Pajiba

Vodka. More specifically; cheap, plastic containered, lighter fluid-esque vodka. My 20s were not pretty.

I've been known to hear people whisper "Is that Kate or 'Tequila Girl'?" when I pass by and pinch their ass or try to make out with them.

And MOST of the time it is indeed Tequila Girl.

Gin turns me into a bruiser, a screamer and big time crier (and it's an ugly,ugly cry). A long time ago, my boyfriend and I were in my best friend's wedding. After the wedding we went back to the room and SPLIT a bottle of Gin (did I mention this was like a year out of college) and then went to the reception (down the hall). Later we got into a fight over nothing and I sat down and put my head on my knees...except I banged my eye on my knee. We were screaming and fighting and then the cops came to our hotel room. The officer took one look at me and asked me if my bf had punched me because I now had a black eye due to my lack of depth perception!!! We continued to fight after he left and he came back...he tucked us two drunks into bed because he said if we left the room or continued to fight he'd arrest us! We had hot make up sex and then broke up again a few weeks later. And that is the story why I don't tend to drink Gin, because I turn into an episode of Jerry Springer. Seriously, my husband gets me a gin based drink, I get all nervous that I'm going to turn into a screaming banshee.

Okay, I'm usually a pretty controlled drinker (now), but one sip of a Cosmo and it's all over. I can't stop and shots generally follow after 3 or 4 of those delightful pink beverages - results in finding everyone brilliantly hilarious, including myself. Also dancing.

I know this is close to blasphemy in these parts, but thejodester does not do gin. Gin makes people in my family angry, mean drunks. We stay away.

If you want fiery & mischievous (as opposed to my usual mellow and mildly amused), feed me whiskey. Whiskey is always a fantastic idea, until the hangover kicks in.

I can drink tequila all night long.

I best dudes twice my size in a contest of whiskey shots - and I don't make a "whiskey face," either.

But you put more than 2 vodka drinks in front of me and I go from zero to table dance in 1.5 minutes. The last time I woke up from a vodka-induced blackout I was standing up, in a room I didn't recognize, convinced I'd gone blind (until I pawed my way in the dark at 4 AM to the bathroom to discovered I had simply taken out my contacts). The next morning I was told my evening had involved a bonfire, a table dance, and a very public makeout session with a female friend. And there were pictures.

There goes my presidential run... It's a really good thing my hubs is a good sport.

strange as it may sound, large quantities of guinness and jameson turn me into a blind, raging alcoholic mess. smaller quantities lead to tipsiness, but after a few shots of jame-o and a more than a few pints of guinness...all i'll say is, apparently i can't fake a very good irish accent. despite the alcohol-induced slurring.

Prairie Fires. I'm already evil incarnate, but Prairie Fires make me lose the small amount of inhibition I possess. I will say or do whatever pops into my fool head.

One word: Jaeger.

It's not a particular type of alcohol for me, it's a drink: the Manhattan. Which is unfortunate because I love a nice Manhattan. Too many though and I become alternately resentful and maudlin. However, if I remember the following pearl of wisdom(referring originally to, I believe, the martini), I'm OK.

"Manhattans are like breasts: one's not enough and three is too many."

Jega Bombs.

Not now bro, I'm in the fukin' zone.

One word: Jaeger.

Ah, Jaegermeister. It's a good drink. It's always treated me kindly. I have done many shots of Jaeger and each was smoother than the next.

If I had to turn on one drink it'd be whiskey, but only because I drink too much of it and puke. Other than that, nothing really makes me get out of control. I tend to just sort... of... slow... down... when... I... drink.

Even when I've been pretty much as drunk as one can get, I never really get crazy or surly or angry. I'm always somewhat aware of where I am and what I am doing. I am not the most thrilling drunk as it were.

110 Proof Peppermint Schnapps. One new years in high school I made the huge mistake of drinking this candylicious beverage. Needless to say, I passed out by 10PM, after beginning drinking at like 8:30, and slept through a lap dance, naked hot tub adventure, and copious puking from my partner in crime. I know that these things happened because of the pictures of the girls on top of me, etc. Can you imagine how much that sucks? The knowledge, that you, as a 16 year old boy missed an opportunity for naked hot tub and lap dances, all the while looking extremely unable to handly your booze.

Evil!

Jen, ditto on the Goldschlager. That shit messsed me up. I woke up the next morning, in a strange bed, naked from the waist down and lying in my own urine. Lovely. God, I miss college...

it wasn't one drink, so much as it was a perfect storm of drinks, that did me in and turned me into a quivering, crying, masturbating heap in the middle of the party floor.

The evening started off with "Coffee with Shit In It". For the uninitiated, "Coffee with Shit In It" containted Coffee (duh), Kaluha (of course), Bailies (yum), Whiksey, and Rum.

Now, to the untrained eye this might just seem like one of any other blackout drinks, like an Adios Motherfucker (all I know about those is that they're blue).

But Coffee With Shit In It has CAFFEENE. So in addition to making you rip-roaingly drunk, it makes you hyper. So you do horrible things that would get you excommunicated from your church, but you Don't Black Out. You keep conscious all night long.

All night, that was, until someone broke out the Absenthe. That's when the night became crystaline. As in: I could see the cracks in matter. In time. I could see how the world was put together, and I needed to make out with the world.

Or at least everyone at the party. Kisses when everywhere. Male, female, faces, legs, feet, it didn't matter. I scampered after a dog. I communed with a coffee table. I WAS CONSCIOUS FOR ALL OF THIS.

And then I began to cry. And this wasn't just your "I love you man" cry. No, this had the deep dark FEAR as it's cause.

Did I forget to mention that the week beforehand was 9/11? Yeah, that 9/11.

So, in a caffinated drunken heap in the middle of the floor, I screamed out and grabbed for saftey:

"I DON"T WANT ANY OF MY FRIENDS TO DIE!"

after that, I thankfully, blacked out.

Beer. Good, hoppy beer.
I do not drink it often. I usually drink vodka or gin. But give me four or five bottles of a good IPA, and I am dancing, shouting, hunting people down and asking them embarrassing questions, shouting "Wooooo!", etc.

Watermelon Bohicas. Never heard of them? I named 'em. My friend claims to have invented the Watermelon Martini, but after inadvertently drinking five of them, and then trying to take a photo of my friend with the wrong end of the camera, and frying my retina with the flash, I promptly renamed them Bohicas, after the acronym BOHICA (Bend Over Here It Comes Again). I hate watermelon.

I can usually handle my alcohol in varying degrees of "okay". Sure, I've had some murderous hangovers and there was that one time I fell off my barstool (but really, shouldn't the bar be just as much to blame for buying stools that don't have any backs or armrests to speak of? I mean, they should really understand their clientele.)

So I've had nights that start out with wine and devolve into a veritable flood of tequila and moonshine and while I wasn't a shining example of intelligence and class, I was pretty okay.

However, I've learned that if even a single shot of Jaeger is included in the mix, things go horribly awry.

