we frequented down there.  One time I put my hand up to pet a police horse, the fucker went nuts!  Cop was all pissed at me.  The summer shore house was another level all together.  

I remember I was at this place called Mako's on South Street and these bikers roll in.  So there's these two hot biker chics making out at the bar.  I said something to one of them.  Next thing she and her friend are all over me kissing grabbing etc.  I'm thinking I'm in for an ass kicking by her boyfriend.  Turned out he was cool about it and asked if I wanted to "borrow" her for the night.  I declined.

One time I woke up in some chics apt in Manhatten.  Nice place, don't remember getting there.  I guess I banged her as I was naked and so was she.  Hopped the train home, friends thought I got arrested or something.

My buddy's and I used to play "3 Man" with hard liquor.  

I remember this place in Wildwood, NJ about 10 years ago called The Shamrock Bar and Grille.  There was this guy who would sing with a guitar.  Had some chics top off at the bar one night!  Everyone was cheering us on.  That was when the places there were open til' 5am.  Now the place is a dump.

Then there's Sea Isle City and LBI.  Had summer houses there too!  Some wild stuff went on at these places.  Spent so much $$$ I can't even begin to imagine!

I could fill up pages of these type of stories.  I really am surprised I made it through my youth.

Two more...

Was "camping" with some friends on a cold October night.  Was just two of us to start with.  We had a 12-pack of Coors, a pint of Early Times, two 16 oz. bottles of Mello Yello, and a skillet full of stew beef, onions, and peppers (our usual camping fare).  We had a few beers and a few slugs of the ET.  Then we tried mixing the ET and the MY.  NOT GOOD!  He decides he going to go spend the night with his girlfriend (i.e. fuck her all night), and leaves.  He wasn't familiar with the area and ended up coming out of the woods about a half mile from his truck.  Ended up getting covered in mud from falling into ditches walking to the truck.  I ended up falling asleep (with a pair of insulated coveralls & muddy boots) in my sleeping bag.  

Wake up to the sound of my other two friends crashing through the woods.  They show up with a 12-pack of Michelob Light.  I had reduced the 12 of Coors to about 4.  They finshed up the Coors and then we started on the Michelob Light.  One of the guys eats the cold food out of the skillet, then we decided to walk out to our trucks (about 1/2 mile) and listen to the radio.

So three of us are sitting in the cab of a small Toyota pickup, listening to the radio and talking about girls.  I get a cramp and get out of the truck and go stand with my head in the driver's side window.  After a few minutes, my friend motions for me to move.  He opened the door, stretched out his neck, and threw up the previous night's dinner (large T-bone, baked potato, etc.).  Just closed the door & went back to talking. We all ended up falling asleep, woke up with frost in my beard.  No bad hangover after that one.

Was at a week-long training session in 97.  From the late 80s to the late 90s, this school had been known as the week to stay drunk.  People would come in on Sunday, get drunk Sunday night, and stay that way until they left Friday afternoon.  The people who ran the school helped that out by having a party on Wednesday night with free beer & wine.  They would usually limit people to four drinks, but in 97 they didn't limit us.

They had Bud & Bud Light on tap, putting it into those little 8 oz. juice glasses.  I started drinking around 8PM and by 10PM had been through about 15-20 of those little glasses.  They shut everything down and I staggered up to a friend's room to raid his ice chest.  Walk in, grab a beer and lie down on the bed.  In walks his roomate and a woman they worked with.  We sat there for a while drinking and chatting, then one of the guys says he'd like to have a smoke.  I pull a pack of cigs out of my pocket and offer him one.  He turns them down, saying he doesn't smoke that brand.  Grabs a little shaving bag out of his suitcase and goes into the bathroom.

Comes out about 5 minutes later and sits on the foot of the bed.  Next thing I know the three of them are lighting up a joint.  After they pass it around a few times, he asked if I wanted a hit.  I acted like I had to puke and staggered out of the room.  Ended up going back to my room & calling a bunch of friends & talking their ears off.  Overslept the next morning and missed a quiz.  My head was about to explode.

