Post the stupid things you did when drunk

Biermann said:

It's 2142 here.

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I'm just waiting for it to be 420 again.

Cheesefood said:

I'm just waiting for it to be 420 again.

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umm.. .. Ok, missing the connection here. . .. :cross:


will take your word at it though

At 16, I'd just "found Jesus" (as if he were lost or something...) and I went to an off-campus, not officially school-sanctioned get acquainted dance. I parked my '64 Buick LaSabre in the cow pasture near the barn where the dance was being held. In the trunk, I had two ice chests full of fine cold beer in cans (PBR, Schlitz, Miller High Life...only the best for me and my buds). We all consumed the beer throughout the night and mostly hung out in the cow pasture. Kids were making out in cars all around us, drinking was rampant, and very few people were actually inside dancing. It was fun! At some point, I recall standing on the trunk of my car and preaching a sermon to the passers-by (who mostly kept passing by) about the evils of drinking and pre-marital sex. It's a fuzzy memory, but my friends tell my I was pretty hilarious. The other really stupid thing I did that night was drive that car home. Fortunately, I made it without incident. But I think there was a close call. I remember being scared almost sober and vowing never to drive drunk again. I think I broke that vow once or twice, but not in recent years.

the_bird said:

Methinks he may have not provided sufficient "warning" to the lady in question, and she decided that what cums around, goes around, so to speak...

EDIT: And why am I suspicious that this really happened to your "friend"?....

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Thankfully, it was really him and not me. Hell, after reading some of the posts here, I wouldn't hesitate to admit anything.

Yes, what cums around, goes around, or is it what goes around, cums back, or maybe what cums up must go down...

This is one of my worst, my bad ones involve liquor cause only liquor drunk in copious amounts like you were hosing down brew can lead to these sort of things happening. I lived in an apartment in #608, having moved from #308 2 years before. I was drinking after work with 2 friends on the 9th floor. Jaeger, 151, mulitiple shots and beers. Now the rest only comes from bits and pieces of memory and that which was relayed to me. I left to go back to my place and decided to go to the first floor to the vending machine for candy. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor in my bedroom, with bloody knuckles and a swollen right hand.

The rest of the story I found out 2 days later from the manager of the apartments. Apparently I had after getting a snickers bar had got back on the elevator and in my drunken wisdom got off at....you got it, the 3rd Floor. I must have thought I still lived there because I tried to get my key into #308. Problem is some 85 year old woman lived there now. I thought that I had been partying in my apartment not my friends and they were inside my apartment and locked me out as a joke. So I pounded on the door viciously and said I would kick their ****ing ass and yelling I'm gonna beat you senseless. Needless to say the old bird inside was terrified as some drunken slob was trying to bust down her door and attack her. I then must have figured out ok I'll show those 2 buddies of mine, they will have to come out sooner or later so I laid down in front of the door in case they came out I would notice. I awoke to 2 men in blue who must have figured out what happened and took me back to my correct apartment, which was nice of them. I also somehow broke my lazy boy that evening but have no recollection of how.:cross:

Thought I'd revive this a little. . .

I just got back from Vacation on Marco Island in Fla--- nice, 78 degree weather there. . .

Well, needless to say, I spent most of the vacation in various degrees of inebriation.

Well, one night. . . .when I was really drunk, my friends and I decided we needed to make a beer run. . .our Condo was on the 7th floor, and on the way to the elevator, I see one of my friends duck into the stairwell. . . Of course, I gave chase. My friend wasn't that far ahead of me, but I could see no sign of him below me. So I speed up, completely skipping over entire landings. I thought "damn, that is one fast mother F#@#er," and I started jumping 5-6 stairs at a time (seemed intelligent at the time). Well, about the 2nd floor, I bent my ankle at a 90 degree angle, heard an audible "pop" coming from my ankle and crashed into a wall. I layed on the floor for what seemed like an eternity, all the while feeling like I needed to piss myself due to the pain, only to have the friend I thought I was chasing come DOWN to see what was the matter.

See, when he went into the stairwell, he went up, not down. I didn't even know (or think) there was an up.

so, unable to walk, my 2 friends helped me down the stairs, and we proceeded on our beer run, on foot. I more or less crawled my way over to the store. At the store, my comrades were gracious enough to offer to push me around in the cart. We bought more beer, went back and got even more drunk. My ankle is now all black, blue and painful to walk on.

Ok... well the dumbest thing I have done when I was drunk was..... well leme explain..

It started off at a party for a friend of mine, and as such, we all got extremely hammered. I then decided to walk home from his house (very stupid, but nothing to whats coming up) which was about 1hr walk. I saw a bottle of cougar lying on his kitchen counter that he had gotten from a friend for a present, I know that my friend hated cougar, and would not miss the bottle... so I decided to take it with me as a traveler... (very stupid decision, more so then walking, but not yet NEARLY as dumb as what happaned).. so there I am walking down the road with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a drunken spring in my step, happy as I can be at 4 in the morning... by the time I made it to the school... wait, theres no school anywhere near my house.. I must have gotten lost... ohwell! hahah, I needed to take a piss anyway, so I decided to have a look around the school for some toilets...

