It was a cold Thursday night just after the first snow of the year when we embarked upon the Coyote Club. Together Nasty J, St. Pete, Ty, Trevor, Rocket and I were hoping for a night full of titties and boners. We walked in to the club and we all showed them fake IDs from different states (2 TENNESSEE, 2 ILLINOIS, AND 2 KENTUCKY). The bald bouncer asked us who was 21 and we all raised our hands, he called bullshit then the bouncer taking the money said “Hey man,either they are or they have some good ass fake IDs”. We all looked at each other and smiled. At the start we just kicked back and watched then Ty and I spotted a decently hot stripper and went to the stage. By the time she was done our group had taken up the entire side of the stage. The were immediately attracted to Rocket, this turned out to be not such a good thing. A few strippers went by and I decided that it was time to get Rocket a Ride. I gathered a couple bucks and got him up there with a chick that looked very similar to Kara. She beat his ass and his stomach. He got down…then the next stripper came out and, without anyone paying a dime, got him up; on stage and did the same thing only this time she rode him around like a dog. After that happened I felt bad for Rocket so I bought him a Vodka & Red Bull. We got a few typical lap dances then the girls started searching for a guy for private dances. A more attractive stripper approached Rocket and asked if he wanted one, he responded with a “Whatever”. The stripper took this as an insult and was upset. Myself, being the soft hearted person that I am, felt bad for the small naked lady that smelled like peaches and guilt tripped Rocket into buying a dance. He came out and all he said was “I’ve never been raped or assaulted before but if I had it still wouldn’t have came close to what that was…she molested my penis!” As the bar closed the first stripper that got rocket on stage came to me and Rocket and looked Rocket up and down for several seconds. Rocket said “I don’t have any more money” she replied with “I just wanted to look at you”. After my mind was befuddled by this statement I managed to get out the words “Rocket! Dump [Then Girlfriends Name] and fuck her!”