And by awry, I mean encouraging friends to have sex in my bed because at the time I was going through a dry spell and apparently said "at least somebody should have sex in it!" Oh, and there's also the times that Jaeger has turned me into The Queen of the Angry Voicemail. Oops.

Whiskey for me. Doesn't matter what name or brand it is, whiskey makes me evil every time. No, scratch that - that's not quite true. See, what I usually do through the course of my everyday life is to take all of the minor stresses, trivial quibbles, petty irritations and everyday niggles, and lock them away deep down in some dark chamber within myself, there to bubble and seethe and mingle and gestate, thus creating a sort of reservoir of uber-bile. In my everyday, waking, good-twin sober life, I'm generally a pretty patient, easy-going guy - because all of that broiling rage has been banished to that black-lit chasm buried in my gut.

Enter whiskey.

Whiskey sloshes down my oesophagus like the Biblical cleansing flood, washing down my digestive system and causing untold wailing and gnashing of teeth of all my obedient Dilldrones (the super-deformed little people that ensure the smooth running of my biological and mental processes). Furthermore, it smashes the motherfucking lid right off that aforementioned chasm, so that even the slightest provocation can unleash a torrent of rage so mighty that the incidents are spoken of at night by parents to scare their children into going quietly to bed...

"Sweet dreams, Clarence - and remember, don't disturb Mommy and Daddy in the middle of the night, or we'll feed Dill some Jack Daniels'..."

The last time I drank whiskey in any serious capacity, I ended up in an argument with a room-mate. I won the argument with the following combination of well-considered debate tactics:

- Shouting at him until my face was red and his was spittle-flecked to the point where he looked like he'd just walked in from the rain.

- Snatching a half-drunk can of beer from his hand and dashing it at his head.

- Grabbing him around the throat, shoving him against the wall and lifting him bodily off the floor with one hand.

- Ripping his bedroom door off of its hinges and throwing it at him.

Suffice it to say, Dill doesn't drink whiskey too much anymore.

- Ripping his bedroom door off of its hinges and throwing it at him.

It says a lot about me that I find this kind of hot.

-Slept with a guy my roommate and I were interviewing to share our apartment two hours after I met him (he didn't take the apartment)

****

That made my laugh so loud the people in the cubicles next me looked up.

My mortal enemy is Red Bull and Vodka- after a night of drinking that I climed into a taxi and when my friend stuck his head inside to get in I punched him in the face and made the driver speed off leaving him in the middle of Chicago alone.

Withnail I think I wanna kiss yoooouuu...

Nothing really makes me Hyde out, and I don't (can't really) drink enough to explore it that much anyway. But this topic reminds me of what Dylan Moran calls gin: mascara remover.

I second anyone who names whiskey as their mister hyse trigger. When i seriously drink it and I mean when I get shit faced out of it I turn into a mean bitch which would be awfully appreciated if it also meant using guns or beating crap out of douchebags, but noooo i do actually turn into a major fucking drama queen.
a friend posted a video on myspace that proves what I just said but she is, as I said, a friend, and she had the decency of tacking it down when I, so very politely and not at all with baseball bat in my hand, asked her to take it down.

Correction: I meant 10 and a half stone, rather than pounds... damned Stella Artois.

Heeee!!! Hotter Dill, that makes you seem all Hulk-like. And I knew you meant stone, but that didn't stop me from picturing you as a pissed off whiskey guzzling door tossing infant. :p

For my prom, my older brother bought me this huge bottle of grand Cosmo to take with me in the town car. It was just me and my fag hag in their, so she had vodka and I finished my bottle of 15% cosmo in the car. It went down easy, so I figured it couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

We spent the night stumbling around drunk, bumping into teachers (Who seemed to like me better drunk), and generally acting like drunken teens. I've been drunk a couple times, but I'm not an angry drunk, wo while alcohol can't bring out the worst in me, Cosmo seems to bring out the best in me.

P.S., David, you made me think of this for some reason. JAEGAR BOMB! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JMOh-cul6M

In my 20's, it was tequila. My friends were quite certain the song "Don't Ask Her on a Straight Tequila Night" was written especially for me, by someone who had the misfortune of sitting next to me on just such a night. After staying away from the evil elixur for my entire 30's, I'v recently discovered that I can now sip it and enjoy it with no ill affect.
Absinthe, however, is the drink that changes me from the easy going, good natured, fun loving lady into some wild, insanely confrontational hag, who either wants to rip your clothes off and ravage you or kick you in the face. More research would be needed to figure out which one happens at what point...but I'm afraid.

Honestly? I can handle most hard liquor like a champ. But give me cheap champagne in a sizeable quantity and I turn into a freaking mess.

Tequila. The End.

Limoncello. It doesn't matter what kind of mood I'm in to start out, if I drink limoncello, I'm a sobbing moody incoherent mess by the end of the night. (This is not the usual effect alcohol has on me.)

Well, if you're going to start off by mentioning New Orleans, the site of mine and the Mr.'s most awful, embarrassing, oh-my-god-what-did-we-do night, then I'll have to go with whatever is in the alcoholic slurpees they sell at every other store front in the French Quarter. *shudder* It's painful just thinking of those three days of debauchery.

But in my real life I'd have to say it's not so much what I've drank, but the inevitable point in the night where I start mixing it with sweet, sweet mary jane. That's when I start telling the world my point of view on everything, smoke cigarettes, eat mystery meat mini-tacos served at strip clubs (no pun intended), and generally want to keep drinking and smoking until dawn. Fortunately since I'm married, and the Mr. is usually with me on these evenings, I at least don't have to worry about who I'm waking up next to. I can't underestimate how much that is for the best.

Amanda47, then maybe we'd better get a cup of "coffee"

For me Whiskey...Last(hopefullly)time i end up with a married guy in a motel room puking and crying at the same time needless to say nothing happen with the guy and i dont even remember how i got there or home for that matter...next day he call me i didn't pick up and everytime i run into him i hide. No whiskey for me!!

Pffft.

It's never the type of alcohol that gets me into trouble, it's the quantity. I'm likely to break a bone or get raucous from too much anything.

Which is why I am now a model of self restraint.

Anyway, I'm off to drink my fucking face off.

- me trying to "help" my roommate up the stairs to her bedroom. I dropped her. Down the stairs. Three times.

This may be my favorite item from this diversion (so far). The syntax of that sentence caused a stifled snort-laugh.

Pricey scotch someone else is paying for, especially if there is a variety available. Last time I had the opportunity to do this ( aparty a frined made in celebration of the birth of his daughter) there were several available older than I am. I'm 29. Felt compelled to try them all. Plus he went into his basement for some of the nice wine which he was walking around with - being the gracious guest I had some of that as well. Went home for lunch and kind of just sat there moving my food around while stairing at my family.

Also, enough beer and Irish and Im sleeping it off in my friend's basement.

sambuca, soco, jaeger, and tequila ... are handmade by the devil himself. and they bring out the demons.

but I'm old now and I mostly stick to wine and beer, with the occasional scotch on the rocks.

Sean, even better was that, in the morning, she asked me if she had fallen at all during the evening's festivities. She couldn't figure out why she was sore all over. I finally 'fessed up to dropping her. A few months later, I 'fessed to dropping her the second and third times.

