The Health Risks of Binge Drinking

“What…the…FUCK?”

This is exactly what I said to myself when I awoke one morning from an eventful night of drinking. To put a twist on this, and to keep things interesting, I’m going to attempt to Quentin Taratino this story for all of you out there in cyberspace.

That nasty little bugger up there is called a Uvula, for all of those who don’t know. And when you combine certain things in certain orders, this is what happens. It’s very uncomfortable.

Anyway, it was a promising Sunday morning at about 10:00am. I awoke on the couch in my apartment, ahem, Penthouse, hung over and wondering what exactly happened. I had a pounding headache; my limbs felt like jell-o, my throat was extremely scratchy, and something was restricting my breathing. I had no clue what was going on. I tried to clear my throat, but all I felt was pain. I exhaled, and felt something flap down and lay flat on my tongue.

“Oh shit. What’s wrong?” was my next thought.

Rewind to Saturday night and let’s recount a few events.

Our night started at about 9:00pm at a friend of mine and WhiteRice’s place. Our friend A was going to be having a small shindig; a few friends, some new people, and booze. WhiteRice and I got there early and began drinking. We started playing a few games of beer pong. At this point, it was only me, WhiteRice, A, and his girlfriend.

Now, I don’t usually play beer pong because, well, for one I’m somewhat of an obsessive compulsive about germs, and two, because I don’t like to fuck around; I’m just in it to get trashed, have a good time, say stupid things, and degrade people if they get in my way.

I figured since it was just me and WhiteRice drinking out of these cups, it was OK. After a few games, I was loosened up. This is when people began to arrive. There were a bunch of girls; they didn’t faze me though. Tonight, I was all about getting shwasted. As more booze was flowing through me, I began to get careless about the cups. We rotated games with other pairs of partners, and in the off time WhiteRice and I mingled with the newbies.

• We ripped on a girl who had never had a sip of beer in her life. I mean, come on. How do you come to college (She was a freshy) without ever having tasted ice cold burr? We said she was lame, weak, and didn’t know what life was like because of her inexperience.

• We picked on a little weak one (literally…I could have snapped her in half over my thigh. And I’m no Arnold Schwarzenegger) who was from god knows what country. We thought that country was wiped off the map anyway. And then WhiteRice and I convinced her we didn’t know each other, as if this was some sort of way to get her back to our place.

• Some really stupid girl was wearing really stupid jeans. Completely hole-y, barely any material, bleached….just stupid all around. I feel sorry for her because we really tore her apart for those.

I’m sure all of you know that when you get drunk, you get the drunk munchies. So we were munchin’ on pretzel sticks; high in sodium. This is in between rotations of games of beer pong, where I seemed to forget all about the fact that about 10 or 15 other people were drinking out of the very same cups I was. It was stupid, but hey I was drunk and forgot. This went on till about 3:30am, when we decided to leave. At this point my roommate and I were pretty wrecked.

The entire time at A’s, I was craving a frozen pizza I had just bought which was waiting for me in the freezer. WhiteRice agreed to share it with me. As soon as we walked into our place, we turned on the oven to get our meal prepared.

Within a minute, I was passed out on the couch. Luckily, WhiteRice noticed and shut the oven off. Phew.

Morning came; I felt what seemed to be a baby’s arm in my throat. It was 10:00am and I was groggy, feeling like shit, fully clothed, and my eyes were blurry and almost dried shut from my contacts. I felt something slimy, swollen, and fat resting flat on the back of my tongue. I could barely breathe. When I exhaled, my Uvula slowly and heavily swung forward.

I got up to assess the damage in the bathroom. And thar she blew; my Uvula. If my Uvula was a girl, right now she'd be a Type 1 fatty (see post entitled "Time Really Changes People...and I'm Not Only Talking About Mentally and Emotionally" for description).

So why did this happen?

Well kids, this is where I teach you something…finally.

My swollen Uvula wasn’t a disease or sickness. This sort of thing results from a combination of things. The countless fluid ounces of Busch Light, Keystone, and Miller Lite, really dehydrated me. Coupled with the high sodium amounts in the pretzels we were eating, my body was as dried up as your fat ex-girlfriend’s hoohah. Additionally, I passed out flat on my back with my mouth open (I know because that’s how I awoke in the morning) breathing in the dry air like a dumbass. I seriously wish someone took a picture of this. Each of these factors along with the passing of germs and bacteria from the cups in beer pong contributed to my unfortunate morning.

So what’s the lesson here? Use your own personal cup when playing beer pong. And don’t be a dumbass and pass out on your back.

Time really changes people...and I’m not only talking about mentally and emotionally.

Back in high school my best friends and I had our list of hottest girls that we would never get with. Of course, many times we’d argue about the rankings and who was truly number one. Sometimes it was that chick with the uber fat booty; you know who you are. Other days it was the really quiet underrated girl that no one thought to even rank. We’d pick out the stereotypical hot cheerleaders and dance girls, or the just that group of girls who were known for their proficiency in Party 101. A large percentage of our ranks were populated by girls of lower classes, because well, we had seen so much of the girls our age and we really just got bored. I know; that’s pretty dickey.

Anyway, there was this one girl. Unsurprisingly, she was two years younger than us. We’ll just call her Karissa for now. My buddy RawDawg (He came up with that name for himself. I don’t think I need to go into any explanation of what it means. Let’s just say it suits him really well) and I had our eyes on her throughout all of her glorious development. She wasn’t anything spectacular her freshman year, but by her junior year she was absolutely gorgeous; long and lean legs, perfectly bronzed skin, a juicy rump, I have to say really full and perky D cups, and an exceptionally cute face. Day in and day out, during our routine conversations of all the hottest girls we could never have because “they were too stuck up”, we fantasized about her.

Nonetheless, time went by and time went by. I think we all know what time physically does to people right? Well, we graduated, went off to school and she did the same. Luckily facebook, being the amazing social networking tool that it is, kept us posted on the changes her body was going through. Basically, she got fat. I know it’s terrible of me to dwell on this topic again, but whatever man. Anyway, she was a different type of fat. There are two types of fat in this world:

1) Sloppy, downright unattractive, and smelly fat. You would never want to get with this type of fat because, well, it’s just not socially acceptable and your friends would just really make fun of you. Unless of course you’re into that type of thing.

2) Overly voluptuous-uber thicky thick-border line too fat- still really pretty in the face-you can see evidence of a dime piece somewhere underneath the 50 or 60 lbs of unnecessary baggage-fat. This type of fat is more socially acceptable among your friends for one reason or another.

Karissa had become a #2. She was pushing her luck though. Had she gained about 5 more pounds she would’ve eaten herself right into the #1 spot. Anyway, RawDawg and I were speaking over the phone, as we hadn’t chatted in a while due to his arrangements with school.

First we caught up on each others’ lives. “How’s school, work, girls, etc.” Eventually we got to what we were really good at doing; judging girls and rating them based on physical attractiveness. As usual, this was done using facebook, because of its photographic cataloging qualities. We came across Karissa. And upon taking note of her drastic physical transformation, we identified where she stood in our ranks. It was at this moment that her level of beauty really became questionable.

RawDawg: “I really wanna bang Karissa”

Me: “Like now? Or 40 pounds ago?”

RawDawg: “Well, I’d still do her now.”

Me: “I dunno man. I really don’t know. “

Do You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth?

Our quote board is home to many of our greatest pieces of dialogue. Like I said, we have very dirty mouths. I’m just going to let the more controversial ones speak for themselves. Here’s a couple for now. We've all contributed equally, however the authors of each will remain anonymous. Enjoy.

“If I wanted to, I could get a boner right now.”

“I got 2 hours of sleep. Woke up. Went to work for 8.5 hours. And then came back. No shit I’m tired. And on top of that I FUCKED!”

“What do you mean? Like she masturbated on you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? She masturbated on you?”

“She sucks at giving head. She’s terrible. I might as well jack myself off.”

Your Girlfriend Got FAT Dude!

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Prologue

For the first two years of my college career, my living situation didn’t exactly permit an eventful social life. I mean, I am more than grateful for my sister and brother-in-law for housing me in their downtown condo for my freshman year of college. But heading home every weekend to work and cater to a significant other hindered my possibilities for excitement. My sophomore year was even harder on me. My school schedule was clustered in the middle of week, which meant I only had to be on campus three days. The other four days, I was commuting home and working. Finally, my junior year of college in the great city of Chicago is when the debauchery started.

I moved into a swanky penthouse on the north side of the city, on Loyola University’s campus, with a buddy of mine from high school, and two buddies of his. Now, all of this prologue isn’t to say that my life within my friends wasn’t comical, outrageous, or entertaining. Moving out of the nest to be with 3 other 20 year old dudes with raging hormones and a never ending motivation to look for booze, girls, and trouble just really….REALLY upped the ante.

My friends and I like to have fun. And we like to put ourselves in situations where the next day we think to ourselves “What. The. FUCK. Just. Happened?” On top of this, we are truly assholes. We make fun of just about everybody and we think are greater than anybody who crosses our paths (99% of the time we are. But I mean, hey, confidence is a virtue right?) We have the dirtiest minds, and even dirtier mouths.

I decided I would like share the hilarity of the dialogue I share with my roommates, our friends, and our acquaintances through actual spoken word (we have a quote board where we save our most controversial phrases), text messages, facebook wall posts/comments, and any other way we might communicate.

To kick this off the right way; here’s a quick back-story to the title of this blog. This has been long so I’ll make it short.

One boring evening, while creeping through some hot girls on facebook, my roommate WhiteRice was showing Sausage pictures of a particular girl. WhiteRice claimed that this particular girl wasn’t exactly photogenic, and she was better in real life. Sausage wasn’t buying it. In an effort to redeem his rating, WhiteRice explained that this girl was "nice."

Sausage replied “Nice usually means ugly”