Whenever my friends and I tell people this story they think we’re exaggerating or lying about the events; I assure you that is not the case. July 8, 1993 was the day I was brought into the world. July 8, 2012 is the day I would turn 19, but it would be a birthday filled with both headaches and celebration.
I woke up around ten o’clock that sunny Saturday morning and I was ready to get my day started. After a quick run to Sonic with my friend Boone it was time to get things rolling. We stopped by Farm Fresh (a convenience store in my hometown) to see Stark and discuss the night’s plans before returning to my house. I decided to have a few friends over to swim and drink a few beers. We had some girls over, drank beer and played some basketball in my pool. With the hot summer sun beating down on us we had no clue that a storm was brewing for later that night.
When Gazelle showed up he was looking to join in the fun too but he didn’t have any kind of liqour and we were all out. Boone found out that his brother would supply the drinks if we could pay, so that problem was solved without much trouble. However, my friends Stark, Diesel, and King were left dry. After watching some porn on the computer and playing some video games they finally found a way to get some beverages. I’m not sure where they all got there drinks from but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was that we knew we were in for a good night.
It calmed down for a few hours, which was probably needed, but when the rest of the men showed up that meant it was time to get at it again. We called probably a dozen or so girls and eight or nine showed up but only three are important enough to mention, “Girl A”, “Girl B”, and “Girl DD”; named after their assets of course. The girls showed up around nine o’clock with one of those frozen bag margarita drinks a piece. By this time we all had a few games of beer pong under our belt and were ready to take them to the sack. King quickly identified Girl DD as his prey and made it very clear to the rest of us that she was off limits.
Around eleven o’clock our buddy Woodlayin’ arrived at my house; he was shirtless, shoeless, wet, and drunker than three indians. We deceided to go swimming for a little bit but after several near drowning scares we decided swimming was a bad idea. When the girls got a hold of our buddy RT for some more drinks they wanted to play a couple of games of beer pong themselves. We all went inside and with the musical works of “Tyga”, “Mac Miller”, and “Travis Barker” playing in the dimly lit living room and game film from our previous football season on the television everyone seemed to be broke up into small groups. The atmosphere reminded me of a scene from Animal House combined with a dirty brothel. Girl B was talking about fucking Stark and Gazelle all night and she had to make a choice. When Girl DD eyed Rocket however, groups and friendships were shortly broken.
Rocket and Gazelle took Girl DD and Girl B to fuck in my dad’s bedroom. While they were in my dad’s room Stark and King went crazy with anger. They threw trashcans, head-butted walls, and Stark ate glass. That’s right he literally picked up glass and ate it. He always was a weird little shit. Seeing the destruction of my house Boone, Diesel, and Woodlayin’ got jacked and decided to join in the fun. They flipped the beer pong table, threw chairs in my pool, and threw empty beer cans across yards and over fences. I live in a rather residential neighbor hood right off the highway so this would’ve been quite a scene for my neighbors if they were to see it and good grounds to call the cops. Then Diesel yelled the quote that would sum up the whole evening, “We’re like the Bloodhound Gang!” During all of this Stretch was lying down, as he always does at my parties, tweeting. Control of the evening was lost; my only hope was that the worst was behind us.
The excitement didn’t stop there though. When Rocket and Gazelle emerged from the bedroom, alongside the girls, they were astonished at how fucked up the house was. The girls looked like their dog had just died and they were forced to eat it. Whenever the girls started getting a bit too arrogant, King took matters into his own hands. He crushed their high spirits by calling them names and bringing up prior events they had been involved in. The coversation something along the lines of this:
King “YOU’RE THE FUCKING SLUT THAT ACTS HARD TO GET THEN HAS TWO GOD DAMN BEERS AND FUCKS THE FIRST GUY YOU SEE!”
Girl DD “Why don’t you just leave you’re causing nothing but problems”
Me “FUCK YOU WHORE YOU LEAVE”
We then made the girls cry and want to leave. As they took “The Walk of Shame” out of my house Girl DD muttered “This is the worst night of our lives.” We laughed and high fived like we had just won the Super Bowl. Girl A however drove so she was stuck with us.
After some further destruction, Woodlayin’s ride showed up to take him home. His ride arrived to my house pissed and wanted to fight us. King laughed at him and said “Get back in your truck; you’re not going to beat anyone’s ass here!” His ride, standing there with a blank look on his face having just been totally demoralised by that last statement proceeded to walk back to his truck. HOLY SHIT WHAT A PUSSY. After this Boone stormed outside and told Woodlayin’ to just get in the truck and leave. Woodlayin’ must have takin this as Boone saying “Fuck you Woodlayin’ go to hell you piece of shit”. Woodlayin, stumbling, charged Boone. King quickly shoved Woodlayin’ to the ground and when he got back to his feet the angry driver came out of the truck yet again. When the driver started yelling at Gazelle, Woodlayin’ came to Bolen’s defense and wanted to fight his own driver. This kid was THAT fucked up. After some more talk Woodlayin’ left; he was still shirtless, still shoeless, still wet, and if possible drunker than when he came. After these events, at around 4 a.m., we decided to go to bed.
We awoke to the voice of my dad, “The Mad Pater”, at 8 a.m. He was more than upset at the state of his establishment. He sweared at us and told us that this would be the last party we could have. He found Rocket and Girl A in his bed, beverage containers everywhere, Boone was gone, glass in the walking path, and a stop sign by the oak tree behind my house; to this day none of us know where it came from. All that these things meant to us is that we had one damn good night!
We proceeded to crawl out of bed and pick up a large majority of the mess. Even we were amazed at how messy the house was; it looked like it had just been through D-Day on the beach of Normandy and someone had just come by and collected all the bodies.After telling this story around 100 times the next couple days we decided that the party needed a name. We settled on The Battle of Wounded Table. It was a great night, one that we will never forget. All the excitement made for one of the most memorable nights of my life. This was the best thing my friends and I did all summer and I’d do it again in a second…the exact same way, the exact same circumstances.
THE AFTERMATH
As we told stories from that night to eachother we learned several things. Boone left without anyone trying to stop him after the early morning Woodlayin’ debacle. As for Girl DD and Girl B, they were both ashamed of their actions. Girl DD made excuses that she didn’t know what she was doing and still hasn’t talked to Rocket (At the time this was written it has been nine months). King was upset with Rocket for fucking Girl DD for about a week. Girl B claimed she thought Gazelle was actually Stark; Gazelle stands at 6 foot 3 inches 220 pounds and Stark stands at 6 foot 170 pounds-in other words she’s full of shit. Gazlle had whiskey dick the whole time he has fucking Girl B, poor son of a bitch couldn’t even get off.

To show that I’m not full of shit about the stop sign here is a picture.

