The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Sports & Leisure => Topic started by: Va on September 22, 2004, 02:13:21 pm
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In support of V-Adore's first forays into the wonderful world of drunkeness, I propose we share our childhood drinking stories.
The first time I ever got drunk was at my friend Michelle's house when I was 17. I was depressed because I had just broken up with my boyfriend because he was fuck*ng his ex-girlfriend. Michelle just happened to have a bottle of vodka hidden in her stereo cabinet. We played a drinking game called "Battleship". In this game, you float a small glass in a large bowl of water and take turns adding water to the glass, and the person who adds the bit of water that makes the glass submerge--sinks the "battleship"--has to drink. So we played "Battleship" and drank room temperature vodka mixed with Mountain Dew, which was foul.
At some point we went into her living room to watch TV. I guess I passed out, because the next thing I remember was waking up on Michelle's living room floor with her dad nudging me with his foot, saying "What are you doing, girl?"
I managed to drag myself back to Michelle's room--unfortunately, it was spinning. Long story short, I did make it to the toilet. Did you know that brocolli turns black in your stomach?
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I was 14. My older brother took me and a friend to the all-night drive-in movies, which was a haven for underage drinking. We had Hawaiian Punch and pure grain. I remember sitting on the hood of the car, laughing my ass off, throwing pretzles at my brother as he made out with some girl. Incredibly, I did not puke the next day, but I probably would have felt better if I had.
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I was 17. A friend and I went to visit his sister at Bowling Green State University for Sibs Weekend. They made us some delicious Amaretto sours, we played some game called Suck Me, Blow Me where you have to pass a playing card around a circle using only your mouth, and I remember laughing stupidly at anything even tangentally funny.
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1982: I was 15, at a wedding in Manhattan. I was running around the reception with a cousin of mine from Florida who was the same age. We noticed the open bar. We noticed our parents were somewhere else. We noticed that the bar had many bottles of Jack Daniels, which was what David Lee Roth would no doubt have been drinking if he were there ( an important point to us ).
I asked for a Jack Daniels and ginger ale. The bartender filled a largish wine glass halfway up with JD and then filled the rest with ginger ale and ice.
We each had eight of them.
Everything got really swirly. I remember my father taking the two of us out for a walk in the bracing February night air in the hopes of sobering us up, but since we both kept falling down, he kept it short. They shoveled me into the back of our station wagon and we went back home to New Jersey, me rolling around and cackling maniacally the whole way.
Oddly enough, not only did I not vomit, but I seem to remember going to school the next day...though I may be getting other teenage drinking memories mixed in here.
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Okay, I'll post the first dork story here - I first got drunk when I was 23 at a friend's party. It was a wine drunk, which made me all warm and happy and lovey and I drank so much I could barely stagger home. A couple of people who were going my way (I lived about four blocks from the party so I walked) walked me home to make sure that I was okay. I crawled up the stairs and sent unfortunate e-mail to people before I went to sleep.
The next morning when I woke up I was still a little drunk.
But no hangover (I have NEVER had a hangover still) and the next day I went with my gf to Atlantic City to celebrate her friend's 21st birthday, where I drank a lot but didn't get drunk enough to lose much money.
I didn't drink at all until I was about 23 and towards the end of my college years (them womens drove me to drinkin'). I was "straight edge" before that and in a punk rock band with other folks who didn't drink. We thought that drunk people were idiots (they are - try not drinkng with your drinking buddies and notice how obnoxious you find them when you are not also drinking) but it's not as bad as noticing people who are high while you are sober. I think I never really got into smoking pot because I didn't want to be one of those loser idiots that I saw getting high and sounding really stupid.
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How can you be a dork if you were in a punk rock band?
I've never been drunk. This past summer I actually had two entire frozen margaritas at the same sitting for the first time in my life. I thought I should finally check out whether drinking to deal with my troubles would work. I figured that not being afraid of the fuck*ng police right now would be a good state to attain, because you'd also not be afraid of the frightening abyss that was your future, etc.
But mostly it just made me lightheaded. What is the good of a drug that makes you dizzy? I'm obviously missing something.
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I've also never been drunk. I smelled pot a few times in college and people around me got contact buzzes but that's about it.
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But mostly it just made me lightheaded. What is the good of a drug that makes you dizzy? I'm obviously missing something.
it's a helluva lot easier than spinning in a circle until you fall down. it does cost more money, though.
