So, it’s been a while. This drunken haze emergence is a process that sometimes takes until after St. Patrick’s Day. So, the 5th was my birthday and I had an extremely lofty goal: to army crawl home due to severe intoxication. So, the night started out easy enough, Rev and The Doctor came to pick me up and I was not at all ready, in fact I was still playing video games. Hey, it was my birthday, I’m allowed some latitude. So, upon my arrival to the bar, the bartendress bought me my birthday shot, jack, my favorite. So, then EVERYONE got in on that gag. Buy shots for Chud, he’ll drink anything! He likes it! Hey Chuddy, he likes it!
Well, I did like it. apparently a little too much. Shots kept coming, and someone dared me to do a rail* of pepper. I think it became elevated to double dog dare status (faaar too quickly for standard dare protocol if you ask me though) and thusly as per man code, I rolled up a bill and snorted that rail like it was coke and the bar was a hooker’s ass. Needless to say it didn’t go so well. I started snotting and itching and more or less had to blow my nose. And by more or less, I mean more. Then less. Then more again. It was funny really, the tissue was full of snot and pepper. Which I seriously don’t recommend using a spice combo in your next meal. Wholly unappetizing in appearance. Someone had the great idea to play beer pong, which I am a champ. HOWEVER, this was not the case this night as I had seriously degraded motor skills due to many beers and many shots. So we didn’t win any games, yippee shit. I did however go all Cloverfield (Godzilla) on the beer pong cups dashing them asunder whilst flailing my arms wildly like some lunatic that flails his arms wildly. Then I am told I did a pelvic thrust to the table to overturn it. I know I got a lot handsy with some of the girls and may have been yelling “it’s my birthday AND Mardi Gras! I wanna see some titties!” while trying to goad girls into flashing with some “bud bowl” beads. Yeah, I’m all class.
So, to recap for the night:
Beer pong table: 0
Chud: eleventy billion
Titties: 0
Post Script (oooh, how pretentious i spelled it out!), I did not in fact "Army crawl" home, no one would let me. Though I have been told that it was debated to throw me in the bed of a truck and laugh as I lolled about as they drove home. lucky for me, the opted for letting me in the passenger seat. Or so I was told.
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10 comments:
Happy birthday, Chud. Sounds like a good one.
You still need to learn the correct way to low crawl. You wanted to high crawl. Low crawl is far more of a pain, slower, and they use it in basic as punishment.
... Rawgh! Beer Pong Table, how I hate you! Rawgh...
Heh.
That sounds like one hell of a birthday. You're a good writer too, for a drunk.
If I were one of them chicks, I would SO have showed you some booby.
kristin, it truly was. next year is vegas. ooh yeah. giggity.
rev, low crawl shmow crawl. i wanna do it the way the did it on G.I. Joe, THAT'S the true way.
scooter, that's about the way it went down.
ken, seriously, i would have paid at that point. you would have been a happy titty shower.
At least no propane tanks were involved in the festivities.
I'm with Zen. You may have been drunk beyond the point where propane shooting would have been safe.
1. Never apologize for videogames. You owe nothing.
2. Kudos on your Life cereal commercial reference.
Zen, that would have made the night that much more. more what? i don't know. but it would have.
Doc, i actually have to agree with you on this one. i was so drunk that the safe handling of firearms would look more like a curious cave man and would end up as a top news story.
So, i wasn't actually apologizing for the video games, more the lack of preparedness on my part. but you're right, i do owe nothing. heh.
Hahahaha. I can just imagine enthusiastic beer ponging. Sounds like a pretty good birthday.
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