I like Taaka Vodka because its cheaper than beer.I am less guilty drinking it because I think noone can smell my breath.I passed out temperarilLy but when I wake up I will have more of my delicious Taaka Vodca.CHEERS! and…PARTY ON DUDES

It’s the time of year when your social calender is bound to be  full, and for most people that means plenty of alcoholic beverages. However, after a few nights on the town can leave you feeling pretty bad, not to mention taking its toll o your wallet. The problem is, nobody wants to be the cautious one of the group who is unable to enjoy their night out. Here are a few things you can try to make sure you can drink responsibly, without becoming boring.

Standard drinks

After a few years of drinking, most of us know our limits and how much we can handle before passing out. After all, most people can only take so much before regular nights out turn into full on alcohol abuse, and you probably know when to scale it back. However, it’s worth knowing the measures for a standard drink, and how much you’re really consuming when you go out. Many bars will try to tempt you with cocktails, shots, and other gimmicks that lower your inhibitions and make you want to drink more. These are fun occasionally, but if you’re out several times in a week then sticking to beer and lower alcohol drinks is safer. You don’t have to sit and count how many standard drinks you’ve had, but keep in mind that the recommendation is five or less a day for men, four for women. Spread out over the night, that should be enough to keep your buzz going.

Mixing drinks

Most people will tell you that mixing your drinks is bad, but that’s not necessarily the case. It’s more to do with the sheer amount of alcohol you manage to consume when you start getting adventurous with your booze. Most people start off on beer or wine before moving onto the shots when they’re already drunk. This means you’ve already hit your limit, so it gets harder and harder to keep track of the amount you’ve consumed, leading to a pretty bad hangover the next day. If you know your friends are going to be getting the shots in later, then nurse your beers earlier in the evening. This means you can keep to some kind of limit without missing out on the fun.

Make an excuse

If you’ve got the kind of friends who won’t take no for an answer, then come up with some good excuses for going easy on the drinks. Being on medication, having an early meeting, saving cash, or trying to stay healthy are all good excuses for having a low alcohol night. Try to limit nights out with those friends who are really heavy drinkers, seeing them when you know you’ve got a day off to recover. If you want a night out without drinking at all, then being the designated driver is a good way to give your liver a rest. Nobody will expect you to drink, and you score some major brownie points with your friends.

Pour your own

If you go to a house party, then learning to pour a standard size drink can save you from a super-size hangover. It’s not surprising to learn that college students often over-pour their drinks, and underestimate the amount they’ve drunk. If you get handed a drink in a red cup, it’s almost impossible to see how much booze you’re drinking, so pouring your own gives you more control over this. If you can find a measuring device like a jigger, then it’s easy to measure the right size drink, allowing you to pace yourself and enjoy the party. As for games of beer pong, you might want to be
out of the room for that one.

Water, water, everywhere

Not every drink has to be alcoholic. If you’ve got a long night ahead, then the occasional glass of water can make the difference between being tipsy and being full-on drunk. It also means you can stay hydrated, something you’ll be grateful for the next morning. If you’re in a hot, sweaty club, then ask for plenty of ice. Not only will it keep you cool, it’ll subtly water down your drink, meaning you’ll have longer between refills. Ice based drinks such as daiquiris are good because they are refreshing and take a long time to drink. Just check how much alcohol is being poured into the blender.

Although a drunken night is fun, everyone needs to cut down now and again. Just follow these tips and you can drink responsibly while still enjoying yourself. The more careful you are, the longer you can stay out at night, and the more you’ll remember those crazy moments with your friends.

Olympic snowboarding medalist Shaun White has been charged with vandalism and public intoxication after pulling a fire alarm at a hotel in Nashville, Tennessee, police said Monday.

White was arrested after trying to flee the hotel in a cab and kicking a bystander who tried to stop him, according to a statement from the Nashville Metro Police Department. The 26-year-old “appeared to be extremely intoxicated and smelled strongly of alcohol,” and a hotel employee accused him of smashing a phone, police said.

I’m a Canadian boy, working in Turkey for the summer (didn’t know a thing about turkey untill i came here, i hate Turkey). My girlfriend and i made friends with the owners/employees of a bar (The Place) in Bodrum, this is where we have been drinking all summer. The other night we were at The Place drinking and i met a couple lads, one from Turkey and one from Cyprus. Me and Cyprus started rapid-rating cheap beers because after smashing him 7 (seven) times he still wanted to beat me in a beer race. Now i love, and drink alot of beer but a combination of me hating my job and the cheap price of alcohol, i’ve been getting fucked right up all summer. we left The Place and went to a place called tequilla street, an alley of bars who serve tequilla only. 5 lira’s, $2.70 or 1.5 euros for a shot of tequilla. Fuck. After probably 15 shots of tequilla, all body shots off of my girlfriend, i instantly black out

