Ok, so we've all enjoyed a good booze-up. But there's times when things go sour. Perhaps they started sour and were just exacerbated by the booze. Perhaps there's times when you've lost a few hours or days of your life to the wicked liquor. Times when you've woken with unexplained bruises, aches and itches. Myself, I have a few. Top of the list might be when, disgruntled at the break up of a relationship, I visited the house of my (former) gf, had a massive argument, left a hole in her plasterboard wall, then proceeded to fall off the footpath and break two bones in my foot. The upshot was that in the morning, (when I discovered my injuries) because I'd pissed so many people off the night before, no-one was willing to give me a hand getting to hospital - I ended up walking to the nearest public payphone to call a taxi to take me to hospital. Alcohol is a wonderful thing. What's the worst hand that Lady Alcohol has dealt you?
Well, there's a 2 inch scar on my head from an incident in high school. Nowadays, it's mainly just a big belly.
Well, you've never lived until you've gone to serenade a girl outside her window in the middle of the night... ...and gone to the wrong window. Damn you cheap vodka!!!
Hmm... I've started practicing Parkour (the people who jump off buildings and stuff)... Jumped off a friend's roof once...hurt foot. Jumped off 2nd story balcony once...hurt foot, also landed in bushes. (dont remember the following)...fell asleep on the grass, walked to my friends truck, got in, threw up on myself and his truck, later woke up in a racecar bed not knowing how i got there. i was sure someone threw up on me. Running away from security by way of rooftops. And like everyone, the drunken phone calls...
Let's See On The Night Of My 21st B-day I Broke My Wrist And Did Not Even Realize It Until The Next Morning. So Yeah Woke Up On My B-day Kinda Hung Over With My Wrist Really F-ing Swollen And Till This Day I Don't Know How It Happened And My Friends Don't Remember Either.
Another occasion from the drawer... For my 21st birthday my family clubbed together and got me a skiing holiday in Austria. I was going through a bit of a hedonist period in life at this time, foreign travel didn't dampen it. The flight was at 6am, I had to be there several hours earlier to pick up the tickets etc. So basically I figured that going to bed would be a bit of a waste of time because I'd need to get up at about 3am anyway. So, after packing through the night I set off with my dad to the airport - not before I had consumed some errr... pharmaceuticals to keep me alert and awake. These kept me wired until halfway through the flight. I got to the hotel after the transfer, coming down off the 'pharmaceuticals'. The hotel provided an evening meal and tragically, free, unlimited wine. I'd had nothing to eat all day, was coming down off dodgy stuff, and was sure the altitude wouldn't help me. I couldn't eat but I could drink. I finished off about a litre of wine pretty rapidly, then started on the next jug. I went to Austria alone since no-one I knew skied, I was prepared for this however and made attempts to ingratiate myself with the holiday reps. This I did and proceeded to go out 'on the town' with them. By the time this happened the wine had kicked in considerably. I can't remember leaving the hotel - not a good sign for the rest of the evening. We all apparently went to a number of bars where copious new and foreign drinks were consumed (interestingly it was my first experience of the red bull and vodka combination. 'fluegels' they were called - made of redbull and red vodka, with a few gummi bears in the bottom of the glass - highly addictive). It then started to go a bit weird. At some point I got seperated from the people who knew the area - I found out later in the holiday that I had attempted to enter the jumper area of the hotel nanny, from that point on I think they took the decision to leave me to the elements. I continued drinking, offering the barstaff UK money and complaining when they would annoyingly only accept Austrian schillings. I must have left at some point and wandered around the village/town. It must, at some point have dawned on me that I didn't know where the hell I was, what my hotel even looked like and what the hell I was going to do. My only 'recollection' of much of those lost 4/5 hours comes from the state of my clothes. I figure I fell into someone's garden and had an accident with half a bottle of red wine, such was the damage done to my freshly laundered cream coat. I needed to get to my hotel and I figured I needed help doing it. It was coming up to 'chuck-out' time (3am or so) and I saw my opportunity. I approached a gentleman who was seemingly in a similar state of being 'tired and emotional'. I gathered myself together and decided to dust off my GCSE German abilities. I approached him, said to him in broken German that I was English (that said it all) and that I couldn't find my hotel. Funnily he couldn't be arsed with this, drunkenly growled at me and pushed me away. I then saw a group of girls waiting seemingly for a taxi. I attempted the German from before -despite them being Austrian, miraculously they couldn't understand a word this intoxicated Englishman with a smattering of German, had to say. I kicked into French, which, bizarrely, they understood and said they'd ask the taxi driver about my hotel's whereabouts when he came. He came, they asked, he pointed across the street from where I'd been standing for the last hour. My blood/alcohol level still wasn't enough to take away the embarassment. I entered the hotel, then proceeded to lay down on the foyer floor and sleep the sleep of the drunken foreigner. While I slept the holiday reps returned and poured the remnants of a cup of mouldy coffee into my mouth - bless 'em. The remainder of the holiday was spent trying to re-ingratiate myself with the reps - some were trickier than others. While no injuries came of this little adventure - it was a rather eventful 24 hour period and one I will never forget. Well those parts which I remember.