Stroh rum...actually, stroh rum and a pair of skis...in Austria...there are pictures...just the memory makes me queasy.

Nice, pea, nice.

During my fifth (and final) year of college, I started an afternoon with beer drinking games and continued it into the evening at a "bottle party" (a rarity in college where mixed drinks are served exclusively) I was cut off by friends thrice, and thrice I snuck more drinks. I was on the house's porch, and went to lean back on the railing...which was two feet to my right. I fell down about three feet to the lawn, rolled across the sloped earth for about ten feet, and was brought to a halt by a parked car.

Six months later, I had surgery to repair the fracture in my wrist that I suffered that night. The surgery took place less than 24 hours before I was to be removed from my parents' insurance policy.

It's the reason why eastern Europe is more fucked up than western Europe. It's my cultural heritage as the child of immigrants with hard to spell names.

I call it never again (until the next time) - you call it vodka.

It's great with grapefruit juice, tonic, red-bull even slaps in the face but it's especially prime with more of itself.

Aside from making me black out, lose shit* and call up ex-girlfriends now living in foreign countries vodka makes me stink - terribly.

It's so bad - I can smell it. It oozes out of my pores and suffuses my breath but not before my body has had a chance to miraculously transform it into eaux de homelessness.

It lasts for hours and makes my girlfriend throw shit at me until I go away.

You know that warm, stale graunch that leaks out of bars at 11am when they're hosing down for the afternoon shift? Set the bar there and then start digging - call me when you reach the underground cave with all the dinosaurs and lizard doods.

* I used to think that those wallets on a chain were really fucking stupid.

Mojito

although i'm still drinking it to this day: jim beam.

my college had an annual party that progressed from the north end of campus to the south and my junior year i brought a bottle of jim beam for myself. within two hours it was gone [i'll admit, i had shared some].

and then i woke up in my dorm room.

i had an enormous bruise on my thutt [which i'd allegedly gotten when i fell straight down a flight of stairs, thereby smashing the empty beam bottle] and my right knee; my pants were in the bathroom, my scarf in the kitchen, my jacket and hat in my ex-boyfriend's room a floor below.

if hard liquors were the ku klux klan, jim beam would be the grand wizard.

Damn you, Boyton. The answer to your question would be have to be Everclear pure grain alcohol(190 proof) or, as I like to call it, "The Ritz Bitch". My first time as a junior(I just finished my second time around) I transferred to a new school. One day a fairly privileged classmate decided that she was tired of the restrictions of student housing and rented out an expensive room at a nearby hotel for an all-out party, the Ritz Carlton. Word about the party spread faster than mono and it was, of course, BYOB. My friends and I were severely lacking, you know, cash, so we decided the best idea was to get a mixer and something really strong to get all four of us sufficiently wasted.

Male Friend #1: We have to get all kinds of fucked up. It's the Ritz, BITCH!

What ravishing beauty did we decide on? Well Everclear, of course. It had gotten us through many occasions cheaply and efficiently. The night started decently with music, drinks, and 40+ people packed into a small space. After four games of Asshole and sharing a blunt with a lovely fella who keeps his weed in his turban, I'm sitting silently in a chair giving death ray eyes to anyone crazy enough to look in my general vicinity. Now, here is what I'm told happened next...

As a black girl I'm fairly light skinned. I'd say lighter than Halle Berry but darker than Lionel Richie. I'm told that while sitting in my power chair I turned GREEN. Then I screamed at one of my friends to bring me water, took one sip, and puked all over another friend and the fine decor of the Ritz Carlton. After that I apparently went into the bathroom to finish the job and spent the next two hours alternately hurling the remnants of the city's finest chili half-smoke and drunk dialing people to talk shit about EVERYONE at the party. Yes, they could hear me, because I was screaming into the phone with the door open. When I finally left my fortress of solitude, male friend #2 was doing "the precolater" dance and had to give me his shirt, roomate #1 had a cigarette burn on her chest and was considering smoking something out of an apple, and male friend #1 was jumping on the bed screaming, "I'm in the Ritz BITCH!"

Good news: My friend that gave me his shirt and I have been together for the two and a half years since that night. But, honestly, Everclear and the RITZ can go rape pandas.

"Whiskey for my men, and beer for my horses..."

...

:)

Beer goggles my ass. Tequila makes everyone better. "It makes me feel a little fiery, and there's something about tequila that makes people fight or fuck almost indiscriminately." Hit the nail on the head with that one. Woke up in some strange Frenchman's bed once asking myself, "Where are my panties?" There are other stories, but I'm sure no one is looking to read that much this afternoon. I can't drink the stuff anymore. The mere thought of the smell of that witches nectar makes my mouth water in a bad way.

Does it make me sound like even more of a problem drinker that I really really want a drink right now?

Next week's comment diversion: Dumbest things ever said or weirdest things ever eaten while high on marijuana.

I went to school in New Orleans, so the prospect of drinking in the Quarter was always there, but was usually too expensive. The thing to remember about New Orleans is that alcohol is available 24/7. No blue laws in the city. That is how I ended up being carried to an ATM to get money, so I could be carried into a liquor store to buy another bottle of tequila with the little straw hat. After getting the money, I snapped my ATM card off in the machine, never as far I as could tell got any any change for the 4.99 bottle of fine, fine tequila and I don't remember any of the walk back to the party or my dorm room. When I woke up however, I was hugging a trash can, and that little hat was strapped to my head with a rubber band. So, I'n going with tequila.

At New Year's my dad told me, "The last time I had orzo it made me cry like a little girl," and I said, "You mean you felt so bad you wanted to cry the next day?" and he said, "No. Literally. I was crying like a little bitch."

Just a few weeks ago at Memorial Day I started my day at 1 pm drinking three bottles of Riesling. Then I had drinks with dinner. THEN I went to the local bar's Martini Monday, where martinis are $3 each and I was totally fine until I had 6 of those, and the next morning, I felt like my brains were leaking from my eyeballs. Vodka. UGH.

libraryliz, I've had a similar lecture, and if I remember correctly the booze attaches to the carbonation and is then more rapidly absorbed into the bloodstream.

Booze has always treated me right, but anytime someone decides to mix pills in, I turn into naked dude. Looks like I won't be running for president either.

LTL here or long time lurker but this diversion is right up my puke-stained alley. I've been drinking since 15 and by now I'm pretty well seasoned. Whether I'm alone or out and about I'm very sociable, friendly and silly. The first three years of college were filled with the usual debauchery but nothing compares to this one fateful St. Paddy's Night.
Wild Turkey 101 proof was my longtime friend and felt like taking him to a party. Well I get there and my friend brings along his bottle of Everclear and we decide to show these pussies drinking Coors Light how its done. We go for two shot rounds...shot of everclear chased with wild turkey. After about 3 rounds we both are under impression we are completely fine, maybe a lil bit buzzed. We up the ante and after the 7th round we go outside for a smoke...
What happens next I had to be filled in on the next morning. I fall standing completely still off the stoop and into a puddle and start re-enacting the scene from Robin Hood Men in Tights where Little John starts "drowning" in the stream. My friend tries to drag be back into my dorm but I'm screaming like a banshee now and he is just as bad as I am. He is threatening to slit my throat if I dont follow him. Little physical description he was 6'5" decked out in leather trenchcoat and knee high boots. I'm trying to fight him but I'm only 5'4". I end up back in my room puking into a wastebasket so hard some blood vessels in my eyes burst.
And that is why I can never be friends with Wild Turkey again. Everclear was always a douchebag but damn WT and me had some good times before.