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HS Debate team trip. Jug of E and J Gallo, Red. Hotel room. I still remember being drunk the next day and getting home and going to bed. If you think you fooled your parents - you didn't.
It was 5 YEARS before I could even look at red wine again, and I still can't take the idea of the big green jug of poison to this day.
I don't drink much anymore; I get slightly tipsy (Wife calls it "happy beer face") about twice a year.
Not drinking often is very economical in terms of achieving the desired effect when you want to.
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I think I never really got into smoking pot because I didn't want to be one of those loser idiots that I saw getting high and sounding really stupid.
Yeah, same here -- one of my suitemates from freshman year really smoked an excessive amount of the kine, and her behavior under the influence (like leaving herself notes with 'revelations' like "PEPSI IS EVIL, IT'S OUT TO GET YOU, STOP IT" that she'd had while high) convinced me that pot is just a poor idea on some level.
Anyway, I suppose at this point I should tell the story of my first and only serious drink, boring and others-focused as it is.
All of this happened about seven, eight months ago -- the day before Valentine's Day, to be exact, which happened to be the birthday of a friend of mine. "D" was turning 20, and he intended it to be a huge blast, so he bought enough alcohol to drink an army under the table -- a mini-keg or two, about six cases of Mike's, three or four plastic handle-jugs of hard stuff...
Did I mention there were a grand total of about 20 people attending this party, and many of them were Muslim or otherwise teetotal?
D was a moderately-experienced drinker (he did some Ultimate Frisbee, which here is synonymous with "spent three days a week totally blitzed senseless"), and one of his guests was M, a mutual friend and hardcore Ultimate-Frisbee-er who could (and can) hold more liquor than the entire population of Luxembourg combined. Everyone else at the party who chose to drink was a lightweight.
I was only at the party briefly, because by the time I got there it was already a total boozefest. I shotgunned one Mike's, to much applause, and then heard about the mindboggling array of planned drinking games... at which point I took my leave.
Do I even need to mention at this point what a total St. Valentine's Day Massacre my little enclave had the next day?
As I understand it, everyone but M had managed to drink themselves into OHGODMAKEITSTOP oblivion; D's roommate had managede to land his ass in the hospital, and a few people had spent the night in our college health center under observation. By lunch on Tuesday, D was sheepish, M was oblivious ("great party last night, man!"), all the other drinkers were in full-tilt "I'm never drinking again oh god I don't remember anything oh jesus D I'm sorry about the carpet" mode, and all the non-drinkers were glancing around with the true expression of one who has Taken One For the Team.
Somehow I'm not regretful that I missed it.
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I made a serious attempt at getting drunk once in college. I am not fond of the taste of alcohol at all, even in small quantities, but I was with a bunch of friends, they'd rented The Matrix (still something shiny and new on DVD), and there was a lot of Other People's Booze available for free, so over the course of the movie I drank three bottles of hard cider and a bunch of whatever you get when you mix equal parts orange juice and coconut rum, which seemed to me like it ought to get me drunk. I didn't feel any difference, nobody noticed any difference in my behavior or Internet postings that night, and I didn't feel sick or headachey the next morning, so I came to the conclusion (possibly inaccurate) that getting drunk involves far more alcohol taste than I am willing to put up with.
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I'm actually high RIGHT NOW! And my roomates are all totally wasted; they went to a bar tonight and I hung out with an ex-girlfriend. This girl made me go with her to Burger King to meet this dude who sold her pot. The guy was a huge film dweeb, actually, and he and I started talking about Crispin Glover (apparently, he called the number on Crispin Glover's book 2 years ago, to tell him about an awesome theater near him; he left a message with Glover's mother, and got a call from Mr. McFly himself a few days ago). Then, the guy glances at me, just some random dude who was with the girl he was selling to, suddenly says, here, you hold this, and shoved $50 worth of pot in a grocery bag into my hand. I followed his eyes to a pair of hospital security guards walking by; the guy had seen their badges and panick'd.
But this isn't about tonight. The first time I got drunk was with Liz, my manager, at the Ding Dong Lounge, a little punk bar uptown, where I actually had a beer with my brother last night. I got happily sloshed and we went back to her apartment, where she gave me glass upon glass of water, before we went to bed, with me sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed, and her with her head at the top.
That's my story. I like to think that I'm a better drunk than my roomate, who is making a long-distance phone call to a friend talking about how he wants to go back and suprise his ex-girlfriend, who lives in Prague, for chrissakes. Jesus.