Back in college, I tried punting a pumpkin once - that was pretty fvcking stupid. Lately the stupidity happens mainly at Barra Brava tailgates, but I guess I just blend in there...
I've done some similarly absent minded stuff, but never involving pharmaceuticals, foriegn languages/countries, and airplanes... all at the same time. So are you available for planning any holiday tours?
Well...where to begin? Me and my best mate maxed out his dads credit card on his 18th b-day at a stripclub. That was amazing, it was the consequence that sucked. Got thrown out of hostel in Barcelona after return to our room full of American students at 5am with 8 Brondby fans and an airhorn. Texted my soon to be mother-in-law in Portugal and told her how much I wanted to do the horizontal monster mash with her daughter and could she please send her home. and my personal favourite. Got married to my best friend in Amsterdam. It's a he and we still are. Not sure if it's legal though.
After 16 hours of drinking on my best friends 21st birthday we stumbled out of the bar along with a few thousand other Waspy college kids. As we looked for a taxi I noticed that the police were hassling the only black people in site. As we passed the cops I yelled: "Racial profiling is illegal, a**hole!" Before I finished the sentence my head was slammed onto the hood of a cop car and I was on my way to spend the night in jail. I've done much stupider things since, but this is the only one that has taught me a lesson: Don't mess with cops.
Oh hell, I could write a book.... When I was about 26, we left work at lunchtime to get ready for our office party, so by 2pm three of us were drinking a mixture of mezcal, brandy and red bull. 7pm arrive at fantasticly beautiful castle for sit down meal served in medival manner, Toon² will know where I am talking about. After assessing that the company had decided to lay on free unlimited booze, we decided that there was due to be a world shortage of malt whisky the next day and started drinking it by the treble. 8pm sitting at dinner with nothing more than knives, and with serving wenches running round, the songs and hilarity starts. Grabbing the girls arses, throwing knives at each other and such activities. Stealing the northumbrian pipes off the guy employed to play, and one friend starting on a local radio dj for his ginger hair. 9pm and dinner is finished, off to the toilet where I bump into my old man (a director of the same company) who in a gesture of fatherly advice, says "go easy a bit on the booze son, you can hardly stand up" to which I replied in my best slurred tones "fuck you, no-one elses dad is here" much to the shock of several other colleagues who were in the vicinity. the next 30 mnutes were a bit of a blur, as I awoke being bundled into a taxi for the 30 mile ride home (at 9:30, how pissed was I?) 12:30am awake with the strangest feeling of dampness, open my eyes expecting my pregnant girlfriend to explain that she spilt her orange juice or some such thing, only to find I was in a ditch in a field in the pitch black of night. No problem I thought, there must be a logical explanation and started heading for the nearest light in the distance. From here I accertained I was about 4 miles from home, so set of walking. 1:30am the front door opens (long since lost the key) and there stands my heavily pregnant girlfriend who looks horrified. As fast as she opens the door she closes it. I wait and I wait and suddenly it opens again, and the stairs are covered in paper. I look down confused and realised that I am covered from head to foot in mud, it's in my socks, my pants, my hair everywhere!!! 2:00am sitting in the bath giggling whilst my girlfriend bathes me as I am incapable, I get tired and retire to bed. 8:30am wake up with an excruciating pain in my right hand, where upon hospital inspection i discover I had smashed it somehow the night before. ...........Anyway, four weeks off work and a lot of phone calls later, I realise I must have got in taxi with a 50 and asked to go home, when the guy got close and could not wake me he wrenched me from car by a field, dipped my pockets and left me with a broken hand to die. Nice to see the christmas spirit was still alive anyhow, I never lived it down, but as one colleagues said, "it makes a change from you shaggin the secretary", which was quite true.
Hmmm.. When I was in my early 20s, I developed an allergic reaction to acetomenaphin (Tylenol), which was weird because I had taken it most of life to that point with no ill effect. Anyways, I was down at the beach with some friends for July 4th weekend which also just happened to be my 23rd birthday weekend (born July 3rd). We went bar hopping, and ended up at some place where it was "Captain Morgan Spiced Rum Night", complete with some poor schlub dressed up in a pirate outfit handing out fake doubloons. Still not sure exactly what happened, but what I do remember is pulling the guy's fake beard off and challenging him to a swordfight. From there it becomes a bit hazy, but I'm told that "Captain Morgan" ended up with a few stitches; not a scratch on me. So we somehow made it back to the beach house about 3AM, and I was already dreading the hangover that was sure to come. I went to the bathroom and decided to pop a few Tylenol (oops) to head off the inevitable, dragged myself to the living room couch, and passed out. Some time around noon, I opened my eyes and....nothing. I couldn't see a damn thing, just the color yellow. After a few seconds of freaking out, I remembered that I had taken Tylenol the night before, so I figured that maybe it was some sort of reaction. I sat up and stayed still for a while, and sure enough my sight began to slowly return. I've never touched Tylenol (or Captain Morgans Rum) since then.
