Ah, drunks...

I've got two pet drunks this morning - some friends came over after we'd had a few at the pub around the corner from my house so I could burn them some CDs, and the drinkyness escalated to the point where my stash of whiskey was killed off and, undaunted, we started shooting my cooking brandy. Somehow I kept my head enough to hide their keys (I don't even have a hangover, it's totally weird, I clearly must not have had as much as they did), and thus they're crashed on my couches, dehydrated, headachey, sure-to-be-cranky lumps of drunkard. And when I got up, I found a trail of destruction leading from one of the couches straight to the bathroom, where one of my blotto friends seems to have lost a knock-down drag-out cage-brawl with his clothing. Since nothing's actually broken and there were no resurgent booze & dinner artifacts found in the bathtub or sink, I'm giggling my fool ass off right now.

I suspect today's going to play out interestingly...

:puke:

Now you can sit back and laugh at them when they wake up and feel like shit.

After one night like that, one of SO's friends went outside to piss. Next morning, we heard angry meows, coming from outside. Since the guy gave us the cat, we forgave him, but not sure the cat did.

During another night like that, SO and my friend started yelling at each other over whether SO should join Equity. Doorbell rings - it's the cops, with the report of a domestic disturbance. Being the soberest, I elected to talk to the police, and explain that they were just arguing over the actor's union (which the cops found hilarious).

Just then, I recognized the Officer's last name. "Hey, are you one of the Wexfords from Dresher? Awww!! You're the Baby Wexford, aren't you? You used to pack groceries at Genaurdi's Market! Hey Ralph, it's the Baby Wexford, I went to school with his sister Marie! And we just ran into you big sister Gina at the shore!!....." Before I could get any further, Officer Wexford decided that perhaps he had the wrong address. The other cops had to pick themselves up off the ground and wipe away the tears of laughter.

Ah, good times. But at least we never hit the cooking sherry...

(/names changed to protect Baby Wexford, who is now Detective Wexford!)

Between my cat allergy and my landlord's dog-aversion, no furbabies were harmed in the making of this bender.

That's like the best cop story I've heard in many a moon, thanks for posting it! :D

:D

These days I've just been drinking a lot of Diet Coke. Over the road trucking and alcohol don't mix. I do miss a good beer buzz, but I don't miss the hangovers.

My personal favorite is a Burger King Egg & Sausage Crossanwich (With the tater tots and orange juice) - then I get the biggest coffee/americano I can find!

For those rare times when one overindulges...

I forgot the McGriddle. It works well to soak up the remaining remnents of alcohol and launch you into carbo-coma (much needed hangover nap).

:rofl:

they've gone way too far :thumbsdown: :rofl:

I can state with some authority that such occurences
are more common than many people believe.
That wardrobe will just act all nice and mild-mannered
until you are drunk and your guard is down,
then BLAMMO!

Don't even get me started on those passive-aggressive
'house-key-hiding' jackets!:rofl:

since I have had any drunks laying around the house. But when I lived in one of several group houses, I used to frequently come downstairs to go to work and trip over a drunken "Revolutionary Poet" or two ( they used to arrive periodically to visit my roommate complete with drums and various smokables and drinkables)They would arrive the previous night, imbibe, play music and orate, and then fall sweetly and drunkenly asleep right near the back door.

Ah those were the days. Now all we have around are the occasional wino or two...

cheers :beer:

...lost all appeal to me years ago. Working for years in bars, especially stints at the door, exhausted my patience and tolerance for them. Their incoherence, odor, volume and stupidity annoy me now. I especially detest the rheumy, old, broken-down alcoholic types that I still spy with frequency.

Alcohol is an ugly, ugly drug.

Had I any idea that tying one on with my pals on a Friday would make you impatient, I'd never have rent the moral fabric of our society like I did last night. I swear to never annoy you again.

...if our society didn't have such hypocritical standards toward drug use, it would alleviate a lot of it. In my opinion, it would be safer if you and your buddies could have gone to a few hash bars instead.

I once heard an anthropologist discuss the differences between the East and West and their 'tudes toward drugs. He made the point that in the East, the cultural drugs of choice were more often hallucinogens and opiates, while in the West (predominantly Europe) the drug of choice is alcohol. He further correlated the violent and belligerence brought to the fore by alcohol with the West's general history. He said societies that embrace more introspective drugs tend to be less colonialist and violent.

Now, there are certainly problems with his conjecture as there is no shortage of violence in Eastern cultures, but it was an entertaining hypothesis.

But I do think it's rigoddamndiculous that the stuff's illegal, there absolutely should be pot bars.

When I was in college, my drug of choice was 'shrooms. I was as big a belligerent smartass then as I am now that I've embraced boozing, so yeah, I also have a bit of a problem with that anthro's oversimplification.