The First Time I.....

IV. Alchohol

(http://sodrunk.org/)

  One time I threw a party and I was so drunk I blacked out pretty early into the night, and woke up stumbling into the bathroom to puke the next morning. I slipped on something soggy. It was a pair of boxers. I found eight more soggy pairs that day. 

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  I was so drunk at a party this weekend that I wrestled a random guy in the snow, found my jacket in the washing machine, talked to a Christmas tree, danced on a beer pong table and fell onto 4 people, and ended up getting a ride home from a guy who's "allergic to alcohol"  

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  The first time I drank was when me and my friends snuck into a club. I tried beer, and fucking hated it(still do), so I went straight for the vodka. When I was making my way back to my buddies, I thought I saw them popping open a champagne bottle and cheering, so I cheered too. Then I saw them standing somewhere else, looking at me with the 'Wtf' face. Later on I got lost in a dazed state for half an hour.  

(http://sodrunk.org/) 

  On my 22nd birthday I got so drunk that I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and ended up sitting on a mini filing cabinet in my kitchen and peed all over the kitchen floor. My mom found me mid-pee and that is the only reason I know this happened.  

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  One time we went clubbing in a town pretty far away from home, so we had to take the party bus... on our way home, my friend was so drunk that she started telling a guy why the lion king was her favorite movie and then she started singing hakuna matata. Then, out of nowhere, she was making out with the guy and she gave him a hand job in the bus that was full of people. She threw up over him afterwards..  

 

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St. Patrick's Day is this weekend, and I think that's as good an excuse as any to talk about my favorite drunken pastime. No, it's not darts, or pool, or even that old classic: Saying Things I'll Soon Regret. My favorite drinking tradition is the annual telling of the Drunk Stories. Nobody spins a vomit-soaked yarn as vigorously as an Irishman, but hell, maybe we can all put our favorites down here and see who can compete.

A good drinking story has to have a few key elements: First, nobody can get seriously harmed in it. Nothing brings a raucous bar tale to a screeching halt like "... and that's why she'll never walk again!" Second, the story has to be at your or a close friend's expense. I know every story needs a hero, but the hero in a good drinking story has to look like kind of an asshole for it to work. You can stick it to your boss in a drunken anecdote, sure, but the good ones aren't about the time you said something devastatingly clever to him -- they're about that time you threw up in his lap and took a swing at his dog. And finally, you need to have a good title that seems bizarre at first, but makes perfect sense by the end.

Here, I'll go first: This is the Tale of the Exploding Chili Flight.

I grew up in a small, rural town called Redmond, Oregon. It was laid out like every other small, rural town in the country: There was a main street for all the shops, a few satellite neighborhoods for all the houses, and a vast open wilderness for all the drunken teenagers. I pity you city kids. I have no idea how you guys got hammered. The lack of space seems like a huge logistical hurdle to me. Because, as small town kids, we could always just crash at Mother Nature's pad.

Parents, in case you're confused about this -- and I really don't think you are; I think you understand the game perfectly and go along with it because it gives you a night to bone unimpeded by whiny adolescents -- but on the off chance that you're naive enough to take things at face value, your teenagers do not own a full set of camping gear because they love the great outdoors. Camping, to a teenager, is just code for "getting drunk in the dirt."