As for the guys that were smoking the J, one of them ended up getting fired for drugs, the other came close.

AAAAAAAAALLLLLLL the drinking I have done, I have NO IDEA what the hell a hangover is.

There was one time I was so f**ked up, and (underage) was walking home from the park we decide to grab a pizza. I remember one of my friends 6foot ape named Danny sprinkling salt in my hair... everyone was laughing at my expense.

At that same time I look and in my hands I am holding a big jar of parmesean cheese, I look up at Danny, then look back to the jar of parmesean cheese...THIS TIME IT WAS EMPTY!!!!

At the same time there was a HUGE mountain of cheese on Danny's head and jacket. I guess I did it from what I was told.

Next thing I notice, I have taken flight at the hands of traffic controller Dan. Into the HUGE pile of garbage RIGHT NEXT TO A COP!!!

So I decide to do the right thing. What else but:

"OFFER THE COP A BEER!!"

Cop was cool... told us to go home.

next morning ALL my friends were to sick to hang out. I was fine.

As I said...NEVER had a hangover... sorry guys.

uhhg...gimme till morning to try to remember what happened last night

LOL Some really great posts in here fellas! [beer]

Keep them coming!

Well you can check out my post in the Military section about Hughy and his trying to pet the skunk.

My Dad's PD got trustees from LA County.  They worked as janitors for the PD, FD and City Hall.  One of their regulars came up to us in town one evening and tried to hit us up for "Fifty cents for a bottle of SOUP."

Long story short...

It involved [s]stolen[/s] borrowed Cutty Sark scotch, 3 countries, international date line and, alcohol poisoning.  [BD]

Semper Fi  [:D]

It was my 20th birthday and I was over at a friends house with "college chicks."  This one girl with a great look was giving me the eye, so we started talking.  I was 6'3" and 240 at the time, and could drink like a pro.  She was 5'4", 110lbs, and thought she could keep up.  After a few screwdrivers, I somehow ended up on the floor on my back with her straddling me and kissing me like mad.  I heard my friend say "Look!  Joe's a circus ride!"  The next thing I know, the girl stops kissing me, sits upright with eyes big as saucers, and then pukes all over me!  She just ruined my favorite shirt, but I'm cool about it.

I get up, carry her to the bathroom, and then hold her hair while she proceeds to puke her guts out.  After she finally stops, she's a bit incoherent.  I take her up to my friend's guest bedroom and lay her on the bed, mindful to put her on her side so she doesn't pull a Rockstar and choke on vomit.  This is about 10:00 PM.  At 2:00AM I realize I've left this poor girl up in the guest bedroom for four hours and haven't checked on her.  I panic, and head up the stairs afraid of what I might find.  I walk in the door and she's sitting on the bed.  She checks that it's me.  I say yes and I was coming to check on her.  It's at that point that she jumps me and we have sex.  There's only one problem.  I find out a day later she's only 16, even though she told me she was in college!  Scared the crap out of me.

Remember the Alamo, and God Bless Texas...

One of my other favorite stories involves a pool party at a friends house.  We're drinking like mad all night and swimming.  I get to third base with this girl in the pool.  I've drank a liter of Absolut Citron over the period of about 5 hours, and I'm kind of gone.  A friend of mine who just got back from Germany shows up and we start doing shots of Goldschalger.  Apparently one of them goes down the wrong way and I start puking on the side of the pool for a good couple of minutes with everyone staring.  As soon as I stop puking I look at the mess, and say "Man, I don't remember eating french fries!"  Everyone starts laughing uncontrollably, but the drinking pretty much stops for the night there.

Remember the Alamo, and God Bless Texas...