Any Tequila other than Patron: no can do.

I think I have good ideas on Gin. And I get excited about them. Once, I had to get these "good" ideas down so I didn't "forget". I realized the next day at work I had hit "send", not "save". To my boss.

He was forgiving. His reply was simply "enthusiasm is good".

I will never drink Gin again.

Anything if I drink it fast enough. Probably the worst was the Great Everclear Debacle. Everclear screwdrivers. I don't remember much after the first half of the first one, but I was told that I was begging people to tie me up and paint my face blue, and I went through a spell of standing up and falling down, repeat, repeat, repeat. Then I puked an amount dangerously close to my own body weight.

Though, for sheer meanness, vodka. I throw rocks and bite. Allegedly.

I always say: "If I am drinking Vodka, Shits going down"

I stay away from the stuff. Last time I drank a lot of vodka...I ended up going out to a club in a bra with a fishnet shirt over it as what I thought at the time was a legitimate top. And those who know me know that I NEVER #1 - Go to clubs and #2 Wear scandalous clothing.

So as a result, I dont drink Vodka anymore.

All bets are off after Irish car bomb #1 arrives (...its friends soon follow). A typical ICB night used to end wandering the streets of NYC having an epic argument with my boyfriend (about anything from the meaning of life to cheese fries).

I was once double-crossed by otherwise trusty gin on the night before starting my senior year of college. While trying to piece events together the next day, my lyin'-eyed friends tried to get away with telling me "some things are lost in time." Long story short, I mistook another room for my own and hilarity ensued. Lesson for others: always lock your dorm room. Gin and I have since made up.

kenia, that story made me laugh so hard! I'd be mortified!
I've had a few Hyde moments in my life tequila being the biggest no-no since it's forbidden by my husband. In fact it was exactly 1 year ago - last July 4th - that I drank an enitre bottle of patron (on top of some frozen drinks & jager bombs)in a matter of about 2 hours. Got partially naked & mud wrestled a girl I'd never met. Then proceeded to be the most loud & obnoxious person at the party who was asked to quiet down for the sake of the neighbors several times. This particular party had hired midget wrestlers whom I had a burning need to hump - so I did. Then I locked me & the husband in the bathroom & loudly accused him of hitting me. made him drag me out of the party kicking & screaming and then kicked him in the balls and laid in the front yard in the rain refusing to get up.
There's also something called a body bag that consists of jager, 151 and lord knows what else. My friend and I gathered the courage to have them one night after drinking a good amount of beer and she ended up puking in a trash can in front of bar staff so she got kicked out. When I found her she was laying on the ground across the street from the club so I laid down next to her, took off my wig (it was "Alice in Wonderland" themed night & I had a blonde wig on) and curled up and started pukling off the curb. I have a drunken photo of us laying in puke from that glorious moment.
Good times. Now I'm itching for a beer!

It's strange, I can drink Patron shots all night long, but if I have a Cadillac Margarita, all restraint goes out the window. It's like the Grand Marnier has a filter remover. Like Dave Chappelle says in the Samuel Jackson commercial "It gets ya drunk...You'll be fuckin fat bitches in no time"

The last time, I went out with a group of friends on Sunset. I drank 3 or 4 Caddys and started talking to a girl. We were on our way to another club and I laid back and asked my friend "Is she cute at all? Cause I am loaded" He looked sadly at me and said "no, no she isn't...the bitch is big Rubble" Which usually wasn't a problem for me but then he said "and she's not attractive and she's kind of mean". Five minutes later, he sees us in the dark corner of a club making out with her...thankfully he performed proper wingman duties and got me out of there.

I also drank a bottle of Ten High whiskey on a bet once and can't even smell whiskey without getting sick. I also threw up on a cop...but that's another arrest report for another day.

Ummmm...after several arrests, driving into ditches drunk as a pickled skunk, and 6 years of sobriety, I hope that I can finally safely say that my Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum alter ego, will probably NOT be making another soaked appearance in this lifetime. DO.NOT.WANT.

But I really am enjoying reading other people's stories!!

I'm about to embark on a twin vacation (my work is shut down for 2 weeks) starting Saturday and during the 2nd leg of said vacation I'll be in Miami. I will keep all of these stories close to my heart when I inevitably become obnoxious and do something psychotic.

This is one of the funniest diversions in a while. Next time I wake up and the night comes crashing back in technicolor I won't feel quite as guilty.

Oooh, I have two.

The first was a packet of Crystal Light poured directly into a bottle of vodka, which I drank straight from the bottle. That way, you don't have to worry about someone poaching your mix or alcohol, PLUS, it is diet. Mayhem invariably ensued. I met one of my best friends drinking this recipe for disaster, as she held back my hair as I threw up in the linen closet at a house party I crashed.

The second is a mixture of vodka or gin and Dole's Pineapple, Orange and Guava juice. I dubbed it POGDKA, and once the vodka ran out, POGIN. I thought it was hilarious at the time. I threw up about every 15 minutes for a four hour period in the middle of the night, but couldn't find the light switch or the toilet, so threw up in the sink. The next day I had to bail as the date to my new boyfriend's best friend's wedding. All I could stomach was sucking the salt of saltine crackers.

Anyways, I don't drink much anymore.

Bacardi 151 and acid. Once during the night I remember coming to and noticing that I was in a shower vomiting in slow motion.

For sheer property damage - tequila, hands down. My last tequila binge involed wrecked trucks and hitting on my hot co-worker infront of my then-girlfriend in the sleaziest Goth club I could find.

I've been in sleazier, but that one was bad.

Funniest comments ever - thanks gang!

I don't know what my evil drink was, but it was evil. It didn't help that I had several other drinks that night, including an Irish Car Bomb, and somewhere in the vicinity of 10 beers. It was a huge party and I saw some friends lining up some shots at the bar.

I said, "Hey, what are those?"

One friend replies, "You don't want that, it will break you."

Me: (already way drunk) "Yeah, but what is it?"

Him: "You don't want that, it will break you."

Me: "But what is it?!"

Him: "You Don't want that, it will break you."

Another friend: "oh, it's...rgjkhavrkjuhawe... (brain cells lost)"

Me: "Oooh, that sounds good! Pour me one!"

...

That's the last thing I remember from that night. For the next two weeks my eyes were solid red from the burst blood vessels, and I had my worst hangover ever the next day (Which oddly didn't hit until after I had been up for 2 or 3 hours. I felt perfectly fine and chipper when I first woke up.)

oh strtwise,
u just brought back so many delightful memories, wait.. actually you didnt cause when you drink one of those you might as well have McAvoy shoot through your head to a unspecified target.
that fucking drink is more devastating than watching your own grandma die (and that's only if your grandma isn't a bitch you hate)
did u get the smoking one? it only looks cooler, like a poison from and old hammer movie but it does cost at least 4 bucks more, or is that just sunset boulevard?

