Put another tally in the So Co category.
I was 18 and partying with a friend at her mom's house. We both puked in the kitchen sink AT THE SAME TIME and then took another drink to get the taste out of our mouths.
To this day, I can't even use peppermint toothpaste and she has no recollection of that afternoon.
Hey, I was in my 20’s when I first posted in this thread. Ah the good old days….
Not me, thank God. I didn't realize this was an older thread at first, but sure enough my story was there on page 1. I think I barfed a little in my mouth just re-reading it.
I never really liked it in the first place, but it was a time that you drank what you could get. And drink it I did. We were car camping in some rowdy campsite, I drank almost the whole bottle.
I distinctly remember skipping down the gravel road at twilight. In a daze I remember looking up from the ditch wondering how I got down there from the road…
That may or may not have been when I dislocated my shoulder. I doubt I’ll ever know for sure…
I eventually made it back to the camp and sat in a folding lawn chair. I awoke the next morning, still in the lawn chair though now lying on the ground, leaning on a dislocated shoulder, in an amazing large puddle of my own vomit.
The friend I was with hadn’t faired much better. Sometime during the night he had walked into a car antenna and was (thankfully temporarily) blind in one eye with blood everywhere.
The car was standard. I couldn’t shift and he couldn’t see. I drove us to the hospital while he shifted by feel.
In Canada? Really? Duties in?
I don't know how you all survived!
I have a few too many of these as well. Not as many recently but that's because I now have a wife. I will give you my favorite "one moment"s The first is the first time I ever drank.
It was the night before my cousin's wedding. I was a groomsman, I was 15. We all got steins as our groomsman gift. They held 3 beers. I believe we ran out of beer after I had 3 steins. I was going strong so I asked if there was anything else left. I found the bottle of Jack and filled my glass half full (so as not to over induldge.) I had finished about half of that when the beer run returned. I figured I'd just top off the rest of my mug. I had heard the song about bourbon and beer. I had drank about the equivalent of a beers worth of the slop I had created when I started to notice something was terribly wrong. (This feeling came moments after chasing a cat through the neghbor hood screaming here kitty kitty, my first sign, hmmmm.) I no longer felt the euphoria of teen drunkeness. We we standing out back and I calmly said "I am going to puke." Someone had the sense left to grab me and turn me facing away from the patio. It began. I have never since projected anything from my body as rapidly or forcefully as the first push. I hunched there for a little while and thought I felt a little better so I turned back around to tell everyone. I then proceeded to douse everyone and the food in a lovely smattering of used beer and Jack. Needless to say it put t bit of a damper on the party. However things got going again after I passed out on the couch. I still have the pictures of me with a bucket around my neck covered in shaving creme and other such things. Woke up 30 minutes before we were supposed to be at the church and swore I'd never drink again. Of course the rest of the guys were drinking in the parking lot when we got to the church (hair of the dog, I guess.) I nearly puked at the site of the beer. I swore I would never drink again.
The second is the second time I ever drank.
It was about a year and a half later and I was mourning love lost, so I thought I would drown my sorrows. My sister had just gotten married so the liquor cabinet was full. I pulled out the Cutty and bottles of vodka and gin that were the cheapest my parents could buy. I proceded to make a mixed drink, all drink no mix. I drank about two highball glasses of the mix and was feeling good. I then made my next worse drinking mistake, arguably the biggest. I drunk dialed for the first time. I left messages with three or four exes and finally actually talked to one. She was concerned because I didn't sound well (no kidding.) She decided to come and see me. So in the time it took her to get there I had consumed another glass. When she arrived I greeted her at the door, glass in hand, and before she could even come in she cringed her nose and asked "what the hell are you drinking?" After a few minutes of talking we proceded to do a little more "talking." Then I told her my girlfiend wouldn't like it if she knew what I was doing (I had no girlfriend at the time, don't know what I was thinking.) So after the slap I proceeded to say I am sorry and begged her not to go. I chased her outside into the snow, barefoot. The next thing I remember my younger sister came home from a party and I am lying in a snow bank with my pants undone barefoot. (It seemed, by the tracks in the snow, I had crawled around quite sometime before passing out.) I swore off mixing and drinking cheap booze after that, and I have not made that mistake again.
My youth saw most of my alcohol induced idiocy, unfortunately not all of it. Ah, to be young and have it to do over again.
calix meus inebrians.
disce quasi semper victurus vive quasi cras moriturus.
My worst drinking experience was the night before my 21st birthday. After midnight we went out for my "power hour". It was the last day of college for the semester, started drinking after my last final around 2 PM. Someone bought me a shot called the 4 Horsemen - Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and Jose Cuervo - all in one glass. Not pleasant.
Bar was closing, so we walked home. A cop pulled up behind us, because we were walking in the middle of the street. I turned around and puked on the hood of the cop car. This was in North Dakota, in the middle of winter. That part still makes me laugh
Wow, I never knew there were so many different words for Vomit.
