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I got so drunk on vodka once,I had to get my guardian angel to help drive me home.I could feel my angel tap me on the shoulder to alert me to open my eyes,dodge mail boxes,make it around the curves in the road,stop,turn get back up on the road.14 miles and not one other vehicle on the road that night and I made it safely home that night thanks to my Guardian Angel.That was about 40yrs ago and I never touched another drop of vodka after that.

Seems like yesterday but it weren't when I found myself in a nice hotel not far from TCU in Ft. Worth. I rode with a classmate a bit older, Green Beret w/ 2 tours under his hat. Bein' older than me he bought some rum and we started watching a pre-season football game; Dallas and Green Bay as I recall, not that I recall much. The first pint didn't even us get much past the first quarter, so he went to get another.

When he got back he found me out by the pool talking to complete strangers. They thought I was hilarious....all I was wearing was my BVDs. Hey, it was pool side and I didn't have a suit, alright?

I vaguely recall the shower rod and curtain failing miserably to support me when I was puking not long after. Sorta remember the beginning of the half time show.

I woke up face down on the carpet, hips and legs still in the bed. Epic night for my fist hangover?

I was in pain for two days after that and still can't stand the smell of rum.

I did similar things with Yukon Jack, when I was 18. Haven't touched it since.

Yukon Jack can be vile!

1972, my sister's best friend and near-twin (5'3" slender blonde) threw a coming-home party after sis's 1st year at college.
After the first fifth of tequila, Diane went to the potty, but didn't return. After the second fifth of tequila (both Cuervo), I had to go potty, in spite of my knowing better. I went by her (passed out on her parent's bed), did the drainage thing, and returned to the bar.
The next day, I apologized to 3 buddies and bought a new convertible top for a '68 Galaxie.
Seems they decided I needed to go home - but I was "recalcitrant"
I don't remember drinking 2 shots of tequila since.

Got drunk on beer once when a wee bit older than the previous tale. At the Warrant Officer Candidate Club at Ft Hunter. Came time to heave and the bathroom was full up so I went out the front door. There was a roundabout right in front of the club, Old Glory waving in the breeze amidst a lot of flood lights.

So I bent over and blew beer all over the grass. As I stood up a staff car rolled by with one of those little red flags on the front bumper. With 2 white stars. That was probably was of the sharpest salutes I ever rendered.

I don't like beer very much either.

At super dirt Week in Syracuse, NY. Tried to sleep on someones Vette. Ended up sleeping by the campfire. Burned a hole thru my jeans but didn't burn thru the long johns to my knee. (Lucky) coudn't get out of the bunk till day after. Trash can punch has always been my weakness!

No, not can be. It is Vile garbage. Not fit for human consumption.

my brother got plastered on a deer hunt. night out at the bar, and got back late. I was trying to sleep so I would be on stand before daylight.
he made a nuance of himself, made threats, since I would not get up and drink with him. It got violent when the guns came out, and I thought I might have to shoot him.
I tied him up, threw a blanket over his worthless ass, and went back to bed. I left the hunt a day early, and didn't talk to him for a year.
I outfit 4-6 of the guys that show up for the hunt. I made it clear, another stunt like that, and I would never return. (great fun (sarcasm))
I will have a drink once in a while, but never to excess. and never if I need to drive.
lost my grandfather to a drunk driver, and two other relatives dead and one in a chair with no working legs (drunk crossed the grass median of a divided road.)

I think I will pass on one for the road....

Lome, Togo, New Year's Eve 1982.

Ghana after the coups and attempted counter-coups was economically in the dregs at that time. Someone stole my bucket and my entire monthly Peace Corps salary in Ghanaian Cedis couldn't buy me a new one, it was practically a barter situation.

As a result of this, all us Ghana Volunteers had to go across the border to Lome, Togo four times a year to get paid in real money AKA in that time and place CFA (African French Francs). Lome was a French tourist resort on the coast and we were supposed to use that $400 to buy essentials we needed for life back in Ghana.

Natch, that didn't happen , the record for blowing the whole thing and having NOTHING to show for it but a tremendous hangover was four days, used to take most of us about a week.

Downtown, by the dusty town square was the Jardin des Plants Bar AKA the Jungle Bar because of the dense vegetation out front. Ever seen the bar from Star Wars? It was like that, EVERYBODY and their brother drank there; assorted ex-Pats from all over the world, Africans from all over Africa, and Peace Corps Volunteers.

These were the Bob Marley years and big speakers out front blasted reggae down the street, and in front besides tall plants the whole bar was fronted with cages containing wild birds, for sale, some for eating and some for witchcraft.

New Years '82, typical long and dusty day and a half getting there from my village on crowded, beat-up transports. Cross the border into Lome and it was like the Promised Land. We was rich! Toss away your old shirt and buy a new one, stop by the lepers begging en route and make their whole friggin' day (we was just gonna drink that money anyhow).