I managed to find an unlocked set of toilets at the school, so I went in and did the buisness. I had made a decision to sit down and pee so I didnt spray all over the walls etc and make a mess for all the kids the next day at the school (a very stupid decision) and as I stood up and did a 180 spin to flush the toilet, I tripped over my pants which were down by my ankles and landed head first in / ontop of the toilet full of pee... now, its worse then it sounds because I actualy SMASHED, yes read that, SMASHED the toilet straight down the center.. I am talking the porcelain toilet part broke in two halves... piss and water went everywhere, water started gushing out of the wall and everything...

So I decided to run home... but I didnt forget my bottle of whisky! which was half full by now... or half empty... by the time I made it home I could smell piss all over myself and decided to have a shower, put on my Pyjamas and climb into bed... well I finished the bottle of whisky in the shower, put my PJs on and climbed into bed... which I then puked ALL OVER! yes, my bed, my pillow, blanket, PJs EVERYTHING... so I got up, stripped down my sheets, re made my bed with new linen, went and had ANOTHER shower.. put on fresh PJs climbed into bed and AGAIN puked all over EVERYTHING... needless to say my dad found me passed out hugging the toilet at 10:30 in the morning, a bruised and cut face, puke all over myself, my bed, my floors my walls, more sheets and PJs in the washing machine which were all covered in puke... he was NOT happy..

Since that day, I will not drink cougar bourban...

This is easy for me. Back about 1990, a good buddy of mine was going to school at LaSalle University in Philly and I paid him a visit. One night we we all went out drinking and got royally pissed. We found our way back to his dorm room and crashed. In the middle of the night, I had to take a wicked piss and set out for the bathroom down the hall. I made it there successfully and then found my way back to the dorm room door. The lock on the door was the type where you punch in a sequence of numbers. I punched in the numbers, the door opened and I went in and crawled into bed. Next thing I know it's early in the morning, I wake up and realize I'm in the wrong room. On the other side of the room is a bunk bed and a dude in the upper bunk who is looking at me like, "who the hell are you!". I then got up and found my way to the right room. My buddy immediately asked me, "Where the hell were you?". I told him what happened and proceeded to wash up and get ready for the day. As soon as we stepped out of his dorm room, someone yelled out, "There he is!" and security grabbed hold of me. They dragged me back into the room I fell asleep in. It turns out that in the middle of the night, I awoke again to take yet another wicked piss, except this time I didn't make it to the bathroom. Instead I stood there and pissed in the lower bunk bed. The kid who ordinarily slept there had been away and came back that morning to find his bed completely saturated with piss. Ultimately, I was able to explain my way out of it and it was chalked up as typical college antics; but I'll never live that one down.

drove...and got arrested...

Proposed (to several different women)

I reference my first post on this one. . .



I just ate a half jar of habanero stuffed olives. . . .and of course I'm drinking.

DAMN you'd think I'd learn eventually. . . . .

Seriously . . . . I think I'm actually having Angina. . . .

Biermann said:

Seriously . . . . I think I'm actually having Angina. . . .

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Man you gotta watch that crap.

Of course, I have no room to talk. Last Thursday night I rolled the dice on some week old chili...

At Midnight.

On top of more than a few beers.

Which was on top of no dinner.

Paid for it all weekend...

But damn, it was good at the time.

Ize

Yeah, one day on vacation, I had lots of beer, ate 2 bricks of Gouda cheese, and ate fish and shrimp that evening. My wife did not like me much the next morning.

Again, I'm sure the habaneros will exact their revenge at approximately 0900 tomorrow. Its like clockwork.

Probably my stupidest incident was three years ago on New Year's Eve. I was bartending, as I have the last six or seven New Years. New Year's Eve isn't ever super busy, but it's cool because it's a special occasion and all the employees do a pretty good amount of drinking.

This was no exception, and I was getting into EVERYTHING. Remember, I'm behind the bar, with hundreds of liquors and a hundred different beers. I don't even remember everything I had other than that it was like a freakin all you can drink buffet.

Midnight comes, and we do a massive champagne toast (we poured a couple hundred glasses of the stuff). Then we roll out a big breakfast table, with eggs, sausage, beans and rice, a mega spread. I get into all of it, basically gorge myself. By closing time, which is 2am, I'm good and wasted, and pretty much stumbling around behind the bar.

It is at this time that I notice all these partially full bottles of champagne in our ice wells, and get the great idea to start chugging the stuff. I finished off three or four half bottles, give or take, and finish closing, or so I thought. I was really just knocking stuff off the counters and not really getting anything done.