EDIT: Holy shit, he called ANOTHER friend. Why won't he just pass out?
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Ah, this is a very endearing thread.
Me, I was smoking pot a few years before I ever thought seriously about drinking... I just thought drunk people were lame, hated being around them. Potheads, on the other hand, have never annoyed me, despite their (our) many foibles. The first time I smoked pot, it was this crappy crappy shake (all my friend could manage to buy; we were 14 or so and in our first year of high school), and we smoked on a bridge in the forest near my friend's house. Of course, with our lack of expertise and the sub-par nature of the weed itself, we mostly just spent the evening wondering whether or not we were stoned. One of my friends thought she got the munchies though.
I'm not sure when the first time I got drunk was... it must have been when I was about 16, since I was in grade 11. I do know for sure that the first time I drank To Excess was Good Friday this year: tons of cheap wine from Quebec ("Cochon Mignon" was the brand name, and it still makes me shudder to see an empty bottle of it in the alleys* here), wandering around in a park with my friends. I did a lot of lying face-down in a patch of gravel throwing up, but my friend's boyfriend was chivalrous enough to carry/drag me back to the car.
Jesus, no wonder I prefer smoking pot.
*to give you an idea of the quality of said wine. Red wine was the first drink I ruined for myself by drinking inordinate amounts of it; the second was straight gin. Not that that was ever a good idea in the first place.
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My first experience drunk coinicided with my first experience stoned. I was 18, just out of high school and working as a dishwasher at a local restaurant. One of the cooks had a barbeque where there was quality beer to be had and the weed wasn't bad, either. I got pretty drunk/stoned which should have been a problem when I went to work the next morning but oddly enough wasn't. I didn't understand what one of my coworkers meant when he asked me if I had seen the ceiling helicopters the previous night when I went to bed. Seven years and many drunken nights later, I understand now.
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I've got Jough beat in the dork department... I was 25, and I don't even have the excuse of being straight-edge and in a non-drinking punk band. Earlier in adolescence, I was probably afraid of it (or more likely, of being caught, being The Good Sibling in my house). In college, I think I thought I was "better" than it. I have since been proven wrong.
I had had drinks since about 17 or 18, but never more than one or two. On this particular evening, the event was a Halloween party held by one of coworkers. She'd invited her coworkers from the airline, her husband invited his coworkers from NASA. Airplane and space nerds... faaaantastic. And hard-core drinkers, too. My final count was something like two glasses of the mysterious "punch" that I didn't think was going to be too bad but ended up the gateway drug, about seven shots of various flavored rums. two shots of Everclear (urgh), half a beer (part of a contest I lost), and a shot of Mike's. The last came after my buddy and drinking partner Joe and I were intercepted on our way back to the table. All of the liquor was confiscated, to be released when Joe and I got the hell away from the table. Left behind was a bottle of Mike's. I said, "Let's do a shot of that!" Joe replied, "Dude, you don't do shots of Mike's." I countered, "Well, would you rather do a shot of that, or no shot at all?" Joe: "Good point." And hence the only two shots of Mike's Hard Lemonade ever taken in the history of man were taken, and pronounced to be good, when in the absence of something a little stronger... like the Everclear.
Pukage was (and remains in my drinking career) non-existant, which immediately earned me the pride and jealousy of my friends who had been drinking for years. "Two shots of Everclear and you didn't barf?!? You're my hero."
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I said, "Let's do a shot of that!" Joe replied, "Dude, you don't do shots of Mike's." I countered, "Well, would you rather do a shot of that, or no shot at all?" Joe: "Good point." And hence the only two shots of Mike's Hard Lemonade ever taken in the history of man were taken,
bravo!!! I think that would be an excellent opening for a short story.
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I'm suprised at the lack of alcoholism on the achewood board. Whatever, I guess diversity is good...
Um, I'm 15, me and my band go around taking 1 inch out of every kind of liquor in the drummer's parents' cabinet and replacing it w/ water. Whiskey, tequila, vodka, gin, rum, wine? Fuck yeah, put the wine in, dude. Dude, they'll never know. Thay almost never touch this shit. We mix it all together in like a sports bottle, along with something such as lemonade. We haul out down the road to a spot in the woods that we go to to just, you know, be dudes and smoke and talk about dude stuff. We fight over the sports bottle and also over who can actually keep this shit down. The taste is not a good taste. The rest of the night was kinda a blur, but I do remember not even really feeling "drunk" until i decided to go to bed and found that, for some reason, the "walk" function was disabled and I was forced to crawl up the stairs.