Pay the money for a nice hotel or sleep in a cheap dive about like in your village, no matter.

So that first evening I go to the Jungle Bar, New Years Eve... and I see out front a Barn Owl, hunched miserably in its cage. No one eats an owl, but I believe they were potent witchcraft symbols.

The evening is going by and we are getting drunk on warm African bottled beers (actually pretty good, they employ European brewmiesters) and I'm feeling worse and worse about that doomed owl out front. A bird that can hear a mouse tinkle at 100 meters caged next to blasting amps cranking out reggae.

Finally I stand up and announce to the table that I am going to free the owl. I find the proprietor who is more than happy to sell the owl at whatever the drunk White guy price was (I have no idea how much it cost me that night, I barely remembered paying for it).

I go out front, most of the bar comes with me, wanting to see me free the owl. Drunk as I was, I just reached in and grabbed it, one hand on either side over a wing against its body, talons dangling free. The owl did not resist or struggle.

So I walk down the street into the dark and empty town square, my friends and other bar patrons form a half circle around me...

Holding the owl low in front of me I called out "BEEEE FREEEEEEE!" and threw it up into the air with all my might.....





The owl spread its wings. Well it would have spread its wings but all it had was these little arms because someone had pulled all its wing feathers out. It flapped them madly as it tumbled end over end in an arc about like a football. It hit the ground and bounced.

We all got quiet, they all filed back into the bar, I picked up the owl and carried down to the nearby beach and set it down amid the palm trees.

Most likely the beggars would find it in the morning and eat it or sell it, but at least I figured it would have a night of quiet.

Then I went back to the bar.

Birdwatcher

Had the dry heaves for 8 hours straight, my diaphragm ached for 4 days. I didn't drink again................. til the following WE.

Guys sitting in a joint drinking lots of beer when one of em has to go to the crapper. Gone quite a while and then let out a warwhoop. Pretty soon another on. Third time bar tender decided to see what's going on. Finds the drunk sitting on a mop bucket. What's a matter with you, asks bar keep. Well, I took a crap and now every time I try to flush the stool it grabs me by the balls.

Can't stop laughing.

Long ago at a dormitory party I tangled with a large quantity of Bacardi 151, mixing it with Pepsi if I recall correctly. It was a loooong time before I could once again stand the smell of rum, and even longer before I could consume it.

Ivan, that one knocked me over laughing! I am on my way to Tonto Basin and I am taking that one with me. I will credit you with the joke, for those that didn't see it here. We will miss you this year, friend.

Came to my senses one night and found myself doing 110mph down the hiway. Luckily it was on a straight shot. If it wasn't 110 then it was as fast as that half ton ford could go.

God was sitting beside me that night.

Tried it again when I was sober and it scared the crap out of me.

Speaking of Guardian Angels....

Twelve years on nothing but motorcycles and something like this only happened once....

Late at night, leaving a bar, I'm so far gone I'm just following my buddy's taillight.

Suddenly the whole night lights up in the ol' familiar red and blues. <OH F$$K!!!>....

My mirrors and the night are all brightly flashing red and blue, but maybe not so much for my buddy who is on a straight-pipe Harley, wearing shades, no mirrors. I begin to slow down. The Cop pulls alongside me in the left lane and flips his siren once, to get my friend's attention.

Just then a side street appears going right and I took it, into a residential area.... a left and a right and a left and a right..... blackout.....

Dunno what happened next but the next thing I remember I was on the original highway heading in the opposite direction and not having any idea how I got there.

Rode home super careful as drunks do.... ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease..... blackout again....

Next thing I know I'm riding down the rough dirt track that led to the property I was living on, the bumping brung me around.

Got home, ran inside the shack where I was living and threw the covers over my head.

Safe.

Woke up in the surf, under a pier at Nags Head one fine morning, and some kids were poking me with sticks to see if I was still alive.

Bacardi 151 was the culprit.

I remember our first annual Joaquin Bacardi celebratory wake back in 1987 ish?

We saw on the news where the old guy passed and threw one hell of a party.

Forever changed the drinking laws on campus with the "large common source" clause.

I was toasted before dinner, and ended up inviting our dorm coordinator to the party, which my buddies said was a bad idea.

We figured the only way to make it so she wouldn't run us up the flagpole was to make her night full of embarrassing moments that she would desire to keep low.

I told them to leave her to me.

Didn't work though. Woman had no shame, but it was fun....

Sophomore in college, fraternity rush party.

I won a drinking game involving chugging hard liquor out of a bottle. Pretty sure I won, I just vaguely recall chugging from the bottle with people chanting "drink! drink! drink! drink!".... don't recall how it ended.

Four or five friends from my dorm literally carried me home.

As a young man I drank myself to unconsciousness many times in my life, that was the first time I actually felt poisoned the next day. IIRC took me a couple of days to fully recover.

Almost the closest I ever came to killing myself with alcohol.