Drunken Diaries I
To begin this strange, yet epic and at some points disgusting tale of inebriated woe I would like to state that until college I seldom drank more than a few beers. For those slow on the uptake, I'm quite the lightweight and this story should serve as a warning for all other drinking neophytes. Now that we're through with background information let us traverse into the days of yore to find out just what crazy shit went down last night. My memory is sketchy so credit goes to Andy, Eric and Dave for filling in the blank spaces.
It was looking to be a rather slow tuesday consisting of my friends and I playing Guitar Hero and probably homework...this thought became instantly obliterated as soon as we joined up with Corey. Needless to say, this gentleman had the hook-ups and we walked anxiously back to the dorm with two gallons of Smirnoff Vodka. The liquor flowed and drunk Guitar Hero was played merrily...for roughly a half hour. You see my droogs, I had this crazy idea that I could go half and half with a twenty four ounce water bottle and orange juice as a chaser. Thinking I was fine after ten minutes I poured another, so in the space of twenty minutes I consumed an entire water bottle of vodka, fuck you orange juice for padding the kick. Within another ten minutes I bluntly asked a girl if she wanted to hook up, she said "I don't know" which got my shitfaced libido raring to go in a vain hope that with enough slurred smooth talking I might be able to score...that was until the nausea hit. At around 11:30 I decided I needed to vomit and staggered down the seemingly endless sets of stairs to the second floor. As soon as I reached the toilet everything let loose and let me tell you, Branko's chili dogs taste like shit the second time.
Filling the toilet I decided to cut that piece of porcelain some slack and thought it would be wise to move onto the sink...drunken logic does amuse me so. Somewhere around 12:30 my suite mate, Eric, comes in and finds me, laughs, then goes to show his friends outside introducing me with the tagline "Hey guys, want to see someone more fucked up than me?" Opening the door my blurred eyes fall upon Noel, Dave and Eric standing outside. Eric decides to make conversation to further the exploitation.
Eric: You okay man? You need to eat something.
Me: To quote Gene Wilder "Food makes me sick."
At this point a crowd gathered consisting of two more people, Amanda and Nick (our resident supplier of soul power). At this point, with my fantastic track record of thinking puking in the sink was a good idea I decided I might as well test my smooth talking, regardless of the crusted vomit on my chin. I first turn my attention to Noel, the most attractive of the group and began my slurred discourse.
Me: Noel, I've always though you were really gorgeous, but now you look even more gorgeous.
Noel: *Laughs*
Me: Yeah...I really hate gorgeous girls seeing me like this...
Eric: Hey Rob, if Noel looks even more gorgeous, how do I look?
Me: Like a girl dude.
Eric: How about Dave.
Me: Like a chick too man.
Eric: So in what order would you sleep with us?
Me: Fuck that, I'm not sleeping with anyone tonight.
Dave: Well, if you had no choice...
Me: Okay, okay, first Noel, then Amanda, then Nick, Eric and Dave.
Nick: You makin' the right choice, 'cause I have a bigger penis than all of'em.
Me: No dude...it wasn't that man, it was for affirmative action.
Now I know how Mel Gibson feels. After that I decided I was about due for another hearty round of wretching when the third floor RA came down on my walk back to the bathroom. I turned slowly to look at her, sloppily saluted and walked directly to my porcelain throne. How I didn't get busted then is beyond me, appartently she just said "that kid is funny" and walked off. Around 1:30ish my body realized there was nothing left in my digestive track so I might as well stop wretching...how nice. My last memory of the night was opening the door to my room so Andy was kind enough to fill me in from here. I staggered in and slammed the door loudly, waking my roommates up.
Andy: Dude, are you okay?
Me: I'm fucking lovin' this!
Just as I finished the "s" in this I tripped over the bean bag chair and dropped my keys off. Since drunken logic has yet to painfully fail me I decided it would be a great idea to strip into boxers. From there it was and arduous climb of three rungs up to my loft which mostly consisted of me yelling "fuck" and "shit" while trying to pull myself up to the second rung.
The rest, as they say, is history. I woke up at 6:30 with my head spinning impeding my desire to go back to sleep. Appartently Noel and Eric snapped a couple photos of me while trashed, here they are, for your viewing please (cut for the faint of heart).
