"Have you ever had potatoes made by beautiful people?"

Or, I should get my brother drunk more often

Last night was the annual work Christmas party. Yes, that magical time of year when pretty much everyone gets hammered and either:

a) proclaims how much they love everyone


b) gets into a fistfight for no reason

Good times. Anyways, my brother’s been kind of torn up about his relationship status and whatnot, so he planned to drink heavily. Which he did. By the end of the night, he was going around hugging everyone (and even picking a few people up).

We eventually get him home, but he manages to escape the house three times while I’m trying to get stuff out of the car. The first time I herded him back into the house, he pressed himself against the wall and said “This is a pretty wall. I’d like to do the wall.” :dubious: Right. The second time, he managed to run into the door jamb and ask me “Did you see that wall? Did you see what it did to me?”
The third time he actually punched me in the head after asking me if I believed in Jesus.

Other highlights of the night:

-He took a flashlight and held it up to his face while telling us all that he was Jesus. And I quote “I give you all the blessing of our Lord and Savior Jesus, the Lamb of God”.
-He laid down on the floor and said “Mommy, can I have some potatoes?”. After he got food, he asked me “Have you ever had potatoes made by beautiful people?” Why no, no I haven’t.

I think that’s all, although I’m sure I’ll remember more at 2 in the morning. Have ya’ll ever said anything weird or funny when drunk?

Your post (and your brother) made me laugh so damn hard. I may have to wait a few days for my own good booze-fuelled stories.

My favorite declaration from a drunk friend was “You guys don’t understand. You think I’m drunk. But I’m really drunk!” She then followed this up by deciding that she didn’t want to be caught wandering the hall drunk so she did the scooby doo walk (crouch down but take huge steps, look for villains) back to her room.

Welcome to the boards, Stauderhorse.

I’ll have what he’s having. Sounds like he wasn’t just drunk, he was allllll f***ered up.

Good times, good times indeed.

People say I say dumb things. I think they’re reasonable, of course.

Here are two examples. I’m sure I could find more if I asked friends:
“What? No! My grammar may be… messed, but my vocabulary intact.”
“Why would you go to a bar nicknamed ‘The Scuz’? Why not just go out with a guy nicknamed ‘The Rapist’?”

See? I could be sober!

My friend Dave, when I told him he was drunk - replied, “I am not drunk. Iiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmm PICKLED!” and threw he shoes in the air.

All the time. Along the lines of the OP, I’ve been told that I walked into a light post and told it to fuck off. The police in Central Square apparently don’t find this type of behavior unusual.

More recently, I asked the bartender for “another of whatever it is I’m drinking.” (and it’s not like I order anything other than Pabst there, barring an occasional shot)

And at least once where I don’t know where the sentence started, but it ended along the lines of “… ah, I’m not even speaking English anymore, am I?”

My friends think it’s a fun and scary thrill ride to make me the designated drinker. I remember wanting to give advice to many of the young women at the clubs about the fit of their clothes and the condition of their hair. I do notice these things but really want to give personal advice when I’ve had a margarita or three.
I told some poor girl that all those teddy bears didn’t have to die to make her a tremendous coat of dead teddy bear fur because why was she wearing it in the club? I wanted to tell a girl her ass was eating her skirt but if she wore better panties, that wouldn’t happen. They said she liked it that way so I gave up. I desperately wanted to advise a woman that deep conditioning and a good trim would really help her hair look less like a coyote was burrowed into her head but they took my shoes. Bitches.

I knew a guy, Shaolin, who was bipolar and had a couple of other issues I can’t recall, who would strip naked and then act as if he hadn’t done anything unusual every time he took any recreational drug. No matter what it was. Never saw it myself; we were pretty close friends, but this apparently started after I moved out of state. Apparently the rest of our group of friends just learned to shrug it off as Shaolin just being Shaolin. Other than being naked, he didn’t do anything that weird.

As for me, nothing reminds me of my own drunken dialect as much as ForumBot in this thread:

Thank you for the welcome. And yeah, over the course of 4 hours he had about 15 jello shots and half a bottle of vodka.

Here was where I lost it and started cackling like a madman.

“I don’t matter and it doesn’t care!!!”
-'lizabeth, in a fit of existential desperation

Stauderhorse, you should rent out your brother for entertainment purposes. I bet he really livens up a party. :slight_smile:

I had a few friends in university who were pretty amusing whilst drunk. One of them once went on a rant about the Smurfs in the middle of a house party, eventually resorting to just standing up in the middle of the living room yelling “GARGAMEL! GAAAAAARGAMEL!”

Another got booted from a restaurant before we could even be seated, because he was stealing peanuts from the bar and throwing the shells around at other people in our group. Unfortunately, the alcohol didn’t really improve his aim, so he was hitting other patrons in the restaurant.

Man, those were the days. I’ve lost touch with #1, and #2 is now a full-fledged professor with a wife and baby who hasn’t gotten kicked out of anywhere in years. We’re all too responsible for our good, apparently.

Last night one of my friends was a bit further gone than the rest of us, and he interrupted the general conversation with this:

Friend: Did you ever wonder …

Rest of us: :: leaning forward, waiting for him to finish ::

Friend: … if everything that’s happening …

Us: … yeah?


