As you all know in 17 short days I will be checking into the hospital to have a baby...
AAAAAAAHHHHHFHBKGYFGHBKJHUGTFXXHBLU BREATH IN BREATH OUT BREATH IN BREATH OUT
Sorry had to take a moment to fuuuuhreak out that I'm having a second child in 17 days. Any way I'm also participating in NABLOPOMO which means I'm supposed to post every day in November. Soooo since I don't know if I will have wi-fi in the hospital room I've decided to open my blog up to guest bloggers for exactly 3 days. How it works is I will add your email to my guests on here and you will be able to sign in and blog on here for one of the three days. So I'm holding a contest and if anyone actually participates then the top three winners will get to post. I hesitate to open this up to Ginger, Lisa or Katie, because if they were smart they would use their guest post to tell really embarrassing stories of me! But alas I open it up to all of you.
So now the contest. Please submit to me your favorite, or funniest drunken story. What I mean is, tell me about the time you fell face first in the street or down the stairs (Lisa), or danced naked, or got a tattoo, or got married, or called your ex boyfriend crying. Anything. I just want to hear the funniest, saddest or most pathetic thing you ever did while drunk. The people who make me laugh the hardest will win.
As for the guest post you can post anything. Think of my blog as your blog, only on my blog you can cuss and talk a lot about sex and shit. Sooo, this could actually be a whole new adventure for some of you more demure bloggers out there, getting the chance to cuss and shout wildly online!
Please leave your story in a comment on this post!
5 comments:
Ok so I have been thinking and thinking about this for like 5 hours now and I have come to the conclusion that I was SUCH an alcoholic that I can't actually REMEMBER any of my really REALLY drunken moments... Oohh hang on- ONE'S COMING TO MIND. K gonna email you.
oh man! i have some drunken moments i would love to share!
Ok, here's ONE of my most embarassing stories. It's much better in person with impersonations but oh-well.
I was at a frat party (this is where you go, FIGURES!) and this creepy dude was following me around in a not normal way and I LOST MY FRIENDS so I couldn't escape. In my inebriated state, I decided to RUN away. He followed me! SO I ran faster (only drunk running) and got my ass out of the house somehow. I turned on my turbo-boost running and next thing I know I can actually see my feet in front of me like I'm the road-runner or something. Sweet, right? Not so much. I cut through the St Mary's Catholic church parking lot near my house and trip over one of those parking divider curb things. In slow motion I skid face first to the ground and my head crashes into the parking divider curb thing paralell to the one I tripped on. There I lay (with Jesus laughing from above I'm sure). Don't know how long I was there bit my friends stumbled upon me later as they were walking home. I was this lump laying in the church parking lot. They figured out it was me and helped me up which is when I FREAKED OUT and ran home holding my head. I get home and anyone I encounter reacts with dropped jaw and OHMYGOD. I finally make it up to my room and see myself and FREAK OUT MORE b/c I have a tennis ball growing out of my temple. Holy crap! Everytime I look into a mirror I freak out. My friends call dial-a-nurse to figure out what to do with me and have to answer questions such as "is she bleeding out of the ears?" They decide to wait to take me to the ER b/c I have been drinking and am underage. When we get to the ER I am given meds for a concussion and they clean-up my scrapes. The next day was DADS WEEKEND! I woke up with a black eye and had to explain myself to my profs and my dad. I made sure to wear the hospital bracelet to school for sympathy and told them "I fell while jogging in the dark" and tried to get through class while on vicodin. Embarassing. My friends then seriously made me wear a helmet out for a while as punishment for having to take care of my stupid-ass. THE END
mmmmm, the stories to tell!
Katie
Ok, it took me a while to remember this one but this is pretty good.or at least it is a good memory. Even thought I think I am too late for the contest.
The summer after I graduated college I went to Australia for a month and traveled around by myself. About 3 weeks into my trip, I found myself staying at a hostel in tropical (i.e. jungle-like) part of northern Australia. There was nothing in walking distance of this hostel but it was the coolest place I stayed. It was just a bunch of cabins in the middle of this immense feeling jungle. Needless to say, there wasn’t much to do except drink. So I drank. And I found this Canadian guy to drink with that was traveling around with one of his buddies. Anyone who knows a Canadian knows that they know how to drink. So we started drinking at dinner one of the first nights I was there. At midnight they had a ‘midnight wildlife sighting tour through the jungle” since, apparently, ferocious jungle animals only come out at night. By this time we were about 1 ½ sheets to the wind (in other words we had been drinking pints since about 6 pm). So we head out into the jungle with our headlamps and our crazy little Australia back-country tour guide and a few other crazy idiots who decided to sign up for this tour as well. We are wandering through the jungle, with our headlamps, spotting large insects and lizards, when I excitedly pronounce “There’s a frog!” Because, well, I was a little drunk so I was super excited I was the first one to find something besides an insect the size of my arm or a lizard. Then the guide goes “well, that’s actually a cane toad.” For those of you who aren’t familiar with the wrath of the cane toad on Australia, I will just say they are not liked very well. Not at all. The eat everything, destroy everything and can’t be killed…well…are very hard to kill. So the guide goes into a little lecture about the cane toads and how bad they are and this lady, a women on the tour by herself but had her kids and husband back at the hostel, says “Can you kill it?” Turns out she was quite the environmentalist and a native Australian so her hatred towards the cane toad was extremely ardent. The conversation between the two of them proceeded as follows (to the best of my memory):
Guide: “Well, since I am technically working and being paid to give you a tour, I can’t legally kill it, although you can as a private citizen….”
Crazy Women (CW): “Really?”
Guide: “Yeah, I mean I would but I can’t in front of all of you.”
CW: “So I can kill it? I mean I can’t just let it go? We can just let it go” (looking to us innocent drunk people for validation to kill this poor cane toad…instead finding us all stunned, and a little scared, that we are in the middle of the jungle at midnight with 2 people that obviously have NO problem killing a poor evil cane toad.).
Guide: (this is where it really starts to get weird) “If you killed it that would be awesome (or some Australia slang that means the same thing).”
Their conversation goes back and forth for what seems like ages along these same lines. The CW finally decides she has to do it. The rest of us are so stunned we don’t even know what to do. The CW proceeds to pick up a large stick and beat the poor cane toad. The thing about cane toads, like I mentioned before, they do not go easily into the dark night. On a regular basis, people poison and run over (with their cars) cane toads and they do not die. Cane toads apparently have the ability to pretty much throw up their insides so they can be smooshed flat, then swallow them and hop on their merry way.
The CW keeps beating this poor toad. Over and over again. She FINALLY thinks it is dead and stops, only to have the toad start trying to hop away. So she picks up a rock and finishes the job. IT TOOK HER LIKE 5 MINUTES to kill this damn thing, all the while us poor innocent folks are just standing there freaked the shit out in the middle of the jungle.
So, after the massacre, the tour continues, all of us too stunned to even know what to do. We all just want to get the fuck out of there. Soon enough, we come across another cane toad. AND SHE DID IT AGAIN! All the while the tour guide is L-O-V-I-N-G IT! ABSOLUTELY LOVING IT.
We eventually finish the tour and go back to the hostel. The Canadian and I kept drinking long into the night (to drown the memory of the toad killings…or maybe because it was fun and we had nothing else to do). Around 4 am we started stumbling back to our respective cabins….we didn’t make far though…we ended up in the bathrooms making out in the shower stall (give me a break, it was the only place where we wouldn’t wake up any of our roommates).
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