I came to at a shitty restaurant eating soup that was made out of fuckin goat’s neck and cheek. Don’t worry, the turkish guy said it was good. Im sure it was. i was then dared to chug a beer with probably a half cup of chili peppers in it. You Canadian boys know i did it. I blacked out again

I woke up in the front seat of a choach bus, 3 hours into the trip with a pissed off girlfriend. she said the night before i got to my room at 6, and at somepoint during the night i booked a trip to a historic site called pamukkale. she also told me that at 7 am (when the bus was leaving in 20 minutes) i started yelling “what kind of fuckin IDIOT books a bus at 7 am??” anyways i fall asleep next thing i know im sitting literally in a desert looking at a thousand year old graveyard. Most probably the worst hangover i have ever had. and this amazing night only cost me about $500!

I was fuckin turkeyed. I enjoyed a few drinks called “adios amigos”, if you can find a bar that serves them, hit them up. Trust me, why wouldnt you?

So, like most saturday nights, my friends and I decided to get schwaysted. Not to be mistaken with wasted, but schwaysted.

Schwaysted [shaway-sted] ADJ
Overly drunk; high; completely fucked up

Now that we have that straighted out, lets continue. We had a bottle of cake three-olives, some of the easiest 70-proof liquor to ever cascade down a throat,2 Gs of the finest herb, and a 15 pack of BL in 16 oz. aluminum cans. Me and my girls were pretty schwaysted.

So, I’m texting this guy I like. My friends, being over-the-top lightweights, are not even coherent enough to understand the word “stop.” I decide to offer my services in the fellatio department to my guy friend (for those who don’t understand, head; blowjob; ssing the d)

See, you may think this is revolutionary! Almost good for me!

But No. Not at all.

You see, my friend is a little shy. A little to inexperienced. But luckily he said yes. And then came the blackout.

I woke up the next morning in someone elses clothes, and most importantly, a different house in bed with a guy, but not my guy friend. My best friends boyfriend. WTF.

So here’s the blackout story (as told by Ginger [really, her name is ginger])

My best friends boyfriend came over to pick her up, after i called her. She was passed out. I grabbed on to him for balance and “accidentally” started making out with him. Him, being pretty toasty too, decided to kiss me back. We left and the rest is history.

Here’s a lesson for you all: Hide your phone is you’re planning on getting schwaysted. It’s the best idea.
Hey, you might not even end up losing your best friend and having sex with her scum bag boyfriend, who is now obsessed with you.

so. HIDE YOUR FUCKING PHONE.

Don’t drink and drive.

To be honest with you, I really didn’t like Mad Dog when I first met him.

I think we were in 7th grade, meaning we were both only about 12 years old at the time. He was a chubby son-of-a-bitch, and he had the dumbest haircut I’ve ever seen: a bleached-blonde bowl cut — though, to be fair, it was the late 90s.

He was an arrogant bastard, and for that reason, we eventually became friends. I’d say this probably happened when, around the time of my 17th birthday, he assisted me in leaving home to go live with the Amish — I’ll tell that story another day. We also became close during what I like to call “the Summer of Drugs” a few months later, when we smoked pot daily and tripped on cough medicine every weekend.

Anyway, fast forward to the two of us being 19. I was hanging out at Mad Dog’s place.

Now typically, around this period, Mad Dog’s place was always hopping. He had a revolving door of whores and scumbags going in-and-out of his grungy basement — where he always had obscure 70′s music blaring — every day and every night.

That is, all except this night.

You see, that night our hometown was being battered by a monstrous thunderstorm. It was a torrential downpour, winds knocking down branches, thunder shaking houses and scaring dogs and old people. Thus, even the filth that could typically be found at Mad Dog’s place wasn’t there — except me, that is.

So, there we were, drinking and bullshitting, listening to Pink Floyd or Yes or something, when suddenly, the room went black.

“Damn,” I remarked. “The fucking power went out.”

Mad Dog rubbed the stubble on his face. Then, after putting his cigarette out on his tongue, he said:

“Well… ain’t but one thing we can do.”

So, in the midst of the storm that had knocked out the power, the two of us grabbed his mountain bikes and went out for a ride.

I have to tell you, dynamites, whether or not you like riding bicycles, there isn’t anything like riding bikes during a thunderstorm through the center of a town when the power is out. It was as though the town had been evacuated, like we were the last two people there.

