My drunken injuries – tales of masochism and barley

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I worked as a water taxi pilot for a while, till the guy who owned the boat went broke.

The next thing I knew I was wandering down a steep road at about 1am with a half case of beer in my hand and high as a kite. I slipped and went sliding half way across a paved street on the toenails of my left foot. I landed on my elbow, putting a cut into it that didn’t heal for over a month. Didn’t break a bottle though.

Over the next week I re-cracked the bones in my foot I’d messed up while skidding, bruised a kidney falling off a friends driveway, and hurt my tailbone jumping off a bridge. Luckily I wasn’t sober for a minute of it.

None of these accidents, nor any of the other ones - from singing “Rule Britannia” at the top of my lungs while walking home from a bar in Northern Quebec to getting stuck at the bottom of a 15 foot hole in a tidal marsh - had anything to do with sobriety. Nor should they have.

So what’s yours?

2

Nothing to say about the OP love, I just wanted to let you know my MSN is down and I’m missing you horribly!
Our conversation was cut short last night and I’ve been lost without you.
I’ve been trying since last night to get back on.
Can you ever forgive me? KISS

Alright, I will comment about the OP.
Are you trying to make me worry even more about you?

3

Just wondering what other people do when they’re into the sauce.

(some cliff diving bloopers would be great)

4

I’ve only got minor injuries when drunk. But when me and my friends were at a party one of my drunken friends outside fell over. He complained how much his arm hurt, so some of the other drunken guys started pushing his arm, etc. When I saw him a couple of days later, his arm was in a cast. Turns out that when he fell over he broke his arm!

5

Lovely little thread, fell right off the boards did ya?

(I have nothing else to do at the moment)

6

I awoke yesterday morning with a cut on my forehead, a bloody nose, and a mysterious rugburn on my right elbow, though nothing any more major than that.

A friend of mine nearly got pushed off of a third-floor balcony at a clandestine party in a supposedly haunted mansion. Eeep.

7

Oh, a bunch of us were drinking heavily once, and resupply runs had been made. I had one of those Bigass Bottles of Heineken that I was trying to open. It was a twist-off cap, only in my drunken state, I couldn’t twist it off. And we didn’t have a bottle opener. Well, my friend pulled out his pocket knife, I decided i would open it myself (Playing with knives is a BAD idea, kids!). So I was jabbing at the cap with the blade, drunk beyond all reason, and cut a DEEP groove into my thumb. Didn’t feel a thing. Poured some beer on it to “disinfect” it (“It’s alcohol, right, man?”) and then got a Band Aid from somewhere. It was a pretty nasty cut, too, took forever to heal.

8

I hate going back to the bar around the corner and asking the bartender if I’m still welcome, and if I left her a tip. Its also quite embaressing asking her who was my new best friend the other night every week.

9

Threw up on the sidewalk, wearing a white dress. Didn’t get a drop on me, or anyone else.

10

Never really injured myself, but have hurt my head a few times.(Explains a lot, I know.)

One time, a friend and I were being goofy and play-dancing. She went to dip me, we lost balance, and fell. I hit my head so hard on the tile floor, it echoed throughout the noisy, crowded bar. One of the bartenders was nice enough to come over to me with an ice pack to help quell the egg that formed on my head.

11

I have never hurt myself, but I have used my fist to pound my own telephone into tiny platic bits.

I also recently punched my neighbor in the arm, because she said she was tough and could take it. She was sorry she said that, but I forgot about the entire incedent for week when she apparently told my wife she still had a bruise.

12

THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK:

Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK:

Specificity
British Constitution
Passive-aggressive disorder
Loquacious Transubstantiate

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK:

Thanks, but I don’t want to have sex
Nope, no more booze for me
Sorry, but you’re not really my type
Good evening officer, isn’t it lovely out tonight
Oh, I just couldn’t. No one wants to hear me sing

13

I slid down the stairs at a New Year’s party, on my butt. By accident, as I stumbled at the top step. It didn’t hurt until about four hours later as my ride dropped me off - I had trouble getting out of the (low) car. Turns out I had broken my tailbone. Yeesh.

14

I was at a New Years party for 2000 and had gotten embarassingly drunk and on my way out absconded with a copious quantity of booze, taking advantage of the fact that the host was too drunk to notice or care what I made off with. I staggered out of there with half a case Spaten Octoberfest in a flimsy, half torn carboard container and with the pockets of my trench coat stuff with half empty bottles of vodka, rum, schnapps and whisky. When my friend dropped me off at my apartment I had some difficulty negotiating the stairs and the front door with the end result being that I fumbled so much with my keys trying to get in that the box with the beer fell apart and two of the bottles broke just inside the front entrance. I collected the surviving bottles and somehow made it up the stairs into my apartment and before I passed out realized that I left a huge pile of broken glass by the front door and went back down to clean it up. When I woke up the next morning I had several band-aids on each hand from all the places I cut myself on broken glass. Ouch.

At another party (that summer actually) I was holding a bottle of beer and decided to slide down the stair rail. I managed to get all the way to the bottom w/out killing myself but flubbed the landing, my right knee and left elbow broke my fall (didn’t spill the beer) At the time I didn’t feel a thing but discovered the next morning that it was difficult to walk and that my arm hurt. Plus blood stains on my shirt from where my elbow bled. Ick.