And this one is the one that almost killed me.  Dec 31, 1994.  I'm 18 years old and at my friends New Years eve party.  They're doing shots of Tequila, and always end up with 3 people and 4 shot glasses.  Someone watching said they stopped counting when I did my 27th shot of tequilla.  I apparently stopped counting after the fifth.  Shortly after that I get in a fight with this girl I'm trying to woo, and I end up blacking out at the top of the stairs.  It's at that point I start puking up all the tequila I've been ingesting.  It's a sectional staircase with three sections.  Each section is 90 degrees from the previous.  I remember puking from the top of the stairfase and somehow hitting the very bottom of the staircase before I black out again.  I came to long enough to hear my roommate Jason asking for stuff to clean up the puke and one of the guys who lived there saying "Did he eat corn?"  I then blacked out completely and woke up 14 hours later in my friend Thalia's bed.  She apparently slept on the floor.  I had puked all over myself and her bed.  Every pore of my body hurt.  My hair hurt.  I smelled like a combination of urine and vomit.  When I made it to my car in the parking lot, I discovered my keys were locked in the car.  So, I had to unlock the car with a coathanger with a raging hangover and covered in my own dried vomit.

I've never had tequila straight like that since, and in mixed drinks if it's too strong I can't stand the smell.

Remember the Alamo, and God Bless Texas...

Oh hell no!  How could I forget this one?


I was at a buddy of mine's house and we and a couple other guys over there were slammin' some beers.  It was pretty early in the morning, but we were off that day (we worked at the same place).  

I have the bad side effect of not being hungry, and therefore not eating, when I drink.  So it wasnt an entirely long time before I felt that I should lay down RFN.

I woke up in the darkness on my couch at home.  Being disorientated and feeling a little rough, I looked in the direction of the clock. Nada. Power's out.  The watch I found in another room told me it was 2 AM.  

Turns out the power was no more due to tornado damage.  Apparently, shortly after I left this drinking binge, a funnel cloud had started down a few miles from my house and developed directly over my neighborhood before touching down approximately 2 miles from me.  The guys I was drinking with earlier got the best view, at less than a half mile from touchdown.  I missed the "tornado party" [:(]  I even got to hear the description of "the sound of a freight train"

Yes, I slept through a tornado.

Alcohol is a drug, so is nicotine.

One classic of mine (I've had way too many to tell about here. I could write a book on my drinking experiences) was set just after my Junior year of High School. I went camping with my friend and his family  to a place in central Wisconsin that has in the center of the campground, a rock formation that easily scales 150'. the front is a sheer drop, while the back side is easily climed w/o equipment.
There were a lot of regulars in this campground, and as a result, Ryan's family knew most of them and they knew Ryan. Along comes me. I wouldn't say I was suicidal in my youth, but more bent on self-destruction. I drank and smoked and partied real hard. We smuggled a bottle of mexican brandy along on this trip, and the first chance we got, we rounded up all the other kids our age and proceded to climb the rock and drink. We ran out of brandy within a couple of hours, and Ryan and I snuck back into the trailer and snagged about a twelve pack of various beers. We climbed back up the top, and partied some more. About 4 or 5 of us wound up passing out up there. I remember waking up the next morning, not knowing where I was. I sat up and looked around. the first thing I saw was nothing...literally nothing in front of me. At least not until 150' down there was nothing. Once I figured out where I was, I had to figure out who the brunette teen next to me was. (turns out she was Ginger, from Miami...up visiting her grandparents for a couple of weeks.) I woke her up and told her not to move....she promptly proceded to puke over the edge. By the time the puke hit the bottom, it was pretty well dispersed into a mist like state (except for the chunks).

Another one was at a friends 21st B-day party. I was absolutely hammered. My gf gave me a ride home, and dropped me off at the curb. I must have veered off course on the way to my door, because the next thing I know I am waking up in a puddle of vomit, with the nieghbor's dog sniffing and licking my facethe next morning..
I was three houses down from my apartment. I had grass stains on my elbows and legs...and what appeared to be grass stains on my forehead as well.

Another story involving a Jimmy Buffet concert and taking a swan dive off the tailgate of a pickup truck in the parking lot.

One story of drinking until I passed out...of the bar stool I had been occupying for several hours. My friends dragged me to a booth and propped me up in the corner. I vaguely remember it, but people were sitting in the same booth and drinking right next to me...and they were total strangers.

another story of losing my underwear off the back of a boat at 3:00 a.m....

