The following summer, sometime in June, I believe, a super straigh-edge, Catholic aterserver friend of mine had a party at his parents' house, and the very idea of drinking there seemed sacriligious. That's probably why it was such a smashing success!
About 15-20 of us showed up, and the festivities rapidly got underway...and maybe a little out of hand! At this party I decided to drink my newest concoction that I found to be quite tasty: coconut rum (I brought a 26-er of it...I think you mainlanders call that a flask) and V8 Splash. I know it sounds weird, but it was really good at the time. Even the thought of it makes me urge now, though.
So the first thing I decided to do was to play drinking ping-pong with a guy who is no longer a friend of mine. The rules of this game are simple: every time you have a point scored on you, you must take a drink. The thing is, though, once the alcohol kicks in, you start getting scored on a lot, and since it goes to 21, you're in great form by the end of it. I had about 3-4 tall glasses of drink at this point.
When we went upstairs, we were getting all set up for the Animal Game (yeah, we play a lot of drinking games). Basically, everyone does a rhythmic pattern (hands on legs, chest, clap, clap, repeat) and you have to do your animal callsign to the beat and associate with a hand gesture. So how it works is, someone starts, they do their gesture and then someone elses, then that person does their own, and then someone elses, and the game keeps going and the beat gets faster and faster until someone fucks up and can't remember. Then they drink.
I picked the cobra. I have no idea, but I had a cool hand gesture for it. I thought it was cool anyway.
About halfway through the game, my friend's now-girlfriend knocked over my drink, and I screamed bloodcurdlingly. Incidentally, had I been able to drink that drink in addiition to the drinks I'd already had, plus the one I poured immediately after, I almost certainly would've ended up in hospital. That would've been moritifying!
So I polished off slightly less than 26 fluid ounces of coconut rum. I can't really remember what happened after the animal game, but I remember people wanting to head downtown. Even though I was as drunk as can be, I insisted that I be taken home. See? I'm still smart.
After being noisily sick out the window of a now ex-friend's van after assuring him that I was fine, he dropped me off at my house at around 3AM and peeled out down my street like the fucking asshole he is without making sure that I got into my house. How sweet of him, because it turns out I forgot to take my keys with me when I left.
Shit...
I tried the door and, naturally, it was locked. We didn't have a spare key outside, so I resolved that the best solution was to climb up into the flower bed and knock on my mom's window so she could let me in. I did this a few times and waited in front of the door. She didn't answer.
Here's where things get really funny.
I went around to the back of the house and tried the back door, which was also locked. That means I had one hope left: to scale up the side of my patio and go in through that door. Swaying drunkenly, I evaluated my chances of executing this successfully and determined that I probably wasn't going to get up there, but I was determined to try. So I jumped up and grasped the edge of the patio and hung there for about 20 seconds, marvelling at how little I could actually feel my arms.
I started giggling, let go, and lay down in my back yard and fell soundly asleep for about 10 minutes. I got up and decided to check the front door again and found my mother on the doorstep looking around. I gratefully entered, took off my shoes, curled up in the porch, and went to sleep. I woke up shortly after and crawled a few feet further down my hall until I passed out again.
Repeat this a few more times until I finally reached the bathroom, where I knew I'd need to be when I woke up, and I slept for about 3 hours.
And then it started. I was so sick, I thought I was going to die. I was sick from 6AM till nearly 7PM, almonst 13 hours of vomiting, seizures, a splitting headache, and eating dry cereal. And I spent the whole day with just me and my doggy. I promise that he got me through that hang over. Nothing soothes like the sympathy of a dog.
At around 7, I finally got up the nerve to drive over to Wendy's to get some food, which was the bandaid that really fixed my stomach. I made it!
That's the end of that story. While it's the sickest I've been, it's definitely not the most ridiculous of my escapades. I've got at least 2 other good ones...good God I'm sketchy! Oh well, I'll post them tomorrow.