“Hey!” Mad Dog hollered.

“What?” I screamed back.

“My coke is gonna get wet out here.”

“You brought shit out here?” I smirked.

“Yeah,” he said, smashing his empty beer bottle in the middle of the road. “Well… ain’t but one thing we can do.”

Minutes later, geeked out of my mind, I was laughing maniacally as thunder and lightning erupted all around me. As we rode by houses, I screamed, “Fear the horsemen of the apocalypse, fools! The end is here!”

Eventually, we made our way down towards the country club. As we biked by, we couldn’t help but notice the giant white tarps that had been erected on a hillside.

“Hey, Mad Dog,” I pointed. “You think there are actually people in there.”

Mad Dog winced, growled, and biked towards the tents.

As we came up to the tarps, even coked up as I was, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Had the people at the country club decided to try to shelter themselves outdoors with a tarp rather than staying inside? Did they figure, “What the hell, the power’s gonna go out, we might as well all stand under a fucking tarp and wait for the storm to blow over?”

Unlike me, who was actually doing blow over a storm… or the slut who lived next door to me, who was probably over blowing the storm…

Anyway, Mad Dog and I swaggered up to the tent, half hoping the winds were going to knock the tarp off any moment, sending all the middle-aged yuppies scattering for the Lexuses… or would it be “Lexi”?

But as we pulled back the curtain to the tent, we found no one inside. Instead, we found cases upon cases of booze.

There was wine, there was hard liquor, there was beer, both foreign and domestic, both micro-brew and macro-brew. It was a treasure-trove, especially to a not-so-rich 19-year-old.

“Holy fucking shit!” I gasped; Mad Dog was already halfway finished chugging a bottle of Merlot.

Apparently the country club folks had been having some kind of khaki affair that was interrupted by the storm. They must have all fled for the hills, leaving all of their fucking shit out, ripe for the taking.

Verily, I say, Mad Dog and I drank well that night, indeed. We guzzled gin, tapped tequila, imbibed bourbon.

We got fuckin’ wasted, folks.

Eventually, as I found a happy medium between the coke and the booze, I came to my senses and asked:

“Mad Dog, I, I hate to think this is true, but… I don’t think we can drink all of this. What are we gonna do?

“Well…” he belched while pouring vodka into his eyes. “Ain’t but one thing we can do.”

So, we haphazardly wobbled on the bikes back to Mad Dog’s house. Along the way we were stopped by a cop. He said, “Hey, you can’t be out here.”

“Yes,” I slurred back. “I am aware… Time is of the essence!”

Finally, once we made it back to Mad Dog’s house, we grabbed our cars. In a few minutes, we were back at the country club. We fucking took everything — all the beer, all the liquor, all the wine, the silverware, the glassware, the folding chairs, the tarp, everything.

By the time the power came back on, Mad Dog and I were too drunk to see anything anyway.

We blacked out during the blackout.

“Jou know schumthin’, Mad Og?” I smirked. “People schould put dare fuckin’ schit ‘way.”

One night me and my friends decided to get really drunk at our favorite spot, Oak Logg. After drinking multiple types of booze, beer, vodka, yager, etc., we wanted to leave, so we all hope in our van and head out. After dropping off one of our friends we took a scenic route through town where passed a police station. Caught up in the moment i flipped the station off and we all laughed. Everyone in the van asked if i had flipped that cop off, i didn’t see a cop so i thought they were screwing with me. We get a little further down the road and blue lights kick on, our driver said told you so, everyone in the van except the driver is blown away. The cop comes up to the van taps on the window and looks in to see me in the passengers side and promptly comes to my side. I roll my window down and he lets me have it, hes blad, fight, and has a tribal tatto sleeve, and is part of the k-9 unit. He asks, “Are you high, drunk, or fuckin stupid?” I respond with, “i’m really, really stupid, sir” He threatens to break my arm and send me to get a cast all at once if he saw that again, and he let us go just like that. My friend in the back imedatly took a big swig of his beer and we all laughed and took off home.

Okay so last night I went to one of my friend’s parties & started chugging a bottle of vodka like a champ. Next thing I knew I was making out with 3 people & flashing everyone my nipple rings. 15 minutes later I was sprinting around his yard hugging everyone at the party, and then I laid on a table or something & all I remember after that was falling into his little pool & then passing out in the tent & puking.. this morning I woke up with no clothes on cuddling with one of my guy friends.