I used to be able to drink tequila like water. Until that fateful night of Drinking Game Scene It where I was playing with the one kid who wasn't drinking and I got almost every question right. I threw up pretty much everywhere and haven't been able to drink it since. Except for my 21st birthday when I was already blacked out by the time tequila shots happened, but I think I was okay ...

Ever played Gin Bucket? It's exactly what it sounds with a handle of gin and some lemonadey stuff. Like many alcohol related games you can't leave the room until it's finished, but my idiot friends bought the wrong portions of mixer, so it was like drinking straight gin. Ugh. I blacked out within 15 minutes, woke up in a hallway (on the other side of campus) with no pants and no contacts (even though I didn't have my glasses I guess I thought it would be better if I didn't sleep in my contacts, whatever).

One more (I promise). Jungle Juice. Not familiar? Everclear, vodka, peach schnapps, Bacardi 151, apple schnapps, triple sec, gin, Boonesfarm, and then a bunch of juices. Think it's funny to have chugging races with Jungle Juice? It isn't. Especially after three cups and splitting a bottle of Andre with a buddy. Suddenly I was screaming at everyone in sight, convinced that all of my belongings were stolen, smoking like a chimney (which I don't do ever), and putting out all the butts in people's furniture. I woke up at like 4pm the next day in my own pee but in someone else's bed, so I guess it was okay.

All of the above have been my downfall and /or regret at one time or another. The problem wasn't the drink, it was the attitude before the drinking started. I was either happy, friendly and funny or the Hulk during roid rage. The problem started when it would all of a sudden change from one to another without any warning.
Broken bones, PI, waking up with people who scare me and paying to fix the crap i broke helped get over that stuff.

I quit for a while but now everything in moderation, until the beast returns. LOL

Jose Cuervo was my best buddy in college ... until I realized that he's an absolute dick. Now even the smell of tequila turns my stomach, bringing back wonderful memories like:
* Giving a strip show and lap dances in a dorm room ... to songs by Britney Spears and Jennifer Lopez
* Wanting to pee in the bushes like the boys (they got a lot of "but that's not fair!" when they physically dragged me away from the inviting greenery)
* Screaming and crying hysterically at the slightest provocation, which included reminding me of someone who once pissed me off
* Deciding to sleep under a big truck while my future boyfriend tried to reason with me about getting run over in the morning (I did not appreciate his logic)

I was partial to vodka for a while, but now I'm a Jaeger bitch. He hasn't given me a hangover (yet) and I'm the happiest friggin' drunk. When I decided to climb all over barstools and then crashed to the floor, I just kept giggling while telling my rescuer that I was GREAT! (Dude, this is awesome! I can't feel pain!) And when I *had* to go to a park at 2 am (I wander when I'm drunk) and my friend tried to stop me, the worst I did was scurry away while shouting over my shoulder in Spanish that I didn't speak English and couldn't understand him. (In the tequila days, that would've been grounds for WWIII.) ... Of course, maybe I shouldn't have written that drunken "I'm sorry" poem and slipped it under his apartment door. And there was that morning after drinking when I noticed that the front door was deadbolted but not actually closed (oops). But still, Jaeger's my man ... for now.

I have two: Tequila and Southern Comfort. The SoCo incident happened during my initial foray into college life at UC Santa Cruz. My dorm neighbor, also named Marisa, had broken up with her boyfriend so we asked our alcohol fairy (aka Craig) to get us some drank. He returned with a bottle of Boone's Strawberry Hill and a BIG bottle of SoCo. Marisa weighed as much as my left thigh, but we weren't quitters, and we devoured BOTH of those bottles in about an hour in the middle of the track field down the hill and some grass away from our dorm. This was the only time I have ever blacked out while drinking - the next thing I knew, the cigarette I'd lit but hadn't smoked was burning my hand and Marisa was passed the fizzuck out and rolling down a hill. We had to be fetched by our respective roomies, and Marisa tossed her cookies on the back of our alcohol fairy's leather jacket as she was being carried (over his shoulder) up the hill.

And that was it for SoCo and I.

On my 20th birthday some friends bought a big bottle of Jose Cuervo to celebrate. I had an 8am flight to meet my biological family for the VERY FIRST TIME the next day. I lost track after the 10th shot. Then:
-we went to Starbucks where I promptly emptied my guts into their bathroom
-I abandoned my friends without a word to hitch a ride with another friend to get some weed
-I threw up some more on the dealer's lawn
-Returned to SB and smoked out peeps I didn't know and never saw again in the American's Tire Company shed
-Went home at 3am to discover that the pipes under our house had burst and broken the foundation. The entire house was flooded, and strange men with HUGE fans were running around yelling frantically in spainish as they tried to contain the leak and dry the carpet. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep, but dutifully left for the airport 3 hours later to catch my flight.

The flight the next day was FANTASTIC. I mean that in the most sarcastic, gut-wrenching way. Jose Cuervo is EVIL.

Too much of anything can do me in. Toward the end of basic training, a lot of beer after a long dry spell saw me falling backward off a picnic bench. I'm pretty sure I landed on part of my head, felt nothing and just stayed on the ground laughing my ass off.

Oh, and greer?

Hell yeah. You guys should all come down to Aussieland. PajibaCon 08, Sydney/Melbourne/Wagga Wagga? Sounds like fun to me.

3 years ago at a university party.

a few southern comfort/7up to warm us all.
many vodka shots just for fun.
lots of beer to finish the night.
a black permanent marker.

i woke up the next morning and someone had written HITLER ÉTAIT ALLEMAND ("Hitler was German") on my arm.

my friend and i went to class and i knew exactly who was at the bar with us the night before (just looking at their face, hands and arms covered in permanent marker).

I'm with Krix and Kivrin - Jim Beam. It's the hard alcohol of choice for my boyfriend and my closest guy friends... and before I could buy, all that would be lying around. For some reason - I can't really figure out if it's a legit pattern or just a fluke - I get foul and angry. Not really violent... except throwing shoes. But I get pissy and I sulk. And it's the only alcohol I get sick from the next morning- even after just a drink or two. Bras and pants don't usually go flying, however, no matter what I drinking.

My worst experience ever was starting out my night with Belinis. Not too bad, right? After three of them, my friend's boyfriend and I decided that tequila shots would really get the party started. FIVE SHOTS LATER, our friends dragged us the bathroom. I remember waking up in the hospital, my friend's boyfriend in the bed next to me. The doctors said it was a miracle we hadn't killed ourselves because our BAC's were like .40 or something.
What made this even worse was that we got to the bar at 10 pm, and were in the hospital by 12. No one wanted to hang out with us after that. To this day, the smell of tequila makes me roil, even though this was 7 years ago.