Us: … No.

I usually just get extremely talky and start engaging people into what I imagine to be incredibly important debates about why they are not POSSIBLY qualified to comment on whether Kubrick’s The Shining was more accurate than the miniseries or not, if they haven’t even read the goddamn book. One time another friend and I nearly came to blows because she could not fathom why I was disgusted by the paedophile in Happiness and not disgusted by what she perceived to be the paedophilic actions of Lester Burnam in American Beauty. At some point, our other friends had to pull us off of one another.

The ‘have you ever had potatoes made by beautiful people’ line reminded of one evening when my best friend and I were boozing it up in this club, and were joined by an older, VERY INEBRIATED gentleman who asked me if I had ever been ‘loved by a solider’. I replied that yes actually, having formerly been engaged to Marine, I had. He reached out to sleazily run his fingers up and down my arm and said, lecherously: “No, I mean, have you ever been looooooved by a soooooldier?”


This is the part that killed me. :smiley:

My sons first drunk was pretty funny. We were trying to get him to sit down so he would not fall down. He kept saying that we should “back away from the Joe”.

He had such a grin on his face when he said it and stuck his chest out like he was Superman.

I was once in a car with a friend of a friend who was so drunk she decided to moon one of the vehicles we passed. Only she forgot to turn around.

The most amusing thing I’d ever heard/seen said by someone who’d had more than a little too much to drink was when one of my shipmates woke up aboard ship, after he’d made plans to spend the night ashore in a hotel room with a couple of other guys.

After the obligatory visit to the head…

“Why am I here.”

“Sorry, can’t answer that. Classified”

“No, you ass. Why am I aboard this stinking, lousy, piece of shit ship, instead in some luxury hotel room with a goddamned bed?”

“Well, after Shore Patrol finally caught you, last night, they didn’t feel you were really a risk, so they let us pour you into your rack.”

“Shore Patrol? Why on Earth was the Shore Patrol chasing me.”

“I really don’t think it was because you told them they were all pig fuckers. You were so shit-faced then no one could take you seriously.”

“I called Shore Patrol all pig fuckers?”

“Yeah. I think that was after you told them that they couldn’t lock you up, because you had friends in high places.”

“Were they trying to lock me up?”

“Well, no. Mostly they were trying to avoid being in front of you, in case you vomited on someone again. Oh, you really ought to apologize to Pokey.”

“I puked on Pokey?”

“Well, it’s not like you were aiming for him. He just got in your way.”

“I puked on Pokey. Shit. And I razzed Shore Patrol.” Pause. “Is that all?”

“Well, up to that point, I don’t think anyone really gave a crap. I mean, it’s nothing that the Chaplain didn’t do back in St. Thomas.”

“Yes or no: Is that all?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this now? You’re still looking a bit green.”

“Look you fucking little pissant, if you don’t want to be cleaning out the forward fan room, again, you’ll answer the fucking question.”

“Well, no. But really, you weren’t in trouble with the command when Shore Patrol started chasing you.”

“I wasn’t in trouble, but they started chasing me?”

“Well, you remember how Fleet Landing was right next to that highway, right?”


“Well, after you told the SPs you had friends in high places, and that they couldn’t lock you up, you ran across the highway. Normally I’d say you were so drunk you forgot that cars here drive on the wrong side of the roads - but you didn’t look at all, so I have to assume you weren’t thinking about cars at all. And you nearly got run over.”


“So, when Shore Patrol started to chase you, they really were just trying to keep you out of trouble.”

“Shore Patrol started to chase me…?”

“Well, they couldn’t follow you at first.”

“Why couldn’t they follow me?”

“They weren’t going to provoke the authorities further by following you into that building.”

“What building? What authorities?”

“Well, those buildings across from Fleet Landing? We were told they were some kind of gov’t office complex. And you blew right by the official guards, jumped the barrier, and ran into the building.”

“I ran into the building?”

“Yeah. And it took about fifteen minutes for Shore Patrol to get permission to go in after you. The normal guards were convinced you were dangerous, so they wanted to call in the SWAT team.”

“They wanted to call the SWAT team?”

“Well, I don’t know that’s what they called it, but they wanted armed police types to take you in, or take you down. I’m not sure which.”

“They wanted to call the SWAT team.”

A long pause, the desire to know what happened fighting the growing horror as he considered the consequences of his evening.

“I’m going back to puke and then go back to my rack. I don’t want to know any more.”

Really, the best part was when the Shore Patrol found him, sitting on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the sides, mumbling something. The general consensus is that he was very lucky that if it were “Superman” the way some of the SPs claimed, they got up there before he decided to try to fly. :wink: (St. Maartens, 1992 IIRC)

Out of curiousity, does anyone else find being buzzed, not drunk, the key to truthfulness? I say things I really shouldn’t after just a couple of drinks. Like “You know, Ted is really cute. But I don’t mean that I find him attractive. He’s cute in the way a puppy or over-grown four-year-old is. Does anyone else notice that?” Then I had to promise Jason and Heather I wouldn’t tell Ted that. I probably wouldn’t have :smiley: