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.