Blackout: the beginning.
I really wish this story arc wasn’t based on past experience. This is why I now, even when at a party where I want to get hammered (forehead gesture*), stick to beer and no more than two shots, for a ten hour period. Hard alcohol is not my friend. When I drink hard booze in large amounts, I do silly shit like punch people in the face, pick verbal fights with cops, and kiss mules.
But yeah. Who hasn’t had this morning? Hands in the air? Hm. You, in the back: you’re 22. Give it time.
For the record: Although I have at least 4 beers a night, and considerably more on the weekends, I never shoot unless I’m sober. I don’t even have a beer until after I’ve cleaned my guns, on a shooting day. Do not shoot drunk. Your accuracy will suffer, and you may die.
*Forehead gesture is an inside joke from some friends who went with us on a cruise a few years back. Don’t ask.
Only hit blackout once and it did not result in me having possibly slept with a hot chick.
Instead it resulted in me vomiting in my friend’s lap (who was ultimately responsible for the caliber of drunk I was, he was lying about the drinks being made) and my use of the phrase “I’m too drunk to IRC”.
Ah, to be 20 again… 😉
Been there, done that. Still, (many years later,) have no idea if I did or didn’t, and she never would say for certain…
Never picked fights with cops as a result of being drunk; that usually happens as a result of being sober. Mostly, (when I’m THAT drunk) I just tell people what I REALLY think, and laugh at their stupidity.
Oh yeah. Back when I was a cook in an Eye-talian restaurant that was 1 block from my apartment and the restaurant owner was very generous with the bar after hellish nights. More than one blackout on my tab. Fortunately(?), I always woke up alone.
“Do not shoot drunk.” Words to live by and thereby live.
only ever blackout drunk once… i dont remember getting home – someone drove me. problem was – noone knew who this person was. according to me, i knew them well. just well enough to be strangers to the rest of my closet friends.
oh yes there was some mocking involved there. found out 3 months later it was a family friend. thank god. still get teased about it every now and again. damn having your best friend the bouncer at your local 😛
Its when ya come to next to a 300 pound bearded women that ya need to worry. Never again.
Have done the blackout drunk thing a couple of times; once because I was ill and it made my alcohol tolerance drop to about a fifth of normal. The other time: well, it made me come up with a personal rule; never drink an absinthe cocktail that you have not mixed yourself.
I had to spend most of the next week begging people to tell me what I’d done, and then apologising to them. Still don’t remember how I got home.
My first blackout was my 18th birthday. Gym dance at UVA, end of the first week of school. Last thing I remember, at the end(ish) of the evening, was “We have to empty these kegs, the beer is now free!”.
I would say to Mick, “Well, if you were THAT drunk, you probably couldn’t get it up.”
@Dex: valid point, the phrase “Whiskey Dick” is not an off the cuff one.
Alex is probably having a little fun with Mick and the holes in his memory, strictly in harmless way. Can’t imagine someone whose been much further down the Rabbit Hole than Mick and is still actively working on staying out of it doing anything else besides making sure someone in his ambulatory state gets home safe and makes it to the morning.
Sorry, helplessly optimistic about the core of the Human Spirit, events in Boston area this week notwithstanding.
Only twice, once at 16 and once at 18. I’ll pass ever again. And if I’m going to end up in bed with a hot chick with a mohawk, I’d prefer to remember it.
Regarding the video his first mistake was picking Southern Comfort for his ten shots. That stuff is way to crappy to hit that fast.
I’ve never hit blackout, myself. Worst I’ve done is pass out in a phone booth in Amberg, Germany walking home from the bar when I was in the army. Wouldn’t have been too bad, except it was winter, and while I was passed out, 2 feet of snow fell. German phone booths are heated, btw. The door on them also opens out, which forced me to call the polezi to come dig me out.
I’ll admit, I laughed at that sir. Good thing that phone booth was heated, eh?
Well, we germans overcomplify (this is a word I tell you) everithing, so why not phone booths? Alles wird geheizt!
