i drank when i was a teen,but after years of watching people fuk their lives up,i try to stay away.i never drank beer,only vodka and whiskey.a buddy of mine got 18yrs for getting drunk and killed somebody pulling out their driveway.hes still locked up and wont be out til 2025.everytime i drank with my buddies,somebody went to jail.the last time i really drank,i ended up kicken in my neighbors door and stealing his pot,for no reason other than being drunk.we lived on the top floor,he was under us,and there was atleast 20 cop cars out there,shining lights into my house.if i wouldve got caught probly wouldve got some time.i have plenty of war stories being drunk,but nowadays i only smoke pot.iv seen friends end up alcoholics and turn into junkies or crackheads.alcohol makes u think your tough and end up stabbed in an ally somewhere south of the border.i grew up in a family of alcoholics and still deal with it to this day.my aunt died last year of alcohol poisoning.i dont mind people who have a few drinks,but people who want to get wasted and try to put on a show...oh yea herees another story.2 years ago my friend threw a house party.everyone was wasted.my buddy calls up his ex,and starts talkin smack to her brother,who is a monster.my buddy calls me into the room tellin me danny and his boys are on the way.my buddy had a gun.welll when the boys showed up,i left out the front.what happened next is a full on fight breaks out,my boy never got to use his gun.he had a wine bottle broke over his face and broke his cheek bone and needed surgery to fix his eye.after all that my boy gets locked up for 6months for handling a firearm while intoxicated,he had it registered so it wasnt illegal.my buddy lost his union job making 40$hr,got the shyt kicked out of him,and now lives with his mother somewhere inland.this message is brought to you by travelers club vodka.dont get drunk and make phone calls
I hear ya Cep. Some people can't handle their liquor. Those that can't, shouldn't. Those who can, do. Anybody who gets so drunk to put on a show doesn't need to be drinking, I call it amateur hour. Go to any local pub at happy hour and you'll see what i'm talking about. Those who are able to have 4-6 beers in the comfort of their own home or another's home without ever turning nasty aren't the problem. My days of getting black out drunk are over, as it takes way too much effort to get that way anymore, and I don't recover as quickly as I use to. Definitely prefer the herb over a drink, not too much of either, but a little of both works like a charm.
The only thing good about booze is how many times I've gotten laid because of it. But now that I think of it, that probably equals the number of times I didn't get laid because I was too drunk to f***. So all in all its a wash. Add in the fights, scrapes with the law, arguments with my wife, and bad hangovers ( oh don't forget all the epic dawn patrol sessions missed due to said hangovers only to show up dehydrated and looking at blown out conditions as a few dudes are smiling heading to their cars: "Dude you missed it, it was epic until the wind got on it"). Alky-hol is no bueno!
And if you do drink, don't do what I used to do when I got off the yay - Drink Jameson and coffee - a legal speedball so to speak. The caffeine and the booze and the sugar fuel the blood. I thought the caffeine would help me handle more booze. After 3 of those I turn into a total jerk - not picking fights, just being a general smart alek and trying to stir the pot. Asking stupid questions, asking stupid questions, making statements.
Epic Drunk Story
Fall of '96, not-to-be-named College
My friend had a friend on the football team so we went to the "Football House" as they called it to party after one of their games. Many beers, a couple of games of 15-cup beer pong and a cigar later, I found myself upstairs watching a movie in a dark room. Then it hits me, I have to throw up. I stand up leave the room and realize I have no recollection of getting there and I have no idea where the bathroom is. I start opening doors trying to hold back vomit at the same time. Finally I have no choice and let one spew in a dark room. I leave, close the door behind me and continue to search for the bathroom which I finally find. While in there, I hear banging on the door: someone sounds upset. I finish throwing up and open the door and find a very irate football player demanding that I clean up his floor of his bedroom. I apologize profusely and grab some toilet paper and start picking up bits of puke on this guys floor. He gets me some paper towels and some spray but is really making me feel like a douche for doing it (which I admit I was). So vomit cleaned up, I feel a second wave coming on so I head back to the bathroom (now I know where it is yay!) and commence round 2. Here is what I think happened while I was in the bathroom. Football dude 1 tells a couple other football dudes what happened. Super-Aggro Steroid Football Dude hears this and flips the f out. They all flip out. I hear banging again. This time I'm questioning if SWAT was called and is doing a drug raid of the place the yelling and banging is so loud. Nope ain't opening the door. Window - well I'm 3 stories up with a straight drop down, so that's a no-go. After a couple minutes, I hear a calm voice asking me to open up that he wanted to talk. He promises me that he won't hurt me. So I crack open the door and a giant Samoan, lineman-type guy is standing there. He says "These guys want to kill you". I said "Great!" He says "You should run." I said "You have to give me a chance." He said "On the count of 3". He got to three and basically just bull rushed into the group of football guys that had gathered to beat/kill/maim me. I squirted out of there and LUCKILY saw stairs going down. At the speed I was going I think my feet only touched two stairs on the way down. I saw my friend on the way down and he got two words out before my afterburners kicked on. I hit the first floor where there was - no lie - a packed dance party going on. I mean wall to wall people. I made like a bull of Pamplona and charged straight through. Beers, drinks, girls, cigarettes, whatever - went flying. The only thing noisier than the dance music or the disrupted party-goers was the sound of yelling by the football team that was just about to give up a 99-yard rushing touchdown to the dude that puked on their carpet. Out the door I went.