TimeKillers

[mustynutz]

There's always going to be that kid that lives down the street. The annoying, young brat that finds it legit to invite himself over on a periodical basis. He occupies your gaming console for hours on end, consumes every wince of sugar based products, and treats you like he's paying for a hotel room and your the room service.

His name was Matthew. He was the slimy booger eating, loud mouthed, little fucker that lived five houses down from me. I had made the mistake of "hanging out" with him when he had first moved to my street and for the next four years would heavily regret doing so. My ridiculous reason for doing so? He had one of those spiffy basketball goals that you could lower down to a whopping seven feet. I was a small bugger. I wanted to dunk goddamnit...

But there is only so much one can take of a fellow like him...


---



The phone rang. I typically don't like answering the phone. But, I picked it up anyways:



***

"Hey Ryan!"

*grunt*
".....hey."

"Can I come over?!"

*grunt*
".....sure."

***



I clicked the "off" button on the cordless phone. He was probably already beginning his poor excuse for a sprint to my house. There was a knife by the sink. I pondered grabbing and in a swift occurrence, slitting my throat and saving me the misery that was to come in only a mere couple of minutes.

"No no, Ryan. He's not worth it, man." I thought out loud.

All in all, it may actually have been worth it.


Matthew arrived. I proceeded to greet him, you know, a simple high-five or a hand shake perhaps. He looked at me:



***

"Can I play your Super Nintendo?"
"Umm ... sure, I guess."

***



Five hours later, after wandering around my house pacing as to what to do about the "thing" wearing out the buttons on my controllers upstairs, I finally decided and that I was through. I wanted to play some goddamn Mortal Kombat, and there was nothing that little fucker could do to stop me.

I traveled upstairs, opened the door, and covered my mouth as I let out a small yelp. He looked like a zombie, a foot from the screen with eyes as big as someone who had seen a ghost. It was quite possibly one of the most disturbing things I've seen to date.

I shut the door. I faded off for a minute or two, trying to regain my posture and confidence. That was my damn console, and I wanted to play it.

I opened the door once more. I still flinched at the site, but I stuck out my chest and said:



***

"Matthew, I want to play some Super Nintendo."
"............" No answer.
"MATTHEW! GET OFF MY GODDAMN SUPER NINTENDO!"
"............" Still no answer.

***



All that preparing and the fucker wouldn't even acknowledge my rather loud attempts of getting his attention. So, I did what any kid would do to someone occupying an electrical component.

I saw the outlet, I unplugged the gaming device.



***

"What the hell are you doing?! I was almost at the boss!"
"I told you to get off."
"Well I don't care. I was playing it first."
"I TOLD YOU to get off."
"Well, I'm not. You're the host and I'm the guest. I get to play as long as I want."

***



Fury building up, can't see, steam rising from body. We had bunk beds in the game room at the time. He had scooted back towards the railing, enough so that the evil plan in my head could be pulled off.

I grinned. This would surely allow me to play my game.




***

"Hey, Matt."
"What?"

***



I dashed over to him. He looked very stunned, too stunned to defend himself. I grabbed his forehead and WHAM; I slammed the back of his head on the rail of the bottom bunk. A little blood spat out, and he rolled to his side. He didn't move, this was not part of the plan.

I panicked. Had I killed him? No, I could see him breathing. But I was still in deep shit. I was young; I didn't know what to do if you knocked someone out. So, I thought about movies I had seen.

I don't remember which movie led me to do what I did next...

I sat down, grabbed my head, and slammed it rather hard into the railing of the bottom bunk. For some odd reason, this seemed like the best away to go about it. My parents and Matt's parents coming to my house and finding there's sons knocked out with blooding on the back of their heads seemed like something they could figure out.

I don't remember what happened next or how long Matt and I were laying there. I do remember waking up after Matt, only to find out the little fucker had ratted on me.


All in all, that knife would have been worth it.

 

[mustynutz]

When I was in High School I was enrolled in a student nursing program. We studied Liberal Arts classes in the morning and Nursing classes in the afternoon. When I was a junior, 16 years old, we started spending an afternoon a week at the local hospital helping the nurses and learning our trade.

One day the head nurse informed me that I would be learning to do shave preps and that I would be assisting her shaving a male patient for hernia surgery. I must have blushed crimson because she said "There's nothing for you to be embarrassed about. After all it's the guy who's getting shaved." She grabbed two prep kits and I followed her to the prep room where the patient was waiting. I tried to calm down but my hands were shaking and my mouth was dry. When we entered the room I was looking at the floor. The nurse said 'Margo this is Mr. Johnson'. That's when I looked up and got THE SHOCK OF MY LIFE! 'Mr. Johnson' was a senior boy I went to school with and had a crush on. From the look on his face he was just as shocked as I was. Both of us turned red, but neither of us said a word. He was sitting on the table wearing a little gown which he tried to cover more of himself with. The nurse took it all in stride and told him to lie down. She promised him we wouldn't hurt him and then she stepped up to the table with her prep kit. I was trying to get as far away as possible, but she said 'Margo please step up to the other side of the table.' I did and that's when she asked him to sit up and she undid his gown and pulled it off. The poor guy was now totally naked! She told him to lie down and she immediately began shaving off his pubic hair. All the while she was explaining how to do it to me, but I wasn't hearing a word. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd faint! 'And that's when she handed me the razor and said, 'Okay you can do the rest.' I thought my hands were shaking before. I took the razor and VERY gently began to shave the boy I had a crush on. The Problem was his penis kept getting in the way and finally the nurse said 'Pick up his penis in one hand and shave with the other. Now I really felt like I was going to faint. I did as I was told and tried to finish shaving him as fast as I could without cutting him. And that's when it happened. He got a huge erection!! I was SO embarrassed I started to apologize, but the nurse said, 'These things happen all the time. I'll finish this one. Why don't you go see if they need any help at the desk.' I ran out of that room as fast as I could.

Weeks later I passed the boy in school and we both blushed bright red. Neither one of us ever said a word to each other about it!

 

[mustynutz]

It was 2001... I was 14 and my sister was 16. Flare jeans and belly shirts were in fashion. I guess from the first time I saw the pair I was enthralled and hooked on women's clothing. The first few times I sneaked into Sis' wardrobe I was meticulous. I always managed to replace her clothes EXACTLY as I had found them. As they say, "familiarity breeds contempt". I became increasingly less careful in replacing her clothing. Eventually Sis became suspicious and started complaining to Mom that her clothing and other delicacies had been disturbed. Since there was only the three of us, and Mom wasn't the offender, they deduced I had been rummaging through Sis' wardrobe. Mom got me alone one evening