That’s really it for physical injuries, the rest are just wounds to my pride. Like the time I mistook my humidifyer for the toliet and puked a god-awful combonation of red wine, M&M’s and pizza into it (it was ever after known as the vomitifier) Once while travelling I forgot to get my drivers license back from a bouncer and spent two hours retracing my steps the next day before I found the right bar. I managed to loose in my parking lot after a halloween party a couple years ago, only to have a neighbor return it the following day, after I’d just about gone insane looking for it, but not before going to the DMV for a new one.

15

Back when I was in undergrad in VT, we lived right next to a great sledding hill. Now that I think about it, two sledding hills.

The first hill:
This one was on a private golf course. To get to it, you had to climb an 8 foot fence and wander through the woods a bit. Well, we had been drinking, and we also had a canoe. So, we somehow got the canoe to the top of the slope, gathered 20 or so of our closest friends, and shot down the hill. PSA: Canoes go very fast on snow. We did it a few times, each time crashing into the trees at the bottom of the slope. The canoe, sadly, didn’t survive the last trip. We all had various cuts and bruises, but nothing too bad. Oh, and we were drinking the whole time. When we decided to leave for the night (translation: the cops came), I realized I was much too drunk to climb over the 8 foot fence. Well, I tried anyway. I remember getting to the top, and then waking up in a snow bank with a bloody nose and a black eye. Good times.

Hill #2:
We were, again, drunk and sledding. This hill had a parking structure built into the side of it, about half way down. When there was enough snow, you could actually sled down the top of the hill, shoot up a snow bank that formed on the side of the structure, and end up on the top level. This was a great thing to attempt after doing shots and playing asshole (a drinking game played with cards) all night. Well, I had made it to the top of the structure, and I wandered out to the far edge, where the drop off was about 15 feet. There was a low section of the wall here, so the snowplows could just push the snow right off the parking lot. Looking down, at night with only the moon for light, those big piles of snow looked like the softest things ever. So, I decided to jump off the structure. Head first. Well, the big, fluffy piles of snow were actually large mounds of ice. I landed head first (of course), knocked myself out (my 3rd concussion), and cut a huge gash across the bridge of my nose. Still have the scar.

I could go on, but I really should be drinking. I mean working.

16

When I was drinking, I used to wake up (well, regain consciousness) with strange bruises all over my body. I was convinced I had some kind of blood disorder. In reality, I would bump into things - hard - while loaded.

Let’s see, I also cracked a rib, which got me five days off work. I used those five days to go on a major bender, such that I was so incredibly ill the day I went back that I barely made it through the day.

Sliced a finger open cutting a block of Parmesan cheese… while blitzed. Had to get it Krazy-Glued together at the hospital.

I’d fall down a lot, usually down stairs. Example: last October, at PoutineDope, I showed up at the main event - the poutine tasting - with a huge gash on my forehead. I had gotten loaded that morning (!) before going out to meet everyone. I fell down the stairs in the metro and hit my head on the concrete stairs. I was too pissed to really feel any pain. Probably on lots of tranquilizers too, so I can safely bet I was comfortably (?) numb.

Interesting that the “blood disorder” that caused the bruises mysteriously disappeared as soon as I stopped getting blotto every single night (and day)…

Glad that insanity is over. :dubious:

17

Ugh…I’ve managed to bang myself up quite a bit while gettin’ schnockered. A few mentionables:

(1) Dislocated my right knee playing disc-golf.

(2) The above injury weakned the surrounding cartiledge such that popping my knee out of socket became a regular occurrence, especially when I was too hammered to watch my step. I eventually had surgery for this, but it was a number of years later.

(3) I have a nice scar on the back of my head from drunken tire-swing shennanigans.

(4) Dislocated my left shoulder and cracked the collar-bone after taking a header in New Orleans. Walked 6 blocks with my arm out of socket, got to the bar, had Lonnie the Bartender Who Is Also A Licensed Chiropracter (don’t ask me why, but he was) to pop it back in. Applied some spray-anesthetic, continued the party.

(5) 6 months later, re-injured the same shoulder when I took a header over the handlebars of my bike. Riding a bicycle drunk at night is not a good idea, I tell ya.

(6) Tore nearly every ligament in my right foot / ankle when, in an effort to escape my (then) wife who was blocking the front door, I jumped off of my 2nd-story balcony and landed badly. The impact literally blew the sole off of my right shoe. When I was sober the next day, it occurred to me that I could simply have gone downstairs and walked out the back door.

(7) Chipped my chin-bone during an altercation with a stubborn bar-table. It was being entirely too smug, standing there all stable on its 4 legs, while I was weaving around on my paltry 2. I decided to give it the what-for; it won.

…to name a few. :slight_smile:

–IDB

18

I was at Corfu, one of the Greek islands, and decided to take a shortcut from the bar to my room. Only, I had no real idea where I was going, it was dark out, I had drank a bunch of oozo and had plates smashed over my head. My night vision was spectacular, although, I’m still unsure as to why the path led dirctly over a cliff. I do know this, if it haden’t been for the thorn bushes at the bottom, it would have been a pretty hard landing. Had I known about the poisonous bugs and snakes, I probably would have rolled out of the thorn bush sooner. As it was, I felt justified lolling and moaning there for a half hour.

19

Back in my wilder days…

I think ( I think!) I was thrown from the driver’s seat of a VW, thru the back window, across the road, under a gaurdrail, down a hill…

NASTY brush burn and my neck has never quite been the same since.