As it stands right now at 1:45 AM Central time I'm writing this after smoking a joint and two bowls and three shots of vanilla vodka...and I told myself I'd take it easy tonight. To think I've only been at college two weeks...
It was looking to be a rather slow tuesday consisting of my friends and I playing Guitar Hero and probably homework...this thought became instantly obliterated as soon as we joined up with Corey. Needless to say, this gentleman had the hook-ups and we walked anxiously back to the dorm with two gallons of Smirnoff Vodka. The liquor flowed and drunk Guitar Hero was played merrily...for roughly a half hour. You see my droogs, I had this crazy idea that I could go half and half with a twenty four ounce water bottle and orange juice as a chaser. Thinking I was fine after ten minutes I poured another, so in the space of twenty minutes I consumed an entire water bottle of vodka, fuck you orange juice for padding the kick. Within another ten minutes I bluntly asked a girl if she wanted to hook up, she said "I don't know" which got my shitfaced libido raring to go in a vain hope that with enough slurred smooth talking I might be able to score...that was until the nausea hit. At around 11:30 I decided I needed to vomit and staggered down the seemingly endless sets of stairs to the second floor. As soon as I reached the toilet everything let loose and let me tell you, Branko's chili dogs taste like shit the second time.
Filling the toilet I decided to cut that piece of porcelain some slack and thought it would be wise to move onto the sink...drunken logic does amuse me so. Somewhere around 12:30 my suite mate, Eric, comes in and finds me, laughs, then goes to show his friends outside introducing me with the tagline "Hey guys, want to see someone more fucked up than me?" Opening the door my blurred eyes fall upon Noel, Dave and Eric standing outside. Eric decides to make conversation to further the exploitation.
Eric: You okay man? You need to eat something.
Me: To quote Gene Wilder "Food makes me sick."
At this point a crowd gathered consisting of two more people, Amanda and Nick (our resident supplier of soul power). At this point, with my fantastic track record of thinking puking in the sink was a good idea I decided I might as well test my smooth talking, regardless of the crusted vomit on my chin. I first turn my attention to Noel, the most attractive of the group and began my slurred discourse.
Me: Noel, I've always though you were really gorgeous, but now you look even more gorgeous.
Noel: *Laughs*
Me: Yeah...I really hate gorgeous girls seeing me like this...
Eric: Hey Rob, if Noel looks even more gorgeous, how do I look?
Me: Like a girl dude.
Eric: How about Dave.
Me: Like a chick too man.
Eric: So in what order would you sleep with us?
Me: Fuck that, I'm not sleeping with anyone tonight.
Dave: Well, if you had no choice...
Me: Okay, okay, first Noel, then Amanda, then Nick, Eric and Dave.
Nick: You makin' the right choice, 'cause I have a bigger penis than all of'em.
Me: No dude...it wasn't that man, it was for affirmative action.
Now I know how Mel Gibson feels. After that I decided I was about due for another hearty round of wretching when the third floor RA came down on my walk back to the bathroom. I turned slowly to look at her, sloppily saluted and walked directly to my porcelain throne. How I didn't get busted then is beyond me, appartently she just said "that kid is funny" and walked off. Around 1:30ish my body realized there was nothing left in my digestive track so I might as well stop wretching...how nice. My last memory of the night was opening the door to my room so Andy was kind enough to fill me in from here. I staggered in and slammed the door loudly, waking my roommates up.
Andy: Dude, are you okay?
Me: I'm fucking lovin' this!
Just as I finished the "s" in this I tripped over the bean bag chair and dropped my keys off. Since drunken logic has yet to painfully fail me I decided it would be a great idea to strip into boxers. From there it was and arduous climb of three rungs up to my loft which mostly consisted of me yelling "fuck" and "shit" while trying to pull myself up to the second rung.
The rest, as they say, is history. I woke up at 6:30 with my head spinning impeding my desire to go back to sleep. Appartently Noel and Eric snapped a couple photos of me while trashed, here they are, for your viewing please (cut for the faint of heart).
As it stands right now at 1:45 AM Central time I'm writing this after smoking a joint and two bowls and three shots of vanilla vodka...and I told myself I'd take it easy tonight. To think I've only been at college two weeks...