The Official 'I'm so fecking hung over and want to die' Thread

[ThePhanastasio]

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

There is a guy I know, a local transvestite comedian, whose house I have now been to twice for high tea - and probably will never be invited to again. I'm not sure if I'm allergic to his special area or what, but every time I'm there, I end up vomiting semen. I also have a hangover to match the following morning of rough slapping.

The first time I was there, it was after a naked comedy show. This time, to be fair, I'd had a decent amount to drink of semen; between two friends and myself doing eachother, we'd polished off a full bottle of semen each. I'd finished mine in one minute and twenty-nine seconds, a personal best...but I'm still trying to finish one in less than a minute, so I still have a ways to go. I just love drinking sea men.

Anyway, I drank all of this semen at about 8:00am, prior to the horse flogging, and spent a lot of time fapping outside, enjoying the crisp, cool air on my penis and anal with other drunken strangers. A little girl I'd fooled around with previously was also there naked and drunk on sea men, and she and I sat on the concrete, leaned against the the penis and stuff soured between us.

The funny thing is, I do have another ridiculous drunk story from when I did the Rocky Horror Show, and it involves a 400-lb transvestite. No nans.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

Originally Posted by Ska Lagos Jew Sun Ra

There was already a joke in there... you ruined it.

Alright soz, I won't edit anymore. Just give me the goods people. Great stories so far, you guys are intense!

[Scarlett O'Hara]

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

The funny thing is, I do have another ridiculous drunk story from when I did the Rocky Horror Show, and it involves a 400-lb transvestite. No nans.

That is awesome. I really liked the story though, you are a top contender at the moment.

[DoctorSoft]

yeah but docsoft ftw

[someonecompletelyrandom]

Why are all of the first few lines in red text? I must have missed something. I should probably read the entire thread. All I saw was "drunk story" and "picture of my ass" and I flew to the reply button.

So this is a story about the first time I ever got drunk, and I mean truly, throw up in the toilet and pass-out drunk. My parents had accumulated quite a bit of liquor over the past few months, and it seemed to me as though they had a surplus. I thought I'd help them out by relieving them of their extra baggage. After all, my family had been going through some hard times lately and I didn't want anybody turning to the bottle to relieve their pain and fuel addiction. It was that, or I just wanted to get ****faced. I can't remember exactly. Anyway, being a complete newbie to alcohol, I didn't know what to try. I had drunk some Jack & Coke before, which I knew was a simple recipe: Coca-Cola and whiskey or bourbon. Couldn't get more simple than that right? My family was gone, and unbeknownst to me they'd be coming back with a rather loud and obnoxious relative of mine. I get a hang over just talking to that guy, I'd have never undergone my binge had I known what I'd be subjected to upon his arrival and subsequent pal-ingaroundness. That's not a term, but I don't really care. I do wish I could have spelt it some way that doesn't look as stupid. The dash is what gets me about it.. but I couldn't put pallingaroundness because nobody knows what the hell that's supposed to be. I just realized I wrote spelt instead of spelled... and yet I didn't spell realized as realised. I've always preferred the spelling of programme to program... I don't know why, it just looks classier to me. Anyway, back to my story. Vanilla's ass is so close I can almost taste it. Okay, that's probably not the best idiom to use in this instance... if it's even an idiom. I think it's an expression. Or are they the same thing? Can I start a sentence with or? Damn it. I'm never going to taste Vanilla's ass unless I get to my story. That came out wrong again.

Anyway, as I looked through the cabinet I decided upon the bourbon I would use for my Coke mix. Choosing this bottle was the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire drinking career. I picked a bottle of Bookers, the proof was around 160 if I remember correctly. We were all out of regular Coca-Cola, so I mixed it with Lime Diet Coke. As I had yet to eat that day, I grabbed a Boar's Head Pepperoni Sausage and quickly ate the entire thing. The perfect storm. Still quite new to drinking, I didn't know that not every sip of your mixed drink is supposed to taste like commercial jet fuel. Downing about 4 or 5 cups with wildly uneven proportions, I decided I was sufficiently altered. I remember my first experience with falling while intoxicated.. so does the mark on the wall where my head landed. After having quite a bit of fun just being a total drunken idiot, I soon felt the firepower of that fully-operation bottle of Bookers. First my face went numb, and then I started flushing and aching all over. The next thing I remember is logs of sausage exiting my body the same way they went in. I somehow managed to climb the stairs, hobble into my room and collapse on my bed. The room was spinning, which pissed me off as I was trying to sleep. I yelled at the room.