Skinny dipping and dancing nude on the end of a pier at 5:00 in the afternoon...

Ah the good old days...I guess grwing up on Wisconsin..we have one of the highest alcohol consupmtion rates in the US per capita, I built up a tolerance at an early age. I no  longer drink as heavy or as often, but occasionaly go out on a binder. hangovers are not a real bad problem for me, just facing the people that I made an ass out of my self in front of again is the worst of it.

I was 14 and lived in Puerto Rico. I had 5th of DON Q rum 151 proof. I drank till I pass out, I am pretty sure I drank most of it. I woke up on someone lawn the next day miles from were I started. I was so sick I crawled in to a bush for a few hours and crawled out to drink from the hose. Walk the few miles to my house in 3 hours. I was sick for a week or more.

Went to a party with some friends and played Quarters with two cases of beer.  Finished that.  Then someone suggests playing with a jug of moonshine he bought.  

Got alcohol poisoning and was taken to the hospital for an EKG.  Thought I was gonna die.  The staff at the hospital at Ft Belvoir laughed at my sorry ass.

I have no memory of the party nor how I got home, but I ran into many people who were there that night.  They said we were doing handstands in the living room and toppeling into the furniture like drunken retards.  

By any chance, did you end up on Drum Point?

I just remembered another...
Mid '80's, I was a skate boarder. I was boarding home from a party one night, not too drunk, just enough to give me a little extra courage. I was coming to the down town area, and there was a florist shop with a wicked set of front steps and a handrail that was just screaming for me to grind it. I gathered enough speed. made the transition to the rail...only I never hit the rail. What I didn't see was the awning thing over the entrance. My forehead hit the support assembly squarely. I remember landing flat on my back and watching my board go scooting down the street w/o me. I reached up the where my head was hurting and it was all warm and slippery. I had a 3" gash just above the hairline on my forehead. Talk about becoming sober instantly. I gathered my wits and hopped back onto my board and skated to the fire department/ems station. My friend's dad was fire chief at the time...and he was at the station (off duty) when I pulled in. He was kind enough to call my parents (he lived two blocks away from my parents) and he took me to the hospital.

All i remember was a litter of graves 195 proof grain me and my freind and doing handstands in his hall

Stephen King's Cat's Eye.  Pretty piss poor version of some good stories.

Seeing as how I routinely polished off 1/5 tequila when drinking, I think it's safe to say that I used to have a bit of a problem with alcoholism.  Needless to say, my drunken stoopidity stories are endless, but there are two that always make me smile.

I was commercial fishing (purse seining) one summer.  We were actually doing some survey work making test sets so it was a very laid back month.  This led to a few nights of heavy drinking with my Uncle and the rest of the crew.  (Normally, we don't drink while working.  Gotta bust ass while the fish are running.)  That night I powered down 3/4's a bottle of Attikiska Vodka and several beers.  (Keep in mind that I probably weighed about 110 at this point).  I spent most of the night on the deck puking and praying for help from above.  The next morning, I'm still sleeping on the deck and there is a patch of abraided skin on my cheek from the gravelled deck.  I suspect I took a header from my knees at one point.  The weather is fairly nasty, we have to make a set and I'm still partially drunk.  I'm standing on deck, holding on to the seine as it comes in, stacking the corks.  The whole time I'm swaying with the roll of the chop.  If I hadn't had the seine to hold onto, I would've been swimming.  Several times during the set, I had to vomit.  Can't stop working, so it's turn the head and vomit.  Thank goodness for Hally Henson raingear.  Afterwards, everyone had a good laugh as they hosed me off. I quit drinking like that (for the most part) the next semester when I gave myself a 30 hour black out and alcohol poisoning thanks to our good friend Jose.

Every now and then I do tie one on.  Christmas Eve 2001 was one of those nights.  I went to CE Mass with my neighbor and some of her friends.  Then we started socializing at the apartment.  Word to the wise:  When the FOB Irishman gets on his chair and starts James Connolly and other political works don't accept his offer to drink with him.  Further, quit drinking once the entire house is drinking and singing Irish Pub Songs.  When every male in the room, including Mr. Irish Accent So Damn Thick It Makes Guiness Look Like Urine, starts singing Sgt. Barry Sandler's Ballad Of The Green Beret, it's time to go upstairs and call it a night.

