The Time Traveler's Life

As I have confessed previously I do not drink much. I am told, however, that you can drink so much that you "black out" and are doing active things with zero awareness of what you are doing.

FOCUS: tell your best or funniest story about what you have done while blacked out. Did you have someone fill you in or did you piece together the details from evidence, Hangover style?

 

In college, a friend shared his ADD medication with me while I was already drunk. I completely blacked out and was told I came back to my apartment, started babbling incoherently about sleeping with the guy who gave me his meds, walked back to my bedroom and came back into the living room with my boob hanging out, then when my roommate put my boob back into my shirt and led me back to bed, I sat in bed and babbled incoherently for another two hours before falling asleep. If you have ever gone cold turkey getting off ADD meds, you know how the next day went.

 

It was New Years eve 2004, I was in my kitchen frying bacon and was wearing one of those hats with the corks dangling from it, just like the Australians supposedly wear. I am dressed, ready to go to my friends NYE party, when I slowly realise that something isn't quite right.
Why are my clothes dirty? Why am I unsteady on my feet? Why can't I remember anything else leading up to this moment? Why the fuck is my my hair all matted and smells like a dead hobo?

Fuck.
It's New Years Day. I have already been to the party.

Over the course of the next few weeks I managed to piece together what happened. We all started playing drinking games, one of them being 'Roxanne' or as I like to call it 'another reason to hate Sting'. The game is easy, every time Sting sings Roxanne you gotta take a gulp of your drink. Easy right?, well fuck you, he says it a lot in that song. Seriously go count. The second rookie mistake I made was forgoing beer and drinking spirits... The third mistake? playing the game again 10 minutes later.
I drank about half a litre of spirits in an hour. I was 140 pounds soaking wet at the time. This was not going to end well.

Apparently I was still quite lucid and coherent throughout the night until I got taken home, just that my legs refused to function, though the lowlights include

going outside to take a piss, and not being seen for half an hour, to be found lying in a bush laughing manically.

once again having to take a piss but this time being held up by my friends to facilitate this.

Communicating only by swearing, then laughing. For hours.

If I didn't deem swearing sufficient, I would throw whatever was closest to me (including attempting to throw a ps2), then laugh manically.

The worst however? I was not alone in being stupid enough to play Roxanne twice, Eric also joined me in this foolhardy endeavour and fared much worse than me, falling off his seat and vomiting all over the floor. I found this HILARIOUS and laughed so much I fell off my seat INTO HIS SICK. I was so drunk I was unable to get my self up, all I could manage was stretching a hand out in the vain hope someone would rescue me. Apparently this happened more than once.

Eventually I got taken home where I made bacon and some how didn't burn the place down.

So all in all, a mixed night. As much as I am ashamed of it I am proud that I didn't throw up myself, even when I was covered in someone else's vomit. But on the other hand, I was covered in some one else's vomit.

Needless to say, since that night I have never been able to listen to Sting without feeling queasy.

And I still don't know where that hat came from.

 

This was one of the first times I had ever really got on it. I was staying at my Grandmothers house when i was 18 just before I came back to Aus to work for my Dad and I had caught up with a buddy from school. We then went out watched a movie and went back to his place to drink with the housemates.

Playing kings with a 12 dollar bottle of Kentucky gold bourban was not the best or greatest thing I have ever done. First game was finished, I sat out the second then this is what I peiced together over time.

After the second game we were standing in the kitchen talking and apparently I've yelled out "You can't catch me" and ran off down the street laughing.

Climbed the 2m fence into the local sports stadium and fell off onto the grass. Climbed back up and fell off onto the concrete. This explains the bruised ribs I had the next morning.

I have a vague recollection of arguing with someone I thought might be police saying "I just need to walk about and get some fresh air" the whole time thinking I'm going to run away. They were a lot smarter than i was. Apprently they had picked me up breaking into the local school. I was asked my name to which I couldn't give a spell or even give a response. I was then told either give them an address or I spend the night in lockout.

On the way back to my Grans I filled the back of the piggy wagon with puke and then spent the next few hours unconscious on the front lawn in the recovery position. Woke up the next morning half clothed stinking to high heaven, not a care in the world while missing one shoe and one sock while the other half of the set was soaking wet for some unknown reason.