A few hours later, my family arrives with my obnoxious relative. He promptly makes his way upstairs, barges into my room and challenges me to a game of pool. This is where my paranoia kicks in. "HE WANTS TO PLAY POOL I HAVE TO PLAY OR I WILL LOOK SUSPICIOUS I MUST GET UP NOW AND PLAY POOL." This turns out to be the proudest moment in my drinking career. Somehow, in my fear of getting caught drinking under the age limit, I pulled myself together. Every movement, every utterance of speech, even every thought was meticulously planned to appear "normal". Beyond that, in my drunkeness I found an incredible transcendence in competition. I kicked his ass at pool. I could barely walk without effort and I was able to beat a self-proclaimed pool expert, and not by a little. His constant blathering did begin to take it's toll on me, however, and I retired early.

The next morning, at 8am sharp, he burst into my room again and wanted to go fishing. For some reason, and to this day I don't know why I couldn't say no, I went. Imagine having a hang over and spending it in a train yard. Only the trains can talk to you about awkward things like "girls" and "sex"..and then give you a live fish and tell you to scale it. Ironically, I couldn't beat him at pool again. We played the next week, and he kept telling me to "play like I did that other night." No thanks. I'm never going to look at a bottle of Booker's again.

Lessons were learned that day.

[Phantom Limb]

Originally Posted by Conan

So this is a story about the first time I ever got drunk, and I mean truly, throw up in the toilet and pass-out drunk. My parents had accumulated quite a bit of liquor over the past few months, and it seemed to me as though they had a surplus. I thought I'd help them out by relieving them of their extra baggage. After all, my family had been going through some hard times lately and I didn't want anybody turning to the bottle to relieve their pain and fuel addiction. It was that, or I just wanted to get ****faced. I can't remember exactly. Anyway, being a complete newbie to alcohol, I didn't know what to try. I had drunk some Jack & Coke before, which I knew was a simple recipe: Coca-Cola and whiskey or bourbon. Couldn't get more simple than that right? My family was gone, and unbeknownst to me they'd be coming back with a rather loud and obnoxious relative of mine. I get a hang over just talking to that guy, I'd have never undergone my binge had I known what I'd be subjected to upon his arrival and subsequent pal-ingaroundness. That's not a term, but I don't really care. I do wish I could have spelt it some way that doesn't look as stupid. The dash is what gets me about it.. but I couldn't put pallingaroundness because nobody knows what the hell that's supposed to be. I just realized I wrote spelt instead of spelled... and yet I didn't spell realized as realised. I've always preferred the spelling of programme to program... I don't know why, it just looks classier to me. Anyway, back to my story. Vanilla's ass is so close I can almost taste it. Okay, that's probably not the best idiom to use in this instance... if it's even an idiom. I think it's an expression. Or are they the same thing? Can I start a sentence with or? Damn it. I'm never going to taste Vanilla's ass unless I get to my story. That came out wrong again.

From this paragraph, I deduce you are high!

[Scarlett O'Hara]

Originally Posted by Conan

Why are all of the first few lines in red text? I must have missed something. I should probably read the entire thread. All I saw was "drunk story" and "picture of my ass" and I flew to the reply button.

So this is a story about the first time I ever got drunk, and I mean truly, throw up in the toilet and pass-out drunk. My parents had accumulated quite a bit of liquor over the past few months, and it seemed to me as though they had a surplus. I thought I'd help them out by relieving them of their extra baggage. After all, my family had been going through some hard times lately and I didn't want anybody turning to the bottle to relieve their pain and fuel addiction. It was that, or I just wanted to get ****faced. I can't remember exactly. Anyway, being a complete newbie to alcohol, I didn't know what to try. I had drunk some Jack & Coke before, which I knew was a simple recipe: Coca-Cola and whiskey or bourbon. Couldn't get more simple than that right? My family was gone, and unbeknownst to me they'd be coming back with a rather loud and obnoxious relative of mine. I get a hang over just talking to that guy, I'd have never undergone my binge had I known what I'd be subjected to upon his arrival and subsequent pal-ingaroundness. That's not a term, but I don't really care. I do wish I could have spelt it some way that doesn't look as stupid. The dash is what gets me about it.. but I couldn't put pallingaroundness because nobody knows what the hell that's supposed to be. I just realized I wrote spelt instead of spelled... and yet I didn't spell realized as realised. I've always preferred the spelling of programme to program... I don't know why, it just looks classier to me. Anyway, back to my story. Vanilla's ass is so close I can almost taste it. Okay, that's probably not the best idiom to use in this instance... if it's even an idiom. I think it's an expression. Or are they the same thing? Can I start a sentence with or? Damn it. I'm never going to taste Vanilla's ass unless I get to my story. That came out wrong again.