Got blackout drunk once. Woke up, looked over and thought “if I chew my arm off I might be able to get out of bed without waking it up”. Had the inevitable awkward morning and left as quickly as possible. Walked outside and called my roommate to give me a lift, when he asked where I was I looked around and realized I had no clue. Had to find someone to ask, turned out I was in Casper, WY. (I lived, and had started the night, in Denver, CO) Still have no idea what happened between…
*HANDS IN THE AIR*
*chortling*
…
Oh shit. Wait.
*lowers hands*
The very first time I got drunk at all. I don’t remember everything, don’t remember how or why exactly I was brought home in different clothes thatn I wore to the party, and
got told all that week that I was “the life of the party”..
shit.
No hangover, though.
That really is the only time. I’d nearly forgotten. 1972.
I’ve only ever been drunk enough to black out once; it taught me not to go to drinking parties with people who bore me. Fortunately I was already safely home before I hit the blacking out part, so the only things I have to “regret” forgetting were puking all over my bedlinens in the middle of the night, waking up my father when I showered the puke off, and then going back to bed again without changing the linens! *shudder* I threw them out when I woke up again the next day. Pity; I liked that sheet set…
Nope, never blacked out. Not from drinking, anyway.
Dehydration, a raging fever and the most hellacious flu ever, yes. So I do know the joy of waking up on the linoleum with your glasses broken and a welt where you hit the counter on the way down.
I’m in my forties now and don’t see it happening in the future, either. Barring another case of the flu.
Also, ob-video Sunday Morning After for hillbillycavewoman. ;>
Blackout drunk was standard fare for me, the first three drinks (almost always strong bourbon & coke) always had me inviting their friends. I _can_ drink in moderation, but then I usually just feel sick rather than fun. Now days I mostly stick to lemonade.
Does a blackout bong hit count? (It was my first time).
And I’ve never noticed that AK poster above the bed before.
I, regretfully, have never been blackout drunk. I say “regretfully” because I’ve absolutely been drunk enough to be an utter and total idiot, but I’d then remember every embarrassing detail the following morning. (…and have spent the 10-20 years since trying to forget them.)
Having had BOTH situations, I’m here to tell you:
It’s always better to REMEMBER than to NOT. Because NOTHING, and I do mean NOTHING is as disconcerting as finding out you acted like a complete asshole/monster/shithead, in public, to people you care about, and having zero recollection of it – the next day, when people start describing it, it’s like getting dropkicked off a cliff.
Fair enough.
I drink alcohol socially, but I’ve never gotten so drunk I didn’t remember what I did the next day. From what I can tell, I don’t think I’m any poorer for not having had the experience.
Since 2003, I’ve only gotten Black Out Drunk 2 times…go figure both times were the Work Xmas Parties… Havn’t woken up in bed with someone other than my wife though.
I Stopped Drinking my Top Shelf Long Islands though…and stopped getting the black outs.
Chambord, Bombay, Baccardi, Jameson, Stoli, Jose 1800 (no cola or triple sec)…..
I spent four years in Belgium according to most reports, but I can only account for two with any sort of clarity.
I only speak fluent Spanish when drunk. Unfortunately, it is fluent gutter Spanish. Fortunately, I had friends present to explain the drunk gringa was batshit crazy and the friendly Madrilenos wanted no part of that mess.
Oh God, been here a couple of times.
Being Scottish (with a side helping of Irish blood) means that, stereotypically, I am/was a hard drinker (I tend not to drink much regularly nowadays, but as a measure of degree of tolerance, a bottle of Absinthe or Rum still has little noticeable effect.)
I stopped drinking to the point of blackout just over a decade ago now after I awoke one morning (afternoon, actually), fairly sore, with the empty packaging of enough takeaway food to feed at least three people..my last memories of the previous evening were talking to a couple of rather interesting female students…and after that..blackness.
Never again!
I can’t be the only one who was thinking “MANA-MANA”