A Trip Down Memory Lane

With the Birthday Upcoming (This Sat Nite @ 10pm Hurricane OíRiellys – all are welcome), my friends from college have been blowing up an email chain as they gear for a reunion after a 2 year hiatus. Seeing as how they are traveling back for my b-day, it is only fitting that they remind me of all my blooper reel moments during school. But in my defense, I think I deserve a little credit.  Usually, when people have an awful night drinking or do something completely embarrassing, you hear them say, ìI am NEVER drinking again.î  Now usually this vajajay statement only lasts a few weeks until they are at it again (prefacing that statement assuming you did not murder someone in a rage or get caught on COPS).  Either my friends love me too much as a drunk or donít love me enough to have an intervention, but here are just a few tastes of my college/post college career as I have absolutely NO shame and will still continue to booze with the best of ’em. (I will not even speak about High School b/c some of those chess parties were too wild to mention on this website.)

My top 3 and some honorable mentions:


1.  ìNo loviní for Pukey McGeeî ñ Fresh off my last official relationship when I was 22, I had my Senior year in college to look forward to.  My first single weekend, I end up getting a certain older (28) woman to bring back to her place from the Greatest Bar.  However, did I mention this was my first weekend as a free man so my friends bought me about 25 shots of Vodka, Jaeger, and Tequila?  So I get brought home and I start makiní it with this chick.  Get down to my SHAMROCK boxers when I have to RUN to the bathroom.  I violently and colorfully throw up all over her bathroom, not to mention wake her roommate up bc she thought I was getting stabbed to death.  After about 15 minutes of upchucking, I hop back in bed WITHOUT RINSING OR BRUSHING MY TEETH and try to hook up with this girl again.  She tells me we arenít hooking up anymore.  I ask why?  She tells me because I threw up and absolutely wreak of throw up/booze.  I sit there for 5 minutes adamantly denying blowin’ chunks.  I eventually pass out pleading my case.  All thay lawyering must have made me weary.


Waking up I have absolutely no idea where I am and am still hammered.  I go to the bathroom and am appalled at how disgusting this bathroom is.  These people live like animals I think to myself. Who pukes all over the floor, toilet seat and sink and doesnít clean it up.  Psht, DISGUSTING.  This girl wakes up and I ask her where she lives (address).  Luckily, I know where I am and I call my boy Kev from NU to come pick me up 10 minutes away.  I book it out of there and dash for the nearest Dunkies so I can get me a chocolate milk.  I get picked up and tell my tale.


Only a week later I get an email from a mutual friend who tells me I was the one who made said mess in bathroom.  Well Iíll be dammed.  Hey, I owe ya one.


2.  “Beer Pong over Poon Tang?!?  Are you kidding me?!?” –  I had been set up by a mutual friend and brought this chick out to a party.  I don’t date.  The way I have always figured, a girl will drink a lot more at a party and I will have to pay a lot less.  It’s win win!

I was having an awful night at the beer pong table, couldn’t win a game.  All of a sudden who appears at this party but Tibbs, the Sergen, and the AK, mostly bc they ran out of beer and women at their party but I don’t care how they got there.  The reason: me and Tibbsy step up to the pong table and run s#it.  Finally after knowing him for 3 years he finally has done something productive!  We start smoking everyone, sometimes even beat people twice, prompting me and Tibbs to taunt them until we are blue in the face.

And then it came!  No, not me in my pants bc I was finally winning, but that face/off that every man gets at a party when they bring a chick.  This chick approaches me and wants to go home…WITH ME…for the best 10 seconds of her life I presume!

She was about a 7-8, (maybe 11 at this point bc I was so drunk,) on the scale of 1-10, and really cool, but seriously did it really matter?  Cmon, this was a girl…that wanted to “leave” with me.  She could have been an obese bearded woman and Id still have slept with her.  However, it was only 2am, the fridge was full with beer and I was having a lot of fun.

I told her, do you want me to call you a cab?  There was that awkward pause followed by the slow, “Ok, um, yea, sure.”  About 5 minutes later, the cab rolls up and she starts outside.  I catch up with her outside and do the whole fake, “Oh, do you want me to leave with you because I will.”  She insists that I stay and my plan worked bc now I can say I offered.

I go back inside and everyone is shocked to see me.  “You didnít go home with her?” my boy Mike asked.  I was like, “I’m on the pong table.”

Needless to say, I am still called queer to this day.  BTW she did call me the next day and we did end up going out again so I must have done something right or she just had nothing better to do, but either way, Iíll take it.


3.  ‘The “Nice Tits Lady” Story’

I donít know which came first, the chicken or the egg.  For those of you young men around the Boston area, you may have noticed that women around the bar scene can be a tad stuck up and bitchy. However, my friends from college were assholes, so who knows who is to blame.

This last story is not so much embarrassing, but funny.  We were at Tequila Rain one night before graduation and my friends were attempting to talk to this group of girls who were outside smoking their Ultra Slims.  Of course one thing leads to another and my friends start exchanging curse outs with this group of ìSkanksî ñ My New Haircut anyone? (Youtube It).  I was always the peace maker in college, the calm cool collective one.  I interject and fore the most part calm everyone down.  Just as I am about to get my friends to walk away one of them says something to me (we still cannot remember what was said to this day) but I turn around and start cursing this chick out to the point where my friends are trying to calm me down.

To make a long story short, this chickís friends explain to her that I was the nice one and in return she starts complementing me.  Canít really remember what she looked like but do remember she was well endowed and was showing them off.  ìYou are really nice.  Iím sorry.  You have nice eyes etc…î

I am so hammered I think she is Fíin with me so I just turn away.  Just as I turn away, one of her friends grabs me and asks, ìArenít you going to say anything nice to (I think Jenny)?î

ìAfter meeting this duesh the only nice thing I can say to her is… Nice Tits Lady.î  I flipped her off and walked away.  She could have been the one.  Instead, she will always be remembered as the ìNice Tits Ladyî that got away.


Honorable Mentions: 

ìPulling the Triggerî all over our RAs dorm my Sophomore year after a long Marathon Monday and even longer year of hating that duesh.

Blacking out at 6 consecutive LNOís ranging from age 19-23 and doing incredibly stupid things before, during and after them.

Not to mention the countless places that I have urinated where I shouldn’t have, such as on the Museum of Fine Arts and my girlfriends clothes next to my bed

Post College, just have received my first Drunk and Disorderly a few weeks ago so I no longer carry my cherry.


All in all, a smarter person would stop drinking or at least tone it down, but my friends ensure me that if I do they will disown me.  If you come out this Saturday, I can guarantee you that I will have another story to add to this piece.