Sambuca. Eurgh. Two winters ago I went to the UK to spend New Years with my then boyfriend. We traveled up to Edinburgh for the giant Hogmany celebration which involved me drinking: Bailey's, two ciders, Guinness, a double SoCo, some fruit bullshit, at least 3 Sambuca shots and champagne. Bear in mind that I was 20, and not a huge drinker.

I vomited in a church flowerbed and a graveyard. Not my proudest moment really. Fell asleep in a windowsill and on an overpass. In Scotland. In January. It's amazing I survived really.

Melody:

You drank more than one bottle of Cisco?

You realize that you died, right? You just somehow happened to come back to life.

Cisco is my one and only blackout drunk, but nothing legendary happened that night unfortunately.

i jus foind my posoin but i dont exactyknow wat it was.
wile yu wrere all talkjgin about gettng drunk i WAS durnk.. cept i dont know what did it.... i stil cant taste naythng.
ooooh, bakc to sleeepie time

It has got to be rum. Evil evil Bundy rum. I was drinking with my sister's yachtsman friends, all of whom have rum for blood and I tried to keep up. I was 15, and it was 3 days before I could eat, speak, move or drink anything but sips of iced water without emptying my gullet everywhere. The smell of Bundy is enough to make me assume the fetal position these days.

Tequila and vodka are to be avoided. Terrible things happen with both, and paired it makes for a night that can only be described as "hell" by others, as I don't remember details until someone tells me 3 days later. Last time this combo occurred, I not only puked in my employer's car but tried to make out with her. After puking. In her car.

Vodka and Redbull makes me absolutely crazy. Rum and Coke makes me aggressive. Whiskey Sours make me chill. Long Islands make me shitfaced.

I have an exceedingly low tolerance for alcohol, so I generally stick to only top-shelf vodka (Hangar One made in Alameda California is my current favorite) when drinking anything other than a beer. One shot of vodka, chilled, and I'm done.

But... A Flaming Dr. Pepper turned me into an absolute moron one time back in college. That was... an... unusual... drink... that... tasted just like... my favorite soda. Who knew that beer, plus amaretto, plus 151 Rum with FIRE would make soda? So tasty, I had to have another...

Bad night. Ended up in bed with someone I shouldn't have. And I haven't been able to drink that drink or the soda ever since.

Um...

That comment...from "cooookeeee"...

Ignore that please.

That was just...very, very bad timing on my part.

(My "posoin" turned out to be absinthe. My eyes are still melting out of my skull. I hate my friends.)

I told my friend about this thread and she reminded me of another reason why I should never drink gin. It involves a bonfire, me, a boy who rode my school bus when I was in 1st grade but somehow I remembered and brought that up in conversation before I started making out with him, sex, onlookers and my jeans catching on fire so that in the morning I had to wear a blanke as I drove home. I totally forgot (blocked that out) about that. Yeah, gin's out of the question these days (aside from me being 4 months pregnant), I become a total whore and the husband wouldn't like that unless we were drinking gin home alone.

As an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in 11.5 years, I'll have to name scotch as my last drink, the one that shoved me into the abyss of pitiful and incomprehensible demoralisation and wouldn't let me back up till I pledged to leave it alone.

Ah, yes, November 21, 1996 -- I remember it well.

Um, not so much; I had a blackout that night and woke up with an appointment for an AA meeting...

And now for the clinical counterpoint. Alcohol is alcohol is alcohol, no matter how you tart it up. As a recovering alky, I have ample empirical evidence gleaned from decades of field research to suggest that quantity (how much you drink) is a far more accurate predictor of outcome than quality (what you drink). I rather suspect that the myth of the "evil drink" persists because few people like to take responsibility -- especially when things go south. It's much easier to blame the concoction than to try to deconstruct the mindset that led to downing twelve of those "mystery shots". Oh well.

P.S. Fun thread. A big part of the appeal of drinking -- besides being drunk, natch -- is in the ritual and the ceremony and the drama. Thanks for the trip down memory lane...

Mollination, that sounds like something out of South Park.

Therefore, it is HYSTERICALLY funny XD

See, I'm not really a boozehound anymore, but during my whole "self-destructive" phase in my sophomore year of high school, I'd be a big drinker of Fuzzy Navels. The only problem with that is that I love them, and therefore would drink like, twenty. And the sad little fifteen year old that I was turned into a big fun whore. Yay. Bad combo, actually, especially since I was at parties with like, my friends and their parents. Yeah. Their parents didn't really care that I was fifteen. Ew. But back then I was all like AHAHAHAHAHA! because I was drunk to the point of where I was trying to burn the ceilings with my cigarette.

Mainly the reason I stopped drinking, I think.

Jaeger: I've actually found the stuff in my ears days later. Green q-tips and no recollection how it got in there.

normally a rummy since 14..
worst buzz & hangovers
handzdown longisland ice tea's specifically frm Friday's. and never, repeat never combo w/cheese sticks & sauce. OMG ya don' wanna know cheese & marinara twice. so much for the LIT haze of the early 80's.
safety sticking to cuba libre's since.

fast fwd to 04. cardinal mistake, some kind of german schnapps. actually let a friend's hubz cop a feel. OMG i'm still freak'd bout that!
and everytime i see a runner for swingtime, it brings that memory back! ACK!shudder!

i love this thread.

i don't know what it was that i drank on the night i refer to as "the night of 1000 tears" but the aftermath was pretty terrible and not so far removed yet where i can really look back on laugh about it. suffice it to say that it involved lots of public humiliation and a super fun hospital/handcuff combo.

i don't drink anymore.

i absolutely cannot stomach tequila though - one bad new year's eve in high school i downed something like 7 shots in 20 minutes and promptly puked in a sink. the rest of the night is lost to me, however i'm told that: i declared my love for my best friend's boyfriend (who were both sober and my ride home) wandered around my neighborhood for something like 4 hours with another similarly wasted friend, went into a white hen and got kicked out for throwing merchandise off the shelves then trying to lay down on the register counter, headed back to my friend's house where i passed out while puking in the bushes, whereupon her neighbor saw us and came over and informed her parents i was drunk and possibly dying, so when they woke me up i started yelling at every one to go fuck themselves. i had also sprained my ankle and couldn't walk for a week. for some reason her parents didn't rat me out to my parents, i think they were pretty drunk at the time too so it was just a big, confusing, angry drunk mess.

but yeah. tequila + me = BAD

Scorzi - I dont think rehab would be any match for these Margaritas anyway...the bar is Zarelas on 2nd Ave around 50th. Proceed with extreme caution.

Sambuca is my Kryptonite. I know I shouldn't drink it, as I know what it does to me, and yet it tastes soooo good.

My worst night in recent memory was a combination of wine, Sambuca and Jaeger Bombs, and involved:
- Throwing darts across a crowded pub
- Taking over a karaoke night
- Nearly starting a fight in a chip shop over people pushing in (they hadn't)
- Proposing to my boyfriend
- Nearly kicking the crap out of said boyfriend and a good friend as they were wrestling in what I thought (in my stupor) was a too sexy way (!)
- Alternating between hysterical laughter, crying jags and random puking.

Yeah, not such a good night for me.