I went to Oktoberfest in Munchen once and pulled an entire tent down on about two hundred angry Wolfgangs and Helgas...I got thumped by that stupid little rubber stick the Polizei used to carry and woke up covered in vomit in the back of a deuce-and-a-half.  I'm still not sure how I got out of jail.

Coming soon, my college drunk stories..please stand by

Woke up in someone's boat parked in their driveway. Don't know who's. Don't know how the fuck I ended up there, or what I did the night before.

Must've been a lot of booze, 'cause the last thing I remember up to that point was dinner at my uncles house.

What better start of a drunk than the Army.  I make it through BCT and AIT with only minor periods of drunkdom.  First duty station was a totally diff story.  Why?  Well, I had blown 2 weeks of vacation after AIT and during Christmas exodus so I wanted to get to the DS before New Year's Day.  I got there the 30th.  No inprocessing other than a room key, sheets and a brief intor to my new post.

Meet up with some of the Joes, hit the mess hall and find my place.  New Year's Eve.  PFC Eyre says they are going to the club.  I tag along, noting its a distant 5 miles from the barracks and they took a cab.

Round after round was served.  You name it, if the Class Six had it, it was served.  Then midnight.  Champagne...and after that I do not remember.  Anything.  Entered blackout drive sometime on Jan 1, 1988.  Woke up in the room I had been assigned, in my assigned bed and with the blanket neatly arranged over the bed.  

I get up to purge and see the jeans I had worn were neatly folded over the chair but were absolutely covered in mud.  Ditto for the shirt.  And coat.

I spent that day recovering, scared shltless that Top had bailed me out of the MP slammer for PI.  Then the weekend (yes, Jan 1, 1988 was a Friday) wait.  On Monday, Top was back.  OMG, this was Barney Rubble's lost brother with a bad attitude.  Introduction was made..."Private J, this here is First Sergent T."  OMG, his hands felt like he had could have castrated Godzilla with his freaking little finger.

After a forced smile, he sks where I am from..."Texas"...he forces a smile and says "As long as the Coyboys lose to the Redskins, we are going to be all right.".  I mention the only thing good about the 'Boys is Tom Landry.  He laughs and nothing else, no mention about bail, no word on New Year's Day.

DAMN, I WALKED 5 MILES OVER A FREAKING CONSTRUCTION SITE TO BARRACKS THAT LOOKED LIKE A HOUSING PROJECT< REMEMBERED MY ROOM AND MANAGED ALL THAT WITHOUT ATTRACTING ANY MP ACTION?  DAMN I'M GOOD!!!

Later on that same year a CID investigator befriends me in the barracks complex.  We go back to her room to drink, she mixes the screwdrivers.  WTF, the post commander prohibited distilled spirits but I figured if I didn't touch the bottle, no harm, no foul.  Everytime I went to relieve myself, she tops off my drink with vodka alone.  We killed 2 liters that night.  Again, Blackout Drive engaged.  I made it back to my room where I proceeded to spew supper and screwdrivers into my freshly done laundry.  It looked like fetticuni al barfo.  

Do you remember the Dead Kennedy's song "Too Drunk To Fvck"?  That was me.

On the other side, as first a Marine and then an MP in the army I saw a lot of really really drunk people.
Remember the navy stretchers with the straps and the face hole so guys dragged back to the dock don't drown in puke?

I saw a lot of guys in my unit that I thought were really drunk, then I became an MP.

Wow. On a weekly basis I saw guys with the white foam in their mouths. If the medics didn't keep suctioning their airways they would die.

Then there were the sad totally ripped guys trying to stumble walk from a club to their barracks in the dead of winter w/o a coat.  I would offer a ride, but many would refuse or run away from the MP(OS) mobile.  Some would accept a ride when I explained I was a guardsman on invol AD.