What, I leave for a while and everyone stops drinking? I'll share my birthday adventure (which I also posted at SPO in the interest of full disclosure) to bring this drunk thread back to its proper standing.
The night was June 26, and this year for my birthday party I played with Poop Attack, The Them and Rain City Shwillers (reunion show). Perfect way to get lots of friends out cuz I'm friends with the folks in all those bands and we share many fans and friends. I pulled on my sleaziest white patent leather loafers and prepared myself for trouble. My bandmates presented me with an inflatable sex donkey on stage to celebrate the occasion. I was a pretty good boy until after our set, when everyone started buying me shots... and I took 'em. Apparently I put down a lot of shots, many in quick succession. Last thing I kind of remember is being called on stage to sing along on a misfits song though I don't remember singing. Apparently I still remembered the words. I guess when I left the Funhouse I face-planted on the sidewalk trying to get into a cab.
Next morning I wake up frozen in time. I'd passed out sitting up on the couch at a gal's house. After at least 3 face-plants earlier, I'd apparently ripped the towel bar off her wall trying to steady myself while I pissed and knocked her coffee table upside-down trying to get back to the couch. My face was all cut up, my elbows and knees destroyed, cuts on my head, etc. Came outside to the inflatable sex donkey I'd apparently bitten in the face and it was tied to an electric pole. I'd lost the entire sole to my left shoe, my nose was twice its size and I had blood all down my shirt. Got breakfast at Mecca (+ 6 mimosas and a few beers) and made a new friend who sent me a topless photo and gave me a satanic bible. After some afternoon delight, I headed out to find a bus. With blood all over my clothes, cuts on my face, a shirt that says "Hello My Name Is: AWESOME!" on, a satanic bible in hand and one leg limping due to a missing shoe soul, I looked like a retarded zombie. I laughed out loud at how I must look to people while they stared on in horror. Paid the bus fee and a "HEEEE HAWWWW!" emitted from the sex donkey's voicebox which I'd apparently put in my pocket the night before.
Oh and last night I started off at 6:00pm joining my buddy for free drinks in the lobby of his hotel. Back at my place we killed a bottle of wine. Off to the bars for some karaoke action, the last thing I remember is singing "I was made for loving you" in my gayest falsetto possible. Dropped a good bit of money tying that knot tighter at the bar. Now it's 8pm and I'm still sitting in my underwear drinking water before I head to the 2-Bit.
And I'm ghost... Later.
