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Yes, years ago. Not been drunk in years
There are only four answers to any question: Yes, No, I don't know, or the Correct Answer.
In political-speak, I believe this is known as "walking it back."
I pissed in the hedges at UGA. Yeah, i got arrested, but it was worth it.
"Give him six" "We don't give a damn about the whole state of Alabama" "Grit N Grind"
Good one. My brother in law and I pissed on the Horseshoe at OSU. I had won a substantial amount of scratch at the horse track and we were celebrating!!!
Best Drunk decision, IDK, but I CAN tell you it wasn't the decision
I made to order a pitcher of Rum & Coke for myself one lost night
for Last Call at the Last Lap Tavern circa 1979, I still have residual
Hangover pains from that evening....
Best decision: forgetting the decisions I make when I'm drunk
Ah, the Last Lap. I made many drunk decisions there, at Flanigan's and at the bar in Shelborne Towers and I can say none of 'em were good.
"Never take for granted what it means to be a Volunteer." Peyton Manning
That reminds me of a good drunk decision I made.......I attended the UGA/TN game between the hedges in 98' right after Jamal Lewis got hurt when everyone and their brother was picking us to lose (including the Game Day crew in attendance)....I went down to the sidelines/end zone where the TN fans were going to rush the field after we completed the win. Our fans rushed the field and I just kind of casually walked onto the field and got about half way across when I realized I was the only one around that didn't seem to be a player and I noticed many fans with plastic cuffs and or pepper spray (I think a daily beacon reporter was sprayed if I remember correctly) and guessed I was one of the few 'fans' on the field that wasn't arrested/cuffed. So I casually turned around and walked off the field calmly as if I belonged there...
Jumping off my roof (a lower portion) to crowd surf at a party I threw while living on Forrest ave. Ahh the good ole days.
This guy's prank didn't turn out so well.
The Alabama fan who poisoned the iconic Toomer's Corner oak trees at rival Auburn has been sentenced to three years in prison.
BUTCH IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. GO VOLS!
Same here...if you change "years" to "hours".
Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.
Great thread, uthappy. I may have to post a few stories myself....just as soon as my head stops pounding and I can keep my head out of the porcelain pit long enough.
*note to self: Make sure toilet has been flushed recently before sticking your head in....and that is NOT a Baby Ruth, so don't touch it.
My roommates and I were hammered one night about 5 years ago coming back to Fort Sanders area and one of our friends was standing by his car (I think on 17th street), next to a parking meter. He had gotten a ticket for the expired meter, so the three of us decided to help him--by stealing the meter. We broke it out of the ground and took back home with us. Next morning that meter was laying in the couch like it had had a bad night, too.
3 years ago I was having dinner and lots of drinks at Ruth's Chris the night before the KY game. Calipari and his staff come in to eat. I walk straight to his table and stop and pretend to look back at my table. I gave him a great crop dusting and my friends captured it on camera.... One of my finest moments......
When I was 18 (back in the '70's) I was kind of like a heavy drinker, along with being an occasional left-handed cigarette smoker. My cousin and I had been partying hard one night and ended up in Krystals on Rossville Blvd in Chattanooga. My cousin Chris is an a$$hole, no other way to describe him, and I have been in several fights because of him and with him (remind me to tell you about the fridge tossing fight sometime). Being family, I overlooked a lot, even though he didn't deserve it. I could tell quite a few stories about our adventures, but I won't.
I'm almost always a funny, romantic drunk. Chris is a fighting drunk. Oil and water. We had already gotten into a fight that night over his mouth. I'm trying to mellow out and enjoy the savory gut-bombs when I notice a HUGE black male come in and walk over to the pay phone. He was at least 6'-6" or more, probably 320+lbs. Shoulders as broad as a tank. I'm thinking, "Dang, I'd hate to make HIM made!"
As he's hunched over using the phone, my ass of a cousin notices him and says VERY loudly, "When did they start letting (N-word)'s in here?" The room starts to spin rapidly, and I come to the realization that this is how my life will end. With my face frozen in horror, I glance back at the giant that the slur was directed to. The behemoth doesn't even turn around.
He just slightly turns his head to the side, and says in a voice so deep that I swear I saw the window glass vibrate, "Yesuhday." As I felt the warmth from the urine slide down my legs, my cousin, I guess intimidated by the deepness of his voice or the incredible power in his reply, just muttered, "that's cool, man, that's cool."
He didn't kill us, even though it may have been justified. I then made my best drunk decision ever. I never went out drinking with my cousin again.
I was working construction in the early '80's in Jacksonville, Florida. Several of us single guys got together and decided to save some money and just split the rent for a trailer. It didn't save us much money, though, because we spent the savings on alcohol. On a Saturday night when I had struck out at the bars, and came home and drank rapidly to keep from being depressed about my lack of a spooning partner for the night, I reached a new level of "Really?"
According to sworn depositions from witnesses, the following incidents are 100% true:
I went into the bathroom and, for reasons unknown to me, emptied an entire can of shaving cream on the walls of the bathroom. I then took a Playboy magazine that was in the bathroom and took it apart, page by page. I then took the pages and stuck them to the wall, using the shaving cream as the adhesive.
I then apparently passed out, with my pants around my ankles, in the bathroom floor. One of my roommates was decent enough to pull my pants up without violating me (at least, that's his story) and get me into bed. The great decision that came from that night?
I don't keep shaving cream in the open in the bathroom anymore....
This may be one of the best ones anybody's told.
So, to capsulize your story: You went barhopping and struck out lookin'. You proceeded home and then proceeded to consume large amounts of alcohol. You went into the bathroom, stuck pictures of nekkid women on the wall, and dropped your pants around your ankles. Then after your Star Wars imitation(Han Solo) with your light sabre, you allow your roommate to get you into bed. And you think we're concerned about whether you keeping shaving cream on your vanity? My only concern is how much my gut hurts from after reading some of your posts. +1 pepevol7ball
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