Everyone except my Gran thought it was hilarious and I still don't drink bourban, whiskey or scotch except in shots.

 

I went swimming in a pond alone at least twice, and slept in a hot tub.

 

My friend (and at the time, roommate) was DD, I blacked out at the party and apparently on the walk back to the car (about a mile) I was trying to fight him, spit on him several times and shit talked him for no reason for a good 5 minutes. All of a sudden I stop walking, sprint into a random house and run up the stairs. My friend bolts in after me to find me standing in a bedroom demanding the person in the bed to get out so I can go to sleep. The bed's occupant is a very large and angry black man that plays on the University's football team. Right before he gets up to murder me, my friend comes in, apologizes and hustles me out of there.

I continue to shit talk and spit on my friend until we get to his car. As soon as I get in the passenger seat I pass out and piss myself (and his car seat). We get home and he helps me get upstairs to our room where I again pass out and piss myself (and my bed).

And no, he was not pleased, but yes, we are still very good friends.

Anyone want to be my DD tonight?

 

I stumbled my way through 6 years college and didn't get my degree. I actually only remember about 80 hours of those 6 years.

 

The first time I blacked out was on the night I lost my virginity. What I remember from that night: instigating two fights, both of which were due to my hitting on guys' girlfriends, convincing a girl to make out with me while I was lying in a hallway too drunk to stand, later fucking that girl). There are several hours missing from that night and I never found out everything that happened—what I do know is none of the 20 or so people from that party ever talked to me again. I was completely ousted from that social circle and I have no idea what I did. They refused to believe me when I said I couldn't remember what I did (they assumed I was just trying to deny responsibility) and wouldn't tell me.

I also had a girlfriend who would take sleeping pills before going to bed. The pills would cause her to forget most of what she said after she took them, and also had a strange effect where she would talk about very personal things with me (I think it made her feel more trusting and lowered her inhibitions). It was kind of heart-wrenching that she had no recollection of our most intimate conversations. I also found myself doubting the sincerity of those drug-addled conversations—overall it messed with my head a lot and compounded the general confusion that surrounded that relationship.

 

The first blackout I ever had was in high school. As was the custom then because nobody had their own place, and often parents didn't just leave for weekends or let their kids have parties, we had a park party. This consists of calling half the school and saying that we will meet at a certain park up in the hills, hopefully somewhat hidden so police don't come, though they prettymuch always made it there eventually. This particular evening I had told my parents I would be sleeping at a friend's house, though he was not with me I figured that he would corroborate my story. So there I am having a great time playing smack the bag: a game similar to a keg stand, but with a bag of wine, when I black out, next thing I know I'm in my bed and no idea how I got there.

My dad was the one who filled me in...

After police came, I decided I would run away because running was the escape route. However I got lost, called some people to come pick me up (from pay phones because I didn't have a cell in those days) and waited. One of the people I called was my buddy's house, waking up his mom, talking to his mom, who then called my dad. By the time my dad was awoken, around 3 am, I had found my way home and was stumbling up the stairs with the help of two college girls who took pity on me. It was at this time that my dad made me write apology letters, one to him, one to my friend's mom. I wasn't allowed to go to bed until I wrote sincere, thoughtful, and legible letters. After an hour or so he gave up, my handwriting is normally cryptic, but while drunk it looks like chicken scratch.

My dad did take some pity though, because I was vomiting all morning and couldn't keep food down for the rest of the day, he viewed it as punishment enough, though I did have to rewrite the letters.

 

I black out pretty easily, which is probably not a good thing. If I'm at the point where I consider myself drunk, there's usually a few things missing from my recollection of the night the next day where my friends fill me in and we have a giggle. I haven't had too many crazy stories happen from it, but the funniest moment was when I was drunkenly hooking up with this guy and he put it in and the following conversation ensued:

Me: "Wait, you need to wear a condom."
Him: "...I am wearing a condom."
Me: "Haha, nice try."
Him: "No, really, I am."

And he pulls out to show me that he is, indeed, wearing a condom. Then I completely blacked out again and the next thing I know is I'm watching him get dressed and he's saying:

"See? I told you I was a rapper."

They were just really great lines to bookend my memory of having sex. Also, that means that he was rapping while he was getting dressed after boning? PS. He was white.

WOW. I know how to pick 'em.