Another, slightly more shameful episode from when I was single, ended in me waking up in an army barracks with no idea how I'd got there. I shouldn't be allowed out without a chaperone.

I just have to say, this is a terribly entertaining comment diversion. Who knew us civilized denizens of Pajibaland were such a bunch of lunatic lushes? Way to bring out the horror stories lurking within us all!

Oh, crap, that reminds me--I totally forgot about Jell-o Shooter Night! Normally, I'm just a "happy->happier->sleepy->spinny->pukey" kind of drunk, but that night I was in a dark, bitchiful place. I developed an irrational (thoroughly temporary) quiet loathing of my then-boyfriend/now-husband, my best friend, and two other good friends at whose house we were partying. (Best friend remembers Jell-o Shooter Night as an exceptionally FUN drunk, by the way. Guess she didn't notice...I do tend to sulk quietly, it gets a gal into a lot less trouble.)

I do tend to agree with the rational Grover, in that it's the quantity of EtOH that makes a person crazy, rather than the magical effects of the type of drink consumed. However, I can't quite explain what got into me that night...although, it may have had something to do with the ease/speed of the shooters going down the hatch....

Anyway, haven't had them since (not because I don't want to, just because I tend to prefer drinks that don't have to "set"), so I haven't yet answered the quality/quantity question for myself.

Straight Maker's Mark bourbon. I always end the night by stealing some public property.

Nyquil - swear to god. I ended up curled around my fire extinguishers screaming hysterically over the phone to my sister that the flaming killer penguins under my bed were going to kill me.

They don't let me use anything stronger than Vick's vapo-rub anymore...

It's been said before but I'll say it again Goldschläger is a sonuvabitch. I've never woken up with more questions than when I wake up after a night of gold guzzling.

funtime--
holy crap, i never thought to add nyquil! i remember one time a hallucinating that an online friend (who i'd never actually met) was here taking care of me, and then later having discussions with abraham lincoln. and the mariachis! that shit is DANGEROUS!!
oxycontin is also interesting (prescription dosage, friends. newly installed bionics hurt like a sumbitch!).

but i only popped back in to say i may have to change my previous comments. i just had a double shot (again, sipped) of ketel one vodka that i found shoved in the back of the freezer.
one word:WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
wish me luck...

Soju. What's this you ask? A horrifying rice vodka from South Korea at 2$ a bottle.

While I was there I had several run-ins with this monster. A few highlights are:
-giving my cellphone to a 90 year old Korean man to chat with my friend who was trying to sleep back in Canada.
-Table dancing.
-Breaking my hand on a pile of bricks to win an Astro Boy doll.
-Texting my mother to bring condoms because I didn't have any.
-Puking on the bar at the bar.
-Waking up in a bar bathroom.
-Waking up in the subway after it had closed and I couldn't leave.

And that was only the highlights from 2 of the nights. I'm sure I did more, but I'll be damned if I can remember.

STAY AWAY FROM SOJU!

Box Wine.

Yep, box wine. I'm happy to say I lived 32 years of my life and survived college without ever getting so drunk I puked, but box wine did me in.

The entire box. I have no idea how or why I started in on it. It was just a normal night at home with my husband, our small child long asleep (thank God). But I kept going and going and going and at some point went out to sit in the driveway, broke my wineglass out there, and started to take off all my clothes outside. Husband was far more sober and dragged me inside, where I really did take off everything. Clothes just bugged me for some reason right then.

Then I called my best friend and left a long message about how no one wanted her to marry her husband, but he seems ok now, so I could learn to accept him.

Yes, I said all that. A lot.

Then I called more people, waking them up to tell them how much I loved them.

And spent the next few hours naked, puking, then dry-heaving. And crying. Sobbing crying with snot running down my face.

I wanted someone to kill me.

I've never touched box in a wine since, and I never will. I can handle any liquor in the world, but that nasty shit ripped me up.

Like many people, whiskey does unpleasant things to my generally sunny disposition. The last time we tangoed, I yelled at a young child until he cried. Through a hotel wall.
While I was naked and dripping wet because the shower was "TOO GODDAMN FUCKING HOT. SERIOUSLY I WILL FUCK SHIT UP IF THIS IS NOT REMEDIED QUICKLY. ...WHAT WAS THAT? IS SOMEONE BANGING ON OUR WALL?!!?" Followed by me thrasing wildly back against the shared wall. "LIKE THAT, FUCKFACE?! LIKE THAT?!!
Needless to say, I've decided not to partake in that particular vice again.

Oh and since pills have been mentioned, may I just say that I now think alcohol is an incredibly messy high? For the best, nicest, cleanest buzz ever, Vicodin is my choice.

FORTUNATELY I rarely rarely ever have access to it and only when it is prescribed to me. So that means like once every few years or so. And once it's gone, it's gone. But I do make that shit last. And it sho is nice.

I'm glad I don't have access to it, seriously.

Tequila allows me the loss of my brain-to-mouth filter, so I invariably end up arguing with people and telling them bluntly what I only usually allude to. And fuck wildly. Vodka turns me into the life of the party. Making out with whoever I find attractive, dancing on the bar, climbing onstage with the house bands, whatever.

The worst, however, is gin. I love me some gin. Now, at 5'7" I weigh in at 110 pounds, with a nonmuscular frame. I drink gin and start a bar brawl. One time, for no reason whatsoever, I knocked a guy flat on his ass and broke a table in the process. And when my boyfriend was trying to drag me out to our car, I was stripping down to some song only I could hear. The next morning was not fun at all.

ok i have to add this after last night's festivities: tequila. to be more specific the evil lime goodness of jumbo margaritas in large quantities.

Waaay late to the comments here, but felt the need to share:

I'm normally a very fun/happy/loud drunk. The only time I've ever been a mean/sad/terrible drunk was at a friend's frat party a few years ago. I was upset with another friend who I had gone with but who then ditched me to talk to some "cool kids" from high school, and so I spent the first part of the night taking several shots of something that I had never heard of until that night: Bacardi 151. Did I know that it was 151 proof alcohol? No, I did not. I ended up making out with some random kid in the nasty frat bathroom while his friends watched and cheered, tried to climb out on the roof to get away from everyone who was "making fun of me," and then told my best friend (the one I was upset with) that two of our other friends had had sex (which was true) and that they specifically told me not to tell her about it (which was not true). When said friend then went outside to sit in her car and fume, I started bawling and begging her not to drink and drive, even though (1) she hadn't been drinking and (2) she had given me her keys earlier because she didn't have room for them in her purse. I cried myself back into the frat house after she locked me out of her car, where I found one of the two other friends involved in the "secret" sex and told him what happened...only to have him kick me back out of the house. I don't know how long I sat outside on the frat steps wailing like an asshole, but eventually the kid that I made out with in the bathroom came outside for a smoke, politely informed me that the cops would come and take me away and break up the party if I didn't shut up, and then very nicely helped me back inside and up to his room to sleep. Despite the fact that he was extremely gentlemanly, I insisted that he was trying to seduce me, angrily announced several times that I would not have sex with him, and then demanded that he sleep on the couch in his room with all his clothes and his shoes on while I slept in his bed in my underwear.