my yeast is bad in a batch of beer i'm brewing that ********ing blows smells like ass coming out of the air lock
21 birthday in Krakow Poland my friends got me 21 double vodkas ( this was after we´d been drinking all day) I finished them within 30 minutes. I was told that on my way home (not long after i finished those drinks) i had a 15 minute argument- with a horse! woke up the next day in the hotel hall because the cleaning lady had started to mop the floor- only i discovered i was completely naked And once in Rome the toilet was occupied by some girls and i really had to p- is- so i did out of th window of the 5th floor- suddenly somebody start yelling- i look down only to realize that ive pi-ssed some poor italian in the head the biggest injury ive suffered was when one of my friends cut me in my arm (without my consent) after drinking vodka- 9 stitches as a result and my arm in plaster all the way up to my shoulder not counting all the barfights ive got myself involved in- long hair + living in rural denmark= allways have a clenched fist when going out
This year at the Oxegen music festival was at least close, for me. Friday evening, we arrived at the camp. I was fully stocked up with 12l of Red Bull & Vodka, and 48 500ml cans of beer... needless to say, once the tent was pitched, I got to work fast. By midnight I had 3l of rb&v in me, as well as a good 5-6 cans, and I didn't slow down, eventually passing out around 6am. I awoke around 6.50am with a HUGE pain in my stomach, crawled out of my tent and could see nothing but debris around me... it appears I had worked my way through 6l of vodka & red bull (around 30 shots, I reckon) and a good 15 cans... as well as a nasty assortment of other drinks I had 'procurred' from far and distant tents. I couldn't remember it had rained the night before, but I knew it as I literally crawled for about 100 yards to get water and food through mud, sick and other stuff... yummy, before I passed out for another our or so. I awoke again to a mate shouting to another bunch of the lads "I found him!!" It turns out I had fallen asleep in a different tent than my own and (little did I notice at the time) was in women's clothing. I heard a lot of stories about me falling over tent after tent after tent on my way back and being pursued by not only a bunch of pikeys, but security as well (I presume I dived into a tent and did a clothes switch to foil them because... that's my logic when I'm drunk). Not only that, but I had appartently been stealing shoes, swapping what tents they were in, and filling them with mud while I was at it. And just to top this all off, I had dozens of people cheering me on while doing it for a while. How that happened, I will never know. Anyway, that day I went into plenty of the bands and got even more smashed and partaking in dance-offs with anybody I could find (2 left-footed, drunken, stumbling breakdancing) and had tried to steal a portaloo for my own uses - thank God it was empty! I can't remember the rest of that night, except I woke up the next morning with a tent for clothes. Apparently somebody had cut holes in a tent and put me inside it, as a costume that I wore for hours. The next day I woke up and it was VERY hot, one of the hottest I can honestly remember in Ireland. I finished off my drink (a litre of Red Bull & vodka as well as a few cans for breakfast... yummy). I then passed out for a few hours and woke up with a BAD burn on my legs, which I was able to shrug off while I could still find alcohol lying around. Went to a few bands, got so drunk that I was apparently throwing up while crowd-surfing (again, yummy) and got back to the campsite. All I can say is that I am eternally grateful for sobering up a bit here, as the burn had now caused the skin on my shins to swell up and fold over my socks; something I didn't think was possible. I had 20 Euro in my pocket - exactly enough for the last bus out of there and a taxi home. I made the right choice, got on the (almost) empty bus and ran into a sexy friend of mine, who was also plastered and wounded in action. An hour of drunken fun later, we grabbed a taxi and got back to her place (since nobody was home). Had I waited until the morning to get that bus, it would have taken 5-6 hours to get back! I awoke on the next morning (Monday) yelping in pain, with her in the shower. She came running out in a towel, not knowing what was going in... I had the worst sunburn I have ever seen (and the auld fella, a GP, said it was the worst he could remember seeing). 17 days of prescription painkillers, anti-inflammatories, 3-times-a-day moisturising of my shins, and these plasters-cum-pads later, and my sunburn was down to a normal level. Except for the permanent scarring and considerably higher risk of catching sun-cancer off of them in the future. Oh, and I apparently slapped a good (sleeping) mate's (sleeping) girlfriend in the face with my cock while shouting "Who's your daddy!? Daddy said eat your meats to grow up and be big and strong!" over her on one of the nights, too. Not definite if that's true though, and I am definitely not asking.
Heart burn. Man I used to be able to get my drink on with Tequila and the next day the worst would be the head ache. Now I gotta deal with chest burning heart burn. I'm not even thirty. Come to think of it whiskey does the same. Vodka is still good though.