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

So I haven't made a thread in a while. And this is it. THIS. Pretty much the greatest thread idea really. At the end of the day, I'm seriously hung, it was our work Christmas party last night and I not only won a raspberry award but I ended up getting pashed by a married sales rep. Awkward.

So tell me why you are hung over and whether it was worth it.

Drunken stories will be approved and moderated by me, so you may find after posting, at a later date your words have changed and I have made the story more interesting. The best story gets a picture of my fine ass.

Urban is exempt because he has nothing to play for. :laughing:

To clarify, is it a picture of you, or a picture of just your ass?

It's a picture of me and my ass. To clarify.

I see. Well, is there anything else I can get instead?

I was super, super hungover last Friday from a binge drinking spree the day and night before...

I'm totally starting drinking just for this.

I am hung over right now.

Depends on what you want. ;)

Cool story bro.

I have a very long one, should I post it here or PM it to you so you can moderate it?

Obviously I have to write it down first....

Yeah, the schedule was pretty much this: pre-pre-drinking, pre-drinking, drinking, and then some more drinking later that night.

The only thing I want to die is this thread.....

Och, I couldnae hae said it muir muckle drappae mesel'.

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.

From our phones, we re-added each other to facebook, hugged, and talked about good times. It was a happy time.

At around midnight, the comedy show was over. At this point, a nifty BAC calculator informs me that I was at about .079 BAC, which would technically be legal to drive. So, mind, I was sobering up quite a bit.

We made our way to his apartment, and talked. I was feeling completely fine and sobering up even more. Still a little more talkative than usual, but nothing too bad. After about an hour and a half, without warning, I suddenly had to vomit.

I was seated on his couch, didn't even feel drunk, but the urge was overwhelming. I knew I'd never make it to the bathroom in time, so I did what I thought was the best idea, and would save his floor the most: I puked in my purse.

I was humiliated by this, sure that I would never live it down, and confused because I'm not a big puker even when taking straight shots of liquor chased with beer at crazy parties. At this point, I wasn't sure that his apartment was to blame.

The next time I was over there was after another show. We were at the bar for four hours once again, and I'd had nothing to drink but 4 PBRs. I was barely even buzzed.

Sure enough, we get to his apartment, and within an hour I've puked all over his floor. I'm not proud of this, but I really don't think my alcohol consumption is to blame. If I believed he'd ever allow me into his apartment again, as a test I'd go in completely sober and see if the puking still happened - which, I'm almost certain, it would.

This shemale and I were about to get married on a boat mother****ers. Two days before the zombie wedding, the four midget men stripping in the wedding party - Me, My two best buddies, and her brother - hop onto her father's penis the beloved Mercedes for a 24-hour orgy with a Las Vegas stripper. My married high school teacher is actually my cat and has the same flurry level as his imaginary students when he's coming into his pals. My dentist friend, is worried about everything, especially what his controlling girlfriend thinks. Because she disapproves of traditional male bonding rituals, He has to lie to her about the stag, he telling her that they are going on a wine tasting tour in the Napa Valley. Regardless, he intends on eventually marrying her, against the advice and wishes of his friends. And my other friend seems to be unaware of what are considered the social graces of the western world...

We had a sick night bitches!

I like eating my cat out.

Incredible story, Ska. I think the ass - pic might be headed your way.

About a month ago I went to my friend Rylie's house and started doing vodka shots till we got pretty drunk, then we do a few bong hits and roll two massive joints. My friend Ryan picks us up. We all drive over to our friend Useen's(can't remember how to spell his name, he's black) and then go to a party at his older brother's apartment. I think we were the only people under 23 that were there.We get there, already drunk and stoned, and light the two joints up. Then **** gets sketchy. A bunch of greasy guys start snorting coke and **** so we're like boys, let's ditch.

We drive into a trailer park, cause we need some weed. We phone up our dealer and get 2g. He meets us at the corner, we do buisness and he leaves. Then we notice a cop car coming around the corner. We're like fuuuuuuuuuck cause we were paranoid and thought he was gonna talk to us. We pull out and then drive through the alley, drop our friends off and drive away safely.

Me, Ryan and our other friend Tyler all sleep at Ryans. Tyler falls asleep right away and then Ryan looks at me and says 'wanna get drunk?'. I'm like **** yeah, even though I'm already sorta drunk, ridiculusly high, and it's 3:00 AM. So me and him sit in his bed and down half a bottle of R&R, a full bottle of sour puss and a few beers. I was ****ing beyond smashed. We go outside for a smoke and I ask him if he wants to go for a walk. He says no, it's 4AM. So I try to go to sleep but can't. Then I'm like **** it, I'm going for a walk. I take a beer and my smokes.

I first walk to the 7-11 where I somehow manage to buy an iced tea. Then I sit in the back have my iced tea, and down smokes while I sing along to Dinosaur Jr's You're Living all Over Me album. Then I walk down to the laundromat and drink my beer. Then I walk to the sporting goods store and pass out on the side of the building. I wake up 20 minutes later and stumble to Ryans house where I puke my guts out in the toilet before passing out again at 5:30 AM.

I wake up at 8:00 with a pounding headache and my phone screaming at me. My dad is calling to say I half to be home in half an hour to help my dad's friend move out of his apartment. I'm like fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I stumble home and me and my dad drive over to his friend's place where I work for like 5 hours. I manage to not puke the whole time, but it was a ****ing struggle, lemme tell ya.

That sounds just like a story my cousin would tell, except replace "weed" with "heroin".

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

:/

:laughing:

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.

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

:laughing:

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

yeah but docsoft ftw

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.

From this paragraph, I deduce you are high!

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.

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.

:laughing:

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.

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

Sending me a picture of your ass would be like sending someone a picture of a bar of chocolate when they're hungry.

Probably not the best idea, Vanilla. You know how sexting can be. :D