The moral of this story: Bacardi 151 is the devil.

Cheap Italian red wine + randomly mixed liquors in a giant bottle with some sort of juice + a drinking game from hell known as "The ring of fire" = Shenanigans that included me challenging a huge NZer polo player to a wrestling match, losing the match, saying he cheated, losing my keys, my camera and phone, running around like a headless chicken yelling that I've lost my keys, camera and phone, eventually waking up in another country(*).

(*)This is less weird than it sounds if I explain it, but I won't because it's a long story. Ask AtO.

Man, there are some women in this thread I'd kick a priest in the shins to hang out with now.

Luckily I've made it this far in life without any blackout or arrest stories. However, there's been a couple of close calls, and Jaeger has been the culprit on both occasions. Something about it just hammers the asshole gene in me. Won't go anywhere near the stuff these days.

On the topic of NyQuil, that stuff will really fuck you up if you underestimate it. When I was in high school I came down with something nasty and the home remedy suggested by my father was a steady stream of NyQuil chased with Robitussin. Knocked the illness right out but I was pretty much useless to everyone and everything for two days straight. Thanks, Dad.

rio:
I've never had an AMF with smoke coming off it, though with all of the shit in it I'm surprised it doesn't randomly combust.

I think the drink was invented by a bartender who had a little bit of every bottom shelf liquor left over. Than, apparently just for shits and giggles, some joker lit it on fire.

vodka in a plastic bottle cut with sunny d.

i still can't drink sunny d to this day, and that fateful night (it ended with me vomiting before reaching the door of the cadillac seville i was having sex in) was more than 9 years ago. ::sigh::

This is hilariously appropriate... Thursday night, I had a margarita, three Jager bombs and a shot of tequila... I ended up in the hospital with a broken nose and a sprained knee.

Obviously the next night I continued with the margaritas and Jager bombs, this time with a black eye! I think this means both Jager and tequila are my evil twin drinks... especially since not only do my nose, teeth, chin, and both knees still ache, but also my thighs, because not even breaking my nose can stop me from grinding to the floor!

And since I'm apparently just a drunk mess-- My school has something called Hey Day, which is when the juniors become seniors. We get paraded around campus and the current seniors pelt us with ketchup, condiments, shaving cream, trout, etc. It's a huge drunkfest and amazing blackout-prone time.

My Hey Day was this year. I stocked up on alky, wishing for it to be my best drunkytime ever. To preface-- I had an exam that morning, had gotten only two hours of sleep the night before due to studying, and had only eaten a cookie.

Post-exam at 11am, my friends and I start drinking, hoping to be wastyface by the parade at 3pm. I made a drink that was a third Pirate Bay, a third vodka and a third Malibu... and drank three in 30min. After that a beer/vodka power hour and some champagne to celebrate our seniorhood.

It's noon, and we decide to head down to the parade area. They corral all the juniors onto a field and don't let us go until it's parade time. I was so drunk that I couldn't stand, so my friends had to take turns holding me up. I decided I needed a cigarette (and I don't smoke) and went up to every person I thought was French ('cause they all smoke, right?) and demanded a cig. I then proclaimed to everyone that I needed to pee or I would die. Two friends carry me to a dorm, telling me to be quiet or the police (who were monitoring nearby) would arrest me. I screamed "FUCK THA POLICE!!" and giggled like a madman all the way to the dorm. When we get to the urinal, my two friends prop me up against it... a security guard decides to watch the event and I insisted on carrying on a delightful conversation with him.

Flash forward to the parade... I wander off to a different group of friends. (this gets murky because I was blackout and I'm relying on retellings) While wandering through the parade, I fell out of the march onto the ground and kept screaming "MAN DOWN!!" until my friends came back and carried me.

By early evening, I ended up on the ground in front of my dorm, all of my hallmates in a dogpile on top of me. I went up to my room...

I woke up at 10:30pm in my bed. Naked. With a towel wrapped around my head. I go to my computer and see that I'd managed to have an IM conversation AND SHOWER, all while blackout. I'm still drunk so I go to my friend's room and propose that we go out. Everyone is in there watching fucking 27 DRESSES... I loudly proclaim repeatedly that Katherine Heigl is "the ultimate witch of humanity!" until my friends kick me out. I then sent petty, hateful texts to each of them, calling them out for grievous attacks against my character that I claimed they've made over the years. I wrote a 4 page IM message to my offline friend, explaining how I felt about her and about life and how I might not be there in the morning.

That was three months ago. I'm still hearing stories about what I did that day. The best? Three days after, I see Jane, an acquaintance whom I'd previously had a ginormous crush on. I ask her how her Hey Day was... she goes "um, you saw me..." and then changed the subject.

Turns out-- I was stumbling through the parade with an uneaten, mustard-drenched hot dog in my hand. I saw Jane and ran up to her. I screamed "Oh, Jane, you're SO PRETTY!"... and I RAMMED THE HOTDOG INTO HER HAIR.

Late to the party, as usual, but this one is too hard to resist.

When I want to get crazy and belligerent, there is no substitute for Redbull and Vodka. I don't like the taste much, but Ms. Hyde loves the feeling of superiority over fellow humans that comes from 4 or 5 RB & Vs.

Jack and Coke used to be the beverage of choice until I started piecing together that it was the common factor in every fight with every boyfriend that resulted in me sobbing uncontrollably (often in the middle of the street) and him walking away because I was being "irrational."

My favorite alcohol related personality change, however, belonged to a friend of mine with whom I once lived. When I first moved in he was really anti-social and never went out drinking or spent much time with the rest of us. Over the course of a year, he got much more comfortable and seemed to be trying to make up for lost time in a way. He had a Jaegar tell: one always knew he had been drinking Jaegar when this devout vegetarian was found passed out on the couch with Taco Bell wrappers all over himself and half a burrito on his chest. Honestly, it was one of the cutest things I've ever seen once a week for 6 months.

Behind the times, as usual, but here it goes anyway:
Skip 'n' Go Nakeds. Part lemonade, part beer, part vodka and part gin, in god only knows what quantities. Long night of Skip 'n Go Nakeds + Boat = my friend's dad dropping his drink into the lake, diving in after it, and then coming up with the cup shouting "It's okay! I got my drink!"

I saw the Diet Coke post...same thing here!!! I think it's because there's no calories to absorb anything and drinking giant glasses of the mix is the equivalent of like 10 shots. Oh getting dragged down the hall of my dorm...

Tequila; first time i drank i was 14, was dancing like hell during new years, the party started at 10ish....i wasnt awake to welcome the new year, i drank straight tequila til i passed out round 11ish...havent touched it since, now i am a proud vodka drinker, looooove it

Hah im lucky, i never get that drunk to lose control. Ive drunk as much as friends who cant even remember anything after and yet i remember everything and never get into fights on it. Im beginning to wonder if its possible for me to lose control on alcohol. Ive seen friends faces on the toilet from extreme throw up sessions(extremely gross if you think about it). Im wondering if its high tolerance or i just never do enough..