Thursday Night Diary: Kinda Weird Edition

So I decided to attempt to do a diary of last Thursday night.  This is the result, with annotations to try to explain what the hell actually happened.  I apologize for the short length of the entries from that night, but typing about what your doing on a cellphone while you’re out drinking for your blog seems progressively dumber by the minute while it’s happening.  Hence the annotations.

6:42 pm: Standard pregame of Nazi Zombies, absinthe and beer.  Family size box of mac and cheese not sitting well.

So I brought back a bottle of absinthe from Italy like every American college kid to visit Europe ever, and decided since last week was one of the last Thursdays in college for a lot of my friends, we might as well go out with a bang.  Throw in some beers and some Nazi Zombies, and suddenly you’re having yourself a real nice little night.  Who knows, maybe we’ll even hang out with some girls tonight?  As for the family size box of mac and cheese, I have no excuse for that.  

11:15 pm:  Been playing Nazi Zombies and drinking for over four hours.  Shit.  Signs are pointing towards a terrible night.

Probably the last entry here where I am coherent and rational.  Notice the lack of girls?  I don’t, because I’m on level 14 on Kino der Toten with a raygun and I’m fucking shit up.  Love how I thought it was important enough to mention how long we had been drinking too.  Hey joeymowa, you’re the man!  Awful.

12:35 am:  Abstinithe and nat ice had affect(sic).  Blibk 182 songs mad emmo.  Drink a lot.

So this is about the zenith of the night.  Or the nadir.  Could easily go either way.  To clear this up too, this is the point where Blink 182 started to get played heavily, and I felt it necessary to point them out as mad emo.  I just hope it wasn’t something like “Adams Song” blasting.  Could you imagine a lamer pregame?  All guys listening to songs about suicide.   This wasn’t in Old School or Van Wilder!  College is such a scam.

1:31 am:  Might fight asian drubk.

This is where the night starts to get really pathetic.  RJ Bentley’s Filling Station has been accessed,but alas, an Asian gentleman that had previously fought one of my friends somehow at the same bar as us.  What are the odds!  (editors note:  1-2)  So, adhering to traditional male drunk behavioral patterns, my friends and I immediately stop having fun and try to act tough and Jean-Claude Van Damme-ish.  But we are also cowards who don’t want to risk getting in trouble or thrown out of our favorite bar, so for now, peace is still upon us.  

2:13 am:  Its so frunk here holy tits.  Gotta drink more for freedom.  711 will set us free.

I have to assume here that frunk meant drunk, but then I just look like a bigger douche.  Of course it is going to be drunk inside of Bentleys at 2am on Thursday.  No, I’m sure at that point in the night everyone has had their glass and a half of wine and are cordially retiring back to their parlors to doze off while reading some Chaucer by fireside.  But the second part of this is too true.  All you have to do is drink enough until you reach the point of never wanting to taste booze again, and then you feel you have earned the right to go to 711 and crush cheese curls and a massive Arizona iced tea.  Let me also point out that this is around the point where if you were to encounter me on the street, it would just be weird.  Not like, “Oh why am I talking to that guy with a mustache?” weird, but more like Tim and Eric Awesome Show weird. 

It must be pointed out that at this point, the night diverged into an attempt to fight that previously mentioned Asian kid.  But it was just the typical drunk guys yelling at each other acting tough.  +100 tough points for us. 

3:28 am:  No fight asian.  Ate mad food.  Stomach might explode.  Wanna pass out.

Well like I said, +100 tough points for us.  But thankfully I managed to get back to 711 in one piece and indulge in some poor quality food that will make me feel worse.  On a final note, I had Comcast coming at 8am the next morning, and knowing that there was more of a chance of De Moss winning a nobel prize in nuclear physics than me waking up for it, I left this on the door:

Boom.  I’ll be back later this week, because this is so much more entertaining than writing final papers or studying.  


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