What's Your Drunkest Night?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Taking a cue from the favorite beer thread, what was everyone’s drunkest nights?

For me, I have about three.

  1. Drinking vodka and poorly mixed drinks. Ended up vomiting chili & fritos all over a friend’s couch by 9:30. Tried to turn on the light to look at it and blew every fuse in the house. Passed out in my own vomit (by now just alcohol and water) on a bed at about 11. Fine the next day.

  2. First time drinking after last incident, about three months later. We were down at the lake during the summer to meet the guys from the fraternity I was to later join. They had a bunch of hard liquor and a few kegs. Someone kept daring me to chug, so I ended up chugging about 10 16 oz. glasses of Bud Light, after drinking about 5 or 10 normally. My fastest chug was 4 seconds. I ended up vomiting into the lake a few times, and later passed out on the couch inside with a bucket under my face. Got woken up various times to be forced to drink water and eat bread. Felt DAMN good the next day.

  3. St. Patty’s day. Had 2 fifths of Green Apple Puckers (well, drank about 3/4ths of the first one, shared the rest, then went chug-for-chug on the second one, it took us only three chugs each). After that, I started swiping beers from friends, had about 6 of them. Someone brought Capt. Morgan’s into the hizouse, and I chugged about 1/5 of that fifth. Then, I drank a few orange two dogs, to the tune of three or four. Ended up passed out on a bed. I vaguely remember talking to a girl from one of my classes in the hallway (this was in the dorms), and she says I was hitting on her hardcore. I helped people to take a picture of my ass, and while I was out, they took a few pictures of one of my friends, eh, having fun with my limp body. Woke up handcuffed to the bed, with “Cock Hungry” and “Will Work For Dick” written on my face in green marker. Vomited a bright orange, pudding consistency vomit all over the bed, was escorted to the shower. Showered, found my second wind, and stayed up all night with two friends (girls) making up bad poetry with fridge magnets, doing impressions, and stand up comedy. Woke up the next morning feeling like a fucking champ.

The strongest drink I’ve ever drank was 8 oz. Everclear, cut with about 4 oz. Seven Up. My normal drink (non beer) is Kool-Aid and Everclear, nicknamed Jungle Juice. Can’t even taste the alcohol, and five or six will get you within an inch of your life.

Oh, by the way,

Lightweight. I’ve NEVER had a hangover.

–Tim

2

Hmmm… I can’t top that one, but I have a mildly interesting drunk story of my own. This happened back when I was 21 and pretty much thought I was God’s gift to men. It all started out in my local hometown bar called Charlie’s. I don’t even remember who I was officially there with - everybody just hung out there, so I had a lot of friends coming in and out. My brother, who was teaching art at the local university at the time, had a guest artist up from Detroit. This guy kept hitting on me, and I found out later was telling my brother and his wife “I want to pork your sister” all night.

He was buying me drinks, and just to be a little shit I ordered a double shot of Crown Royal on the rocks (I figured what the hell? I’d order the most expensive drink I could think of.) He scoffed at me, and came back with Glenfiddich. I drank up, ordered another. At about that point, my sorta boyfriend and some friends showed up, and I have a vague memory of saying “Hey, Tony, have a drink of this - it’s really good Scotch. Or at least, the guy who’s buying it for me tells me it’s really good Scotch. I can’t taste it.”

Tony, being a nice guy, later took my car keys away from me and drove me to his house after the bar closed. At this point, things start to get dim. Tony tells me that when I got to his house, I refused to sleep in his bed with him because I told him I stunk ( I think I threw up, but I can’t remember. ) So he put me in a spare bedroom that had a box spring and a mattress on the floor. At some point in the night, I remember waking up and deciding that the mattress had to be removed from the box spring, so I got up and pulled it off. I have these weird memories of lugging a mattress around the house.

And that’s about it. It’s the one and only time I’ve actually blacked out while drinking. I know I was at the bar for at least a couple hours that I just don’t remember. Next day I was feeling pretty miserable, if I recall correctly.

3

I once got so drunk I forgot I had hands. Don’t ask.

4

South Padre Island.