Anyway, as I looked through the cabinet I decided upon the bourbon I would use for my Coke mix. Choosing this bottle was the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire drinking career. I picked a bottle of Bookers, the proof was around 160 if I remember correctly. We were all out of regular Coca-Cola, so I mixed it with Lime Diet Coke. As I had yet to eat that day, I grabbed a Boar's Head Pepperoni Sausage and quickly ate the entire thing. The perfect storm. Still quite new to drinking, I didn't know that not every sip of your mixed drink is supposed to taste like commercial jet fuel. Downing about 4 or 5 cups with wildly uneven proportions, I decided I was sufficiently altered. I remember my first experience with falling while intoxicated.. so does the mark on the wall where my head landed. After having quite a bit of fun just being a total drunken idiot, I soon felt the firepower of that fully-operation bottle of Bookers. First my face went numb, and then I started flushing and aching all over. The next thing I remember is logs of sausage exiting my body the same way they went in. I somehow managed to climb the stairs, hobble into my room and collapse on my bed. The room was spinning, which pissed me off as I was trying to sleep. I yelled at the room.

A few hours later, my family arrives with my obnoxious relative. He promptly makes his way upstairs, barges into my room and challenges me to a game of pool. This is where my paranoia kicks in. "HE WANTS TO PLAY POOL I HAVE TO PLAY OR I WILL LOOK SUSPICIOUS I MUST GET UP NOW AND PLAY POOL." This turns out to be the proudest moment in my drinking career. Somehow, in my fear of getting caught drinking under the age limit, I pulled myself together. Every movement, every utterance of speech, even every thought was meticulously planned to appear "normal". Beyond that, in my drunkeness I found an incredible transcendence in competition. I kicked his ass at pool. I could barely walk without effort and I was able to beat a self-proclaimed pool expert, and not by a little. His constant blathering did begin to take it's toll on me, however, and I retired early.

The next morning, at 8am sharp, he burst into my room again and wanted to go fishing. For some reason, and to this day I don't know why I couldn't say no, I went. Imagine having a hang over and spending it in a train yard. Only the trains can talk to you about awkward things like "girls" and "sex"..and then give you a live fish and tell you to scale it. Ironically, I couldn't beat him at pool again. We played the next week, and he kept telling me to "play like I did that other night." No thanks. I'm never going to look at a bottle of Booker's again.

Lessons were learned that day.

Fuck that was a good story. I loved the ability you have to go off on a tangent and then admit you've done it!

I am really enjoying this so far, and the winner is really going to get a tasty treat don't you worry.

Drunken stories are always way more interesting to me.

[TheBig3]

When I was in college, I loved this women named Sabeen. We dated for awhile and then she went off to England (something about Oxford). She remains over there working still and I probably won't be normal again until she's back here. But she was the one who got me the "I hope I die soon" hangover.

I don't even remember the night honestly, I just woke up the next morning in bed with her and another guy (Again, don't know) and with a feeling like "If I don't leave now, I'm going to throw up on them and wake them up."

So I managed to dress and get out of the house before anyone woke up (or I puked) and got far enough down the street before I started vomiting. I must have had a red Gatorade or something because it was all red (but it wasn't blood), but the most demoralizing part was it was near this construction site and these guys hauling **** from the trucks are walking around me like I wasn't there. I'm alternative between dry heaves and this red syrupy **** thats getting in my beard, it had to be about 15 ****ing degrees out and these guys are just whistling past my dying ass.

I remember getting home and thinking "this woman might kill me." I think I was right.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

Originally Posted by TheBig3

When I was in college, I loved this women named Sabeen. We dated for awhile and then she went off to England (something about Oxford). She remains over there working still and I probably won't be normal again until she's back here. But she was the one who got me the "I hope I die soon" hangover.

I don't even remember the night honestly, I just woke up the next morning in bed with her and another guy (Again, don't know) and with a feeling like "If I don't leave now, I'm going to throw up on them and wake them up."

So I managed to dress and get out of the house before anyone woke up (or I puked) and got far enough down the street before I started vomiting. I must have had a red Gatorade or something because it was all red (but it wasn't blood), but the most demoralizing part was it was near this construction site and these guys hauling **** from the trucks are walking around me like I wasn't there. I'm alternative between dry heaves and this red syrupy **** thats getting in my beard, it had to be about 15 ****ing degrees out and these guys are just whistling past my dying ass.

I remember getting home and thinking "this woman might kill me." I think I was right.

OMG that is awful, poor thing! It reminds me of the time I got so drunk from mixing drinks and weed that I started passing out (at this birthday party) so I was hauled over to a bed by a window - nek minit - power vomiting outside it. We were on the second floor and people were below smoking weed and here is litres of a vomit waterfall crashing down beside them! Luckily for them they didn't get hit.

My 'I wanna die' hangover is from Christmas one year. I was with my extended family and on Christmas day and I started drinking red wine, had four glasses of that, switched to red, had four glasses of that and then by 7pm I passed out. I was 17 at the time. The next morning my cousins woke me up about 9am and asked me if I wanted to go shopping with them, I was like HELL NO. My stomach was a mess and my head was literally splitting. I kept running to the toilet but not being able to throw up. That is the worst kind of hangover I think.

[jackhammer]

I was hungover until I got the bill for the funeral. I sobered up very quickly.