That whole night was full of funny lines, but I'll save those for another story.

 

Ah, the night I decided to stop drinking on a regular basis. Halloween 2008. Started with chugging Jack with a drop of soda water then lots and lots of Budweiser. I wake up to my friend kicking me in the legs so he can get to the toilet. I'm in the host's bathroom, on the floor. The last thing I remember was a game of beer pong. Then everything's black. This was 4 hours prior. No idea what happened. Apparently I had tackled the host's good friend 3 times and he threatened to kick the shit out of me; I walked around with my balls out (did I mention I was dressed like a nun?), and dipped my balls in a beer pong cup before stumbling to the bathroom from where I never came out. Everyone was amazed at how big my balls are. The Aristocrats!

 

I've blacked out more times than I can remember. This account of it was one of the more memorable ones-

My high school was pretty lame, so lame we had a five year reunion. The only reason I decided to go was so I could show everyone how much better I was than them, since I had a high paying job, and most everyone else was still in college or working for a low wage.

I arrive at the party and quickly get bored, so I decide to make it more interesting by drinking a liter of Makers Mark as fast as possible. The last thing I really remembered was a band setting up. I woke up the next morning outside under a friends picnic table to his father was poking me with a stick to make sure I was alive. I didn't think anything of it until the next day (I know, this is probably a sign of alcoholism that I didn't care to get the full story) when I realize I have been defriended on facebook by a girl I went to highschool with and her husband. So I decided to ask around to see what went down. One of my friends was cool enough to make a video of it with his cellular telephone.

In this video it showed the band inviting me up on stage to sing a song because they knew I was big on 80s hair metal. The song was a poison cover. Anyway, I invited her husband on stage to sing with me. During the guitar solo I interjected a tiny bit of bit spoken word.

"Ryan is the luckiest guy I know. He gets to fuck sarah in the ass whenever he wants, because he's married to her. One of my favorite high school memories was pleasuring myself while thinking about doing the same thing to her. In fact I'm not even sure why he is here, he should be at home doing that right now!"

At this point he drew back to punch me. Luckily I was so drunk I fell over before he could connect. Someone then threw me in a car and dropped me off at a safe place. This happened to be my friend's house, where I apparently slept outside, under a picnic table.

I'm really looking forward to the ten year reunion!

 

I used to black out nearly every weekend. On multiple occasions, my roommate and I ended up back at our apartment and I'd wake up the next day asking how the hell we got home. He'd inform me that I drove. I'd ask him why he let me drive, and he'd say that he really didn't remember much other than the fact that I was driving.

So I'd call my friends and ask them why they let me drive if I was so drunk and they'd tell me the same thing nearly everytime--"Dude, you were better than any of us. You were helping people who were too drunk and cooking us chicken. Don't you remember?"

Apparently, and I have no explanation for this, I'd black out before I was really too far gone and generally be ok. I'd cook for people sometimes, help them get into bed, and clean up their place without any memory of it whatsoever--like a zombie Martha Stuart or something. Then I'd take a complex combination of backroads back to my apartment and go to sleep.

That's not to say that I haven't had those blackout moments where I wake up in a beanbag chair wearing a girl's bikini top with a mini fridge open and tipped over next to me, icebox defrosting on the carpet of my basement, with Sesame Street on mute on the television and my dog licking something that's stuck to the sofa. But most times, my blackouts were incredibly constructive and safe.

 

Not sure "safe" is the right word there.

 

I suppose that safe isn't the best word. I probably just should've said that I never found tattered and blood-soaked clothes or a mangled bicycle hanging from the under carriage of my car, so I did a decent job getting home. I'm certinaly not condoning the drunk driving at all, and I think it was really stupid.

 

I feel like I have matured, at least a little. I used to get black out every weekend when I was single and living with my good friends.

Some of the black out stories were entertaining like walking through the drive-through at Wendy's and speaking elementary level spanish to the worker at the window or calling a girl "Wisconsin Dells" all night because it was waaaay better of a city than "Madison."

Although some of my black out stories have been pretty embarrassing. The worst was when I started drinking heavily before my friend's wedding reception started, got kicked out of the adjacent wedding reception for taking drinks from the open bar, and grinding on the bride during the FIRST dance as man and wife.