Thousands converged on this little isle to party. The drinking commenced at 9 am, on the beach. Beer, beer and more beer. Sun, surf, heat, beer. It got too hot around 1 PM, so we retired to an air conditioned bar where we ordered pitchers and played drinking games until 6 PM or so. We headed to one of the larger, open air clubs and continued the punding of brews. Around 9 PM we heard that Night Ranger was playing down the street. They played one of my favorite songs, “Sister Christian”.

I was lost, already, in an alcoholic haze, but more beer and mixed drinks followed. A gorgeous girl was talking to me, equally as inebriated. At this point, things start becoming hazy. Gorgeous woman gives me her hotel name and room number and leaves. I, having no transportation, decide to hitchhike in the middle of the road. Luckily, a ranger picked me up and, very politely, dumped me in the drunk tank. Unfortunately, by that time, I had sobered up enough to realize how cold it was in that air conditioned cell with just shorts and a tank top left on (I lost my shoes!). I spent the night listening to some jerk telling me how his GF was gonna kill him. $100 later, I was in the back of a car, thinking my liver was toast riding back to San Antonio, wishing I was dead.

Never again… Well, until next time. :wink:

5

South Padre Island.

Thousands converged on this little isle to party. The drinking commenced at 9 am, on the beach. Beer, beer and more beer. Sun, surf, heat, beer. It got too hot around 1 PM, so we retired to an air conditioned bar where we ordered pitchers and played drinking games until 6 PM or so. We headed to one of the larger, open air clubs and continued the punding of brews. Around 9 PM we heard that Night Ranger was playing down the street. They played one of my favorite songs, “Sister Christian”.

I was lost, already, in an alcoholic haze, but more beer and mixed drinks followed. A gorgeous girl was talking to me, equally as inebriated. At this point, things start becoming hazy. Gorgeous woman gives me her hotel name and room number and leaves. I, having no transportation, decide to hitchhike in the middle of the road. Luckily, a ranger picked me up and, very politely, dumped me in the drunk tank. Unfortunately, by that time, I had sobered up enough to realize how cold it was in that air conditioned cell with just shorts and a tank top left on (I lost my shoes!). I spent the night listening to some jerk telling me how his GF was gonna kill him. $100 later, I was in the back of a car, thinking my liver was toast riding back to San Antonio, wishing I was dead.

Never again… Well, until next time. :wink:

6

Now thats pretty damn funny.

Anyways, I could tell some stories that’ll bleach your hair, but I have a reputation to protect here.

7

I’ve had so many drunk nights it’s hard to pinpoint just one. So, I’ll tell one now and maybe a couple more later.

The first time I got really tore up I was 16 years old. I went to a party with a bunch of my friends (I ran with an older crowd so these kids were 19-24). We were at some chick’s house playing Up the River Down the River and some game called Queens. They had 3-4 kegs and we were drinking out of pitchers. I drank 4 pitchers of beer in about 30 minutes. Then we started doing shot of Jack Daniels. I fell in love with that shit!

My curfew was 12:00 so at 11:30 I got up to leave and had to argue and fight with everyone for a good 15 minutes because they didn’t want me to drive and I wanted to. I won… so I got in my car and started driving. Now I lived on the east side of town but somehow I ended up out north by the lake and the next thing I know I’m back at the party. I remember crawling up the stairs and crawling through the door. I stood up and said, “I can’t see the fuckin road… someone’s gonna have to follow me home.”

The guy that I was flirting with all night offered. I told him to just keep driving after I pulled into my driveway because I was already an hour late and I knew my parents were gonna be waiting up for me. I pulled into the driveway and he followed me (like a dumbass) and as I got out of the car he shouted, “Do you need some help getting in the house or are you ok?” I just walked in the house and gave my parents a sloppy ass drunk grin and a wave and my dad said, “You wanna talk about this now or in the morning?” I said, “My sleech is spurring so we better do it in the morning. Goodnight.”

I don’t remember feeling too bad the next morning and I don’t remember getting in trouble for it either. Pretty fun night except for the driving part.