EDIT: Oh, I forgot something that made my horrid illness affect me a little more than it normally would have. I donated blood earlier that day. So needless to say, I never gave blood and drank on the same day ever again.
About 15-20 of us showed up, and the festivities rapidly got underway...and maybe a little out of hand! At this party I decided to drink my newest concoction that I found to be quite tasty: coconut rum (I brought a 26-er of it...I think you mainlanders call that a flask) and V8 Splash. I know it sounds weird, but it was really good at the time. Even the thought of it makes me urge now, though.
So the first thing I decided to do was to play drinking ping-pong with a guy who is no longer a friend of mine. The rules of this game are simple: every time you have a point scored on you, you must take a drink. The thing is, though, once the alcohol kicks in, you start getting scored on a lot, and since it goes to 21, you're in great form by the end of it. I had about 3-4 tall glasses of drink at this point.
When we went upstairs, we were getting all set up for the Animal Game (yeah, we play a lot of drinking games). Basically, everyone does a rhythmic pattern (hands on legs, chest, clap, clap, repeat) and you have to do your animal callsign to the beat and associate with a hand gesture. So how it works is, someone starts, they do their gesture and then someone elses, then that person does their own, and then someone elses, and the game keeps going and the beat gets faster and faster until someone fucks up and can't remember. Then they drink.
I picked the cobra. I have no idea, but I had a cool hand gesture for it. I thought it was cool anyway.
About halfway through the game, my friend's now-girlfriend knocked over my drink, and I screamed bloodcurdlingly. Incidentally, had I been able to drink that drink in addiition to the drinks I'd already had, plus the one I poured immediately after, I almost certainly would've ended up in hospital. That would've been moritifying!
So I polished off slightly less than 26 fluid ounces of coconut rum. I can't really remember what happened after the animal game, but I remember people wanting to head downtown. Even though I was as drunk as can be, I insisted that I be taken home. See? I'm still smart.
After being noisily sick out the window of a now ex-friend's van after assuring him that I was fine, he dropped me off at my house at around 3AM and peeled out down my street like the fucking asshole he is without making sure that I got into my house. How sweet of him, because it turns out I forgot to take my keys with me when I left.
Shit...
I tried the door and, naturally, it was locked. We didn't have a spare key outside, so I resolved that the best solution was to climb up into the flower bed and knock on my mom's window so she could let me in. I did this a few times and waited in front of the door. She didn't answer.
Here's where things get really funny.
I went around to the back of the house and tried the back door, which was also locked. That means I had one hope left: to scale up the side of my patio and go in through that door. Swaying drunkenly, I evaluated my chances of executing this successfully and determined that I probably wasn't going to get up there, but I was determined to try. So I jumped up and grasped the edge of the patio and hung there for about 20 seconds, marvelling at how little I could actually feel my arms.
I started giggling, let go, and lay down in my back yard and fell soundly asleep for about 10 minutes. I got up and decided to check the front door again and found my mother on the doorstep looking around. I gratefully entered, took off my shoes, curled up in the porch, and went to sleep. I woke up shortly after and crawled a few feet further down my hall until I passed out again.
Repeat this a few more times until I finally reached the bathroom, where I knew I'd need to be when I woke up, and I slept for about 3 hours.
And then it started. I was so sick, I thought I was going to die. I was sick from 6AM till nearly 7PM, almonst 13 hours of vomiting, seizures, a splitting headache, and eating dry cereal. And I spent the whole day with just me and my doggy. I promise that he got me through that hang over. Nothing soothes like the sympathy of a dog.
At around 7, I finally got up the nerve to drive over to Wendy's to get some food, which was the bandaid that really fixed my stomach. I made it!
That's the end of that story. While it's the sickest I've been, it's definitely not the most ridiculous of my escapades. I've got at least 2 other good ones...good God I'm sketchy! Oh well, I'll post them tomorrow.
EDIT: Oh, I forgot something that made my horrid illness affect me a little more than it normally would have. I donated blood earlier that day. So needless to say, I never gave blood and drank on the same day ever again.