Thank God the couple is awesome and took it in stride. I hear there is a video out there somewhere, but I would rather not even see it...I heard the wife's grandmother was crying...

 

I used to get really annoyed at people's blackout stories. In high school the morning after every big party I was subjected to treacherous stories that began with " all I remember" I noticed some of the braggarts used that phrase enough times that they basically described their whole night. Then I met my best friend/ brother -in-law.

He was a three times a month blackout type guy and I know he wasn't lying. My favorite story is summed up by a series of text messages:

FRIEND- hey I ended up going home and banging that girl last night (I think) can you come get me, I'm dirty, embarrassed and have to take a monster deuce

Mike Ness- sure buddy, where are you?? I'll leave now

FRIENDYOU MEAN YOU DON"T KNOW??? I thought I was with you at the end of last night, I have no clue where I am

Mike Ness Either wake her up, or go outside and look at some street signs

FRIENDok but just in case text me this ladies name

It went on a little bit more like that. Turns out he was in center city Philadelphia (we live in the philly burbs) staying in some cougars penthouse. I picked him up on the corner wearing no sneakers.

 

As much I've drunk (dranked? drinked, drunken?) over the years, I almost never black out, or forget what happened the night before. Which is often a curse rather than a blessing. At least as far as I know - case in point:

I had party at a condo I shared with a few other guys. One of my good buddies arrived early, and we stood in the kitchen drinking as others arrived. A couple walked in early on, and both my buddy and I were mesmerized by the woman, who had arrived with someone we didn't know. She was a gorgeous raven haired beauty. Dark eyes, incredible body wrapped in tight jeans and cashmere sweater - easily one of the most beautiful women I had seen up to that point. She handed her coat to one of the other guys, turned and saw us looking at her . . .

and gave me a smile that could outshine the sun. She made a beeline for me that seemed to be in slow motion; I looked over at my friend and he was looking from me, to her, and back to me with his jaw on the floor. She walked up to me, gave me a big hug, and started talking like we were old friends.

It became obvious after a few minutes that I had no idea who she was, and she called me on it. She then told me how she had been at the condo a couple of weeks before, and we all drank a lot of beer, I made a big pot of spaghetti, we all had dinner and had a grand old time . . .of which I remembered exactly nothing.

Postscript: Apparently she found blackout drunks attractive and gave me her phone number, which enraged the guy she had come with.

 

This is the story of how i managed to black out twice in one night.

I was at a friend's 21st and everyone was pretty tame, only having brought a 6 pack, apart from me and my 3 mates. We had each brought a bottle of spirits and did not plan on saving any.

We had only been there a few hours and i finished my bottle and was slurring my speech pretty bad. A group of girls were all standing around this fishbowl full of some blue vodka concoction and taking photos of each other with it. One of my friends shouted to me that i should drink the whole thing (we estimated at about 3 litres).

I'm an idiot. I reach into the middle of the group and take it and chug the whole thing. At about halfway my stomach is hurting really bad from the sheer amount of liquid i am trying to ingest. I finished it to the cheers of the crowd and then walk out to the garden and vomited a little bit out, but managed to hold the rest down.

BLANK

I am in the entertainment precinct dancing like a retard to this band busking. I realize i shouldn't be here. I reach into my pocket to find my phone. Not there. Must be with my friends.

I head to the regular bar we frequent and there is one friend there who is extremely happy to see me. Apparently i had got out of the cab from the party and ran away laughing like a maniac. He and i decide shots are in order.

BLANK

Wake up at home to my mum knocking on my door. She's been worried sick. I can't understand what is going on so she explains that a church 2 suburbs away from the entertainment precinct had found my phone in their carpark. They called her and she had no idea where i was but kept her cool enough to check my place.

My friends were only able to give me a small amount of info and i spent a lot of my time blacked out by myself.
BLANK # 1:
Caught a cab and thought it was fun to keep flicking my friend in the head. He lost his temper and him and i threw a few punches. I laughed the whole time, thinking it was a game. He went home because i "ruined his night". Ran away from the cab. Nobody knows what i did until i my memory kicks back in. 2 hour gap.

BLANK # 2:
Made out with some girl at the bar. Her boyfriend grabbed me by the collar. I punched him in the jaw. Bouncers carried me out and thew me to the ground. Somehow got home.