8

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

9

One saturday night in the dorms i started out playing asshole and then switched to Three Man. After chugging down 6 Ice house i told them not to make me drink anymore, they did, i puked all over the card table. Then we relaxed down had more icehouse, then switched to Ice 101(101 proof schnapps). Things get very gray at this point. I finished 3/4 of the… people were just handing me shots, bastards. There were about 10 people in the room now and i had been sitting quietly in the corner, then i jumped up suddenly, said i was “gonna find me a woman” and stomped off. After awhile they started looking for me on on the girls floors, got some RA’s to help. I was nowhere to be found, until the search party, 5 guys a few girls, found me sprawled naked on the floor in the lounge. I have no idea how I got there, why I was naked or if I ever found me a woman. Luckily no one had a camera handy.

I felt decidedly ungood the next day. Nothing worse then getting on the elevator and people you don’t know just staring and smiling and knowing they saw your bare ass the night before…

10

April 1995, cast party for UK’s freshman production of Neil Simon’s Fools. Having run out of Coke early on, my beverage of choice for most of the evening was rum and Big Red (the bright red cream soda made by the A&W people, I think). As bad as that sounds, I assure you, it was worse.

A game of “I Never” started up around midnight. I don’t remember the end of that game, nor anything else until I woke up in my third-floor dorm room in my top-bunk bed at 10:30 the next morning. (To this day, I don’t know how I got home.) From what I’ve been able to piece together from the stories, sex acts of all stripes (hetero, homo, group) were going on in the middle of the living room floor for much of the night. (Theatre people have the reputation for being a bit more sexually, um, “liberated” than most, and these were no exceptions.) Apparently I was too drunk to get involved, and instead sat in a barcolounger and indifferently watched the whole ordeal, the same way I might have been watching Women’s 9-Ball on ESPN2.

Oh, and I later heard the host complaining about having to clean up after someone who “threw up something red all over the bathroom.” I kept my mouth shut.

Dr. J

11

Ah, what a question for a former wino!

The absolutely drunkest was when I spent a Birthday/
Xmas alone. I washed down a pound of rich chocolates
with a liter of red wine. I am amazed I lived.

I gave up drinking when the stomach wore out. My
beer-brother gave it up when he ended up in the hospital
with kidney and liver failure, and my vodka-sister
when she got into an auto accident while drunk and
damn near lost her arm. I got off lucky!

12

So many stories, so little time.

When I lived in Austin, I ran with an older (35-50+) crowd of male cabbie alcoholics (think about that next time you take a cab home when you’re drunk). This one guy, “Shrink”, (Bill was his real name) would invite everyone over to his house after the bars closed. Sometimes I was already at home in bed and I would get “the call” at 4am. I’d get up and drive to Shrink’s and start drinking. Shrink always had good liquor in his house, as he was married to some rich old socialite and was a child psychiatrist. (I never saw his wife, and to this day, I think he drugged her every night so she’d sleep through his parties. There were plenty of rumors regarding her existance.)

The first time I went over to his house, all he had was Vodka and some outlandishly expensive tequila (I can’t remember what it was called, but it was $70/bottle or so). There was nothing to mix anything with. I hate vodka, so he poured me a tumbler full of that wonderful tequila. It was excellent. I quickly finished the whole glass and he poured me another.

He had an excellent CD collection - several bookcases full of anything and everything. He also had some congas, a beat up guitar, and some other intsruments. This particular night, I drank myself blind. I remember dancing with Shrink and my boyfriend’s brother-in-law. Shrink was hitting on me, as he always did. BF was wearing shorts and cowboy boots and beating on the congas. Shrink was jealous of BF and freely admitted it.

I finally went out on Shrink’s deck with boyfriend and his BIL. I could see shrink dancing by himself through the living room plate glass window. The sun slowly rose as I sipped my 3rd or 4th tumbler full of that tequila. I had downed almost all of the bottle by that point. BF was teasing me about something and I jumped all over him, much to the delight of BIL, who still kids me about that.

At 7:00am I went home with BF and slept until 10:30am and staggered into work at noon, still noticeably drunk. (I don’t remember who drove, or anything about leaving Shrink’s house.) I had a sales job and wasn’t late for work either.