So far I've seen:
barf, puke, ralf, projectile, hurl, heave, morning spew AND evening spew. Have I missed any?
Great stories Curt!
Also yak, shouting groceries.
My new current favorite: Chug. I know it means to drink rapidly, but my 10-year-old niece started using the word "Chug" for vomit a couple of years ago, and I've been using it this way ever since.
"Wine only turns into alcohol if you let it sit."---Lindsay Bluth
Shouting groceries is brilliant.
Praying to the porcelain god.
Isn't there also one that has to do with a Buick?
Up-chuck, or chuck for short.
They named a hamburger joint in SLC after that one.
Many years ago (mid 80's) when I was still newly married, I'd pick up a buddy every Sunday and we'd hit the links. Afterward, we'd go somewhere and have a few drinks. (Those of you who are married can already see where this is going.)
He was even poorer than I was at the time, and having just received a brand-spankin' new credit card, I told him I'd treat. My favored drink at the time was a Kamakazi, and after a few of those, someone near us ordered a blue drink that I think was called a Seahawk Cocktail. Must have had Blue Curacao or something like that in it. The 'Hawks game was on the tube, so my friend and I decided to switch to those. Of course, since I was buying, he'd drink anything offered. I'm not sure exactly how many of those things we had, or even how we got home that evening. But the next morning in bed, through my hangover, I do recall a mightily pi$$ed off wife screaming that I was going to clean the bathroom. I stumbled inside and saw that a good percentage of our white bathroom was now blue.
I've tended to stay away from anything blue ever since.
As a postscript, the next Sunday, after making many, many promises to the wife, I went to my buddy's apartment to pick him up for golf as usual. Much to my surprise, his apartment was empty! I found out a few weeks later from his father that he had joined the Army and was at basic training at Fort Benning, GA! I can't imagine what kind of bender would make me do that!
I don't always drink beer...but when I do...you'd better just stay away from me, okay?
About 6 years ago I was at a house party. One of my friends introduced me to Black Russians (kahlua and vodka). As the night went on we ran out of vodka and tried to come up with a substitute. We then started to mix kahlua and tequila. Bad idea... After two of those I started to feel sick and decided to stumble home. I spent the majority of the night lying on the bathroom floor, shaking and sick.
For years afterwards, if someone opened a bottle in the same room as me the smell would make me feel sick. It has gotten to the point where I can handle the smell, but I have never gotten the courage to drink it again... especially when mixed with tequila.
I think you just made me sick reading that.
Calling to a fish named Ralph
Bark at the ants
paint the walls
"I was astonished to hear this, if only because I have never felt that loving Burgundy precluded one from loving Pinot Noirs—or any other wines—from elsewhere."
Another SoCo OD experience here. I wonder if there's something about drinking too much of that stuff that leads people into being a wine nerd later in life?
I drank 3/4 of a 750. I had never drank more than 2-3 drinks (I'm not a small person) prior to this occasion, and the others at the party were so surprised at the sight they egged me on, which I stupidly obliged.
Lots of puking.
Now, even if I don't know I'm drinking SoCo (say it's mixed into punch or wop), I'll still get sick to my stomach.
I was reminded of this story the other day and I’m thinking this might be the best place to share it as it involves vomit.
This is the most embarrassing/awesome wine story I have heard, unfortunately I wasn’t there to witness first hand. A close friend and colleague was taking some clients out to a nice dinner to celebrate the success of their recently completed project together. It was my friend, a young associate of his fresh from college, and 3 people from the client (2 girls, 1 guy). Before dinner drinks led to a couple bottles of wine and lively conversation. They were all having a good time when it became apparent that one of the women from the client probably wasn’t a very experienced drinker. She was starting to slur a little bit and making some more off color comments, but all in good fun and they were all taking cabs so my friend kind of shrugged it off. Well the last glass of wine must have done her in as she made a funny noise and then proceeded to put her head down and vomit into her ample cleavage. This obviously brought a quick hush to the table. The lady calmly unbuttoned her shirt, took out her napkin and started to clean her now nearly fully exposed breasts. Everyone is starring at her in shock, especially the young associate of my friend sitting right across from her. The best part of the story is the lady sees him looking at her and she looks at him dead in the eye and whispers “do you like what you see”.
Needless to say there was not a lot of eye contact next time my friend visited this particular client.
we have a winner - Tequila and Kahlua. 'nuff said.
Wine makes daily living easier, less hurried, with fewer tensions and more tolerance. - Benjamin Franklin
Gin & Dr. Pepper, no ice. Long story.
I gagged just reading that.
It wasn't easy to type...
My friends were celebrating a birthday. I started with an 05 Baumard Quarts de Chaume and a bottle of red. Then switched to beer. Then I switched to Tequilla shots and cigars. It was good Patron. I hugged the toilet for an hour. I can't have Tequilla anymore. The thought of it makes me queasy.
Originally posted by Board-O:
It's truly amazing the amount of meaningless posts you make.
"All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved." Matthew 10:22
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