Almost 11 years later I am a proud happy-hour fixture.
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Do you think it is rad to have alcoholism, sailor?
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Do you think it is rad to have alcoholism, sailor?
yes, no, maybe.
i come from a long line of dead alkies so i keep my drinking to 1) social or 2) i have this love of just camping out on a bar stool and reading.
i just kinda assumed that most achewood fans were twety-something bar-goers like myself but this is not true.
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I am Slink Jadranko, and I haven't had a drink for six months...
Actually that's complete bullplop (BULLPLOP I TELL YOU!), but I haven't had more than a beer or two at a pub when meeting a friend, or a glass of wine with a meal.
I used to get drunk a fair bit. The first time being when I was 15. I was at an aftershow party for a show I had been in, and three of us went and downed a bottle of somethng sweet and nasty before getting some beers.
The whole spinning while trying to sleep thing sucked.
I've also gone through the drinking myself unconscious phase, as well as the vague phase of alcoholism that was just me needing to excape sobriety desperately and not having weed. That was very ill-advised... By myself...
I stopped... DUE TO PUNISHMENT. Honest!
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Well, I don't know how much about this I've posted here, but earlier this year I stopped drinking BECAUSE OF A PROBLEM.
I guess the main problem is that my tolerance is REALLY high (i.e. I could drink Marion from Raiders of the Lost Ark under the table) and I'd just end up with alcohol poisoning every time I drank enough to get drunk. Sweet. There's nothing like uncontrollable shakes for which the only cure is MORE ALCOHOL.
I took a week off from work (i.e. the internet) while I detoxed.
Since then I've had a couple of beers (one at a time on separate occasions) and have been okay with it (sort of) but I still get those lusty pangs for a decent bottle of scotch.
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I don't drink anymore for obvious reasons, but also because I just don't enjoy it like I used to. When I was younger, before my metabolism slowed down, I could pound the booze all night and be fine the next morning. I realized that my hard-drinking days were over the morning I had to call in sick for work on a Thursday because I was still too drunk to drive. (Actually, I was too drunk to find my keys and put on #####.)
I was fifteen the first time I got truly drunk. It was the night before Thanksgiving, and I was spending the night with my cousin, who was 24. She took me out bar-hopping, and while I didn't look quite old enough to pass for 21, most of the waitstaff/guys hitting on me assumed I was 18 and poured for me anyway. I was a full-blown smoker at that point anyway, and I think I must have gone through two packs of cigarettes and a dozen mixed drinks.
Thanksgiving dinner was almost unbearable that year, for more than the usual reasons*.
Also, during college, I developed a habit of taking off my clothes every single time I got drunk. It became a running gag among me and my friends. "Hey, JL's just two drinks away from taking off her shirt! Get your camera and fire up the blender!"
*The Usual Reasons being my aunt's notorious seven-layer salad (five layers of whatever she had lying around the house, plus one of lettuce and one of watery sour cream) and my grandmother's green jello mold. I have a very nice family.
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i just kinda assumed that most achewood fans were twety-something bar-goers like myself but this is not true.
Well I've got your back Sailor. About a year and a half ago I went with a friend to a bar near my place where his girlfriend was bartending. It was a dank, nasty old place with a couple of dartboards. I threw a round of darts with my girlfriend and one of the regulars asked me if I wanted to join their league.
A year later I show up somewhat regularly to their weekly dart tournaments, and even fill in bartending every once in a while when somebody wants a night off. The money is not good, but at least you drink for free and go home with a bit more money than you had when you went out for the night.
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i just kinda assumed that most achewood fans were twety-something bar-goers like myself but this is not true.
We're here. We're just quiet is all.
I work in radio. We do a good deal of promotions that involve bars and booze. It is a professional advantage to be able to withstand above-average quantities of drink. It also reinforces the importance of enjoying the process of getting drunk, so I'm not one of those dudes who'll chug a case in 20 minutes and then spend the rest of the night being drawn on with magic markers.
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Nabu! Don't be such a stranger!
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I used to be the type of guy who drank 4 beers, felt really good, decided to triple that good feeling, drank 8 more beers as rapidly as possible, attempted to make deals with any Deity listening, threw up, slept 3 - 4 hours, and swore off drinking.
Now I'm the type of guy who drinks 3 beers, feels pretty good, and waits.
My story would have been some variation on the first deal.