I rarely ever had a hangover, even though I drank almost every night well past the point of intoxication. Beer in large quantities was the only thing that gave me a hangover. That and (shudder) Rumplemintz. Rumplemintz is the devil. It tastes like Christmas and turns my stomach inside out. Blech!

Strangely, I remember watching Who’s Afraid of Virgina Woolfe at the beginning of my drinking career and wondering how in the world they drank that stuff straight. A year later, my good friend and I would consider a girl’s night sitting back and drinking everytime a character in that movie took a drink. Our drink: Maker’s Mark on the rocks. We emptied the whole economy-sized (gallon?) bottle one night with another girl drinking buddy. Straight No Chaser (music seagues to the next post)

13

Last July. Norfolk, Virginia. CanadianSue was down for a visit with a friend of ours in Virginia. I drove up on Friday to join them. She also had another friend, male, who was in the Navy, that was supposed to join us at the hotel later.

So we get to the hotel after picking Sue up at the airport. We hit the hotel bar. Geesh, you would never believe the Long Island Ice Tea that gal made me drink, just to keep up with her. The navy friend joins us with a friend of his. So now we have five.

We leave the bar and head towards the homeplace of the navy guys. Sue gets the flu and commences to worship the porcelin god. I hold her head back and wipe her face with a damp cloth to make her feel better.

She passes out on the bed, while it is now my turn to worship the porcelin god. I was a sick puppy, with no one to comfort me.

Needless to say the next morning we all felt wonderful. That was the last time I’ve had a drink.

14

Damn Americans always getting me in trouble!! Ultress, our having too much to drink was entirely your fault… You were already in the can when you two came leaping across the airport at me :wink:

Umm then there was the time the year before when I went on a girls trip to San Fransisco. We went up to the wine country and lo and behold there was a wine convention being held at our hotel. We spent the evening out by the pool with the people from one of the companies, testing out their product.

Around midnight we were talking about how I could sing. More wine testing. Around 1 we are still sitting there in our swim suits still testing. 1:30 or so I get dared to go into the bar and sing. Never ever dare a drunk Sue to do anything.

With the whole gang in tow, I pranced into the bar, in my suit, climbed onto the piano and belted out a tune.

Note: the timelines may be screwed… I don’t seem to remember totally all the details… most are provided by spectators. The worst part was that Ultress wasnt there to hold my head :wink:

15

That would probably be Fridays.

16

I kind of like that drunken time I had in San Francisco a few years ago. One night my buddy and I were drinking in a more or less empty bar, with a few local barflies and a gorgeous barman. After a night of drinking and goofing off, I decided I was hungry, so I paid my tab and told my friend, “See you later, I’m hungry.” And promptly disappeared. Amazingly enough, I was able to find a place to eat, order food, eat it and keep it down. Then I went off to another bar for another quick drink. Eventually, I found my way back to the hotel room at 4 am. Now, keep it mind we had to get up at 7 am in the morning to do a wine tour in the morning. I was a little green and the thought of getting on a bus was making me feel queasy. We didn’t talk much for a few hours (it didn’t help that the driver kept cracking the corniest jokes in the history of mankind!) :rolleyes:

The worst thing is that by 10 am, we were already drinking wine. Somehow we felt better after that. :smiley:

I have a few other incidents that I could tell you about but they’re pretty ordinary (like throwing up in a cab… in my hands…UGH!). SF stands out because I was in a different city and I was lucky to escape unharmed.

17

It would be a lot quicker to sift through the sober ones… pass the ice, matron.

Friend of mine - i was best man for this one - got beaten up a couple of times in quick succession. Claims now that what happened after that was a result of a mental blackout.
Anyway, he met a woman on the Sunday, phoned me 8 days later and asked me to do the honours on the Wednesday. He married her after 10 days and neither of them had been in each others company sober until the wedding day.

Two weeks later, he gets beaten up again, this time on the way home from work - by three of her friends. On her instructions.

The following day he phone’s his apartment to speak with her from a pay phone - he was too afraid to go home after being beaten - and see’s his own phone number on a card above the phone. Now he realises she’s a prostitute and is using his apartment for busines while he’s at work.