Finally, it's time to leave, and one of the cocktail waitresses asks me if I'm okay to drive. I say, well, if you're asking, I'm probably not okay. I get a ride with the other bartender and one other guy that works at the bar. Little did I know, in my massively inebriated state, that they were both hammer-wasted as well. So we all clamber into my friend's truck, and they decide they want to smoke a joint. So they drive into the neighborhood behind the bar and start puffing it up.

It is at this point that I'm starting to fill like utter sh|t, and mumble something about being sick. They pull over in front of some random house, and start yelling for me to get out and do it. So I flop into the yard, and start heaving it up, while they cheer me on at the top of their lungs.

After a few minutes, I basically crawl/mountain climb back into the truck, which seems to be ten storeys tall at this point. They're hootin and hollerin about how awesome that was, and we proceed to cruise the rest of the neighborhood with them smoking a joint and shouting and screaming out the windows while I hang my head out the window and spray a steady stream of tex-mex breakfast/champarge vomit, almost like a trail of bread crumbs, wherever we go.

We finally end up back at my friend's place, where I collapse on his living room couch and pass out. I called my brother the next morning to pick me up, and was basically non-functional the entire day. Luckily, that was a leap year, so I got a refund on that day at the end of February.

Did I mention that this neighborhood behind the bar I work is one small town, and that there is a police station right across the street from the bar? I have no idea in hell how we didn't manage to get pulled over and arrested that night. We tried pretty hard, and it was New Year's Frickin' Eve. Ah well.

I'll Post two of my stories for your guys approval, tell me how i did since i am still young and have many more mishaps to come:

Both take place in Bavaria...

First, at my birthday party we had a huge party at one of my friends house, and in the true bavarian style, they made me drink way too much. What happened was i ended up walking home with the sun slowly rising and finally got to my host families house. My key wasn't going in the hole, and i was feeling sick and couldn't hold it any longer...i puked all over the porch and a little on the side near the mail box. But, here's the great part: after quick inspection of why my key wasn't going in i realized...IT WASN'T HIS HOUSE!!!! I was two houses down and with a little grin, stumbled over to the right house and went downstairs to sleep. Woooohooo, that was close!

Next, one night after drinking 4 Liters of some hardcore Bavarian Dunkel at a medieval festival, i get picked up by a friend who informs me that we're going to a friends party. Once i get there, they're taking shots of tequila...and in my mind, acting like pussies. So i grab the bottle and start chugging. OH GOD. After that, i was king of the world, went outside, and hopped on a tractor apparently claiming: "I'm American! I can drive this thing!" Once i had it running, it started rolling no faster that .5mph and that's when i passed out in the drivers seat. Everyone who was reasonably sober tried to turn it off but couldn't figure it out, and since they couldn't really get me off they let me stay on there. I don't remember anything. But what i do remember is waking up in the middle of a field in Bavaria with the sun shining through the field's morning fog and wondering why the hell i was on a tractor in the middle of the field. It ran out of gas and i was all alone. Once again, i eventually stumbled back home and passed out only to hear about it the next month from all of my buddies.

Man, Bavaria is a wild one...

Are those ok?

OK, here's a recent one.

SWMBO was out of town from Mon - Fri last week. She came home late Friday night so I had a couple bottles of wine waiting so she could unwind and relax. We killed both bottles before going upstairs to "reaquaint" ourselves. :rockin:

On Saturday, she felt like crap all day. I felt fine. So fine, that I decided to work on the garage, getting it all organized. I went out and bought a workbench and installed it. The box weighed 130 pounds, and I loaded and unloaded it solo. Strong like ox!

Later, my back started to get sore so I took a Vicodine, then went back to work. Around 5:30, SWMBO is so proud of my work that she decides to make dinner for me and let me relax with a bourbon. After dinner, we decide we need wine and maybe a martini so I run across the street to pick up wine and vodka.

She killed an entire bottle of white wine and I polished off half a bottle of Maker's Mark before we decide it's martini time (after getting Miles to bed). I had bought a brand called Sex. We ended up killing that bottle rather quickly and decided we needed more, so it's back to the liquor store for more vodka and wine. We came back and watched American Idol (DVRd) as we finished our last martinis with Sex vodka.

Next thing I know, I hear Miles crying. To my surprise, I'm in bed. SWMBO comes into the room with Miles and puts him in the pack and play, then she climbs in bed. Neither of us know what time we went to bed. I go downstairs to get Miles a bottle of water and I see the bathroom sink is filled with vomit. I noticed that the two bottles of wine and second bottle of vodka are still untouched.

Upon returning upstairs, I see a vomit ring around SWMBO's mouth.

We spent a good portion of yesterday trying to figure out what happened. Neither of us remembers seeing the end of American Idol, but we also don't recall me going to bed or her throwing up.

She was incapacitated almost all day yesterday. I ended up putting a couple more hours into the garage, and I racked my newest beer to the corny and put it on CO2.