It’s a long story…apartment was gutted by fire on Christmas morning, he lost his job, she “didn’t have any children” but then an 18 year old marine shows up saying “Hello Dad”, credit cards…it was crazy.

If you don’t believe this, i really wouldn’t be surprised. But it happened. He just lost the plot for a while and when he got it back together his life was in a terrible mess. Cheers !

18

My twenty-first birthday. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? :slight_smile:

The evening of, I went to my boyfriend’s house, and while he was getting ready to go out I did shots of Absolut Citron with his roommate…the roommate wanted me to do the traditional 21 shots, but my boyfriend was going to take me to a fancy restaurant, so I only drank a few. Then we had wine with dinner, then we went to a bar and had liquor drinks, and then…

I don’t know, because I don’t remember any more of what happened until I woke up the following morning. I’ve done my share of drinking before and since then, but that’s the only time I have spent several hours awake and active that I absolutely could not remember.

A close second would be a night when I was 19. I had an acquaintance (later we became friends) who was prone to boasting about his capacity for alcoholic beverages. He also tended to say things like, “Girls can’t hold their liquor.” So of course I had to step to that. :wink: We started with Tom Collins and ended up drinking vodka straight (not even ice! Ugh!) I did, however, outlast him and the rest of our group. He still tells people I can drink him under the table. I doubt I could anymore, since I’ve become somewhat tamer in my post-college years.

19

One night my girl-friend and I were making cordials, and I wound up with a bit of Vodka left, maybe 6-10 shots. I casually polished off the bottle in about 10 seconds, since that’s usually right what I need to drink to get fairly buzzed. What I forgot is that I’d purchased 100+ proof instead of the normal 60 proof… which I realized later.
Anyways, alcohol tends to put me in an interesting state (better than viagra) so we were busy amusing ourselves when everything hit at once. I staggered into the bathroom, but I was way too far gone, and collapsed on the floor. The beauty of it is, I knocked over a bottle of asprin on the way down, so when she came in to investigate the thump, I was laying on the ground naked and sobbing in a puddle of vomit and pills. Lovely image huh?
I would up crying and puking myself into dehydration, all the while ranting about how much of an ass I was and how I hated the world for creating me as a tragic hero and some other self pitying shit. I also ranted about how I regretted being such a loser in high school and how I still wanted to track down this girl I knew in 9th grade who was really nice and pretty but hung out with the wrong crowd and… well, I don’t think that endeared me too much to the girl I was with. I wound up getting dumped in the shower for a while, then thrown in the waterbed, and woke up feeling fine but stupid.

20

Ah, if only my pal Dave was here to help me tell the story. It was 1982, UH Homecoming week. Dave and I stupidly volunteered to do the announcing for a powderpuff flag football game, the women of the Quad vs the women of the Towers. I say “stupidly” because Dave and I combined have the least amount of knowledge of football.

We decided the best way to bolster our remedial knowledge was by drinking heavily during the game. By the end of the first quarter we were getting pretty boisterous; the audience kept turning around and staring at us. By halftime we had to lock the door to the announcers booth, cos people were trying to pull us out. By the third quarter we were incoherent, and by the end we were babbling appolgies over the PA system.

Somehow we got out of the booth without incident, and proceded to lurch over to University Pizza for a bite to eat (and more beer). After that I recall running back onto campus, stopping only to have a quick lie down in the ivybed outside the Health Center (just until the spinning stopped). We got better in a few minutes, then continued our leisurely schelp over to the street dance. We were excited to see our pal Rich working security. He not only let us in for free, but gave us each about 50 drink tickets. My last memory is hanging off the side of a truck, swinging my body to some sort of universal rhythm.

The next day I woke up around 10 a.m. The reason I woke up is because my supervisor was calling me; I was now 2 hours late for work. I tried to mumble to her that I was sick, but she was having none of my excuses, so I took a quick shower and went in. Big mistake. Once my co-workers saw me, it was obvious what I was “sick” with, and they ratted me out to my boss. I got fired on Monday.

It was worth it!

Hey, remind me to start a thread some time so I can tell the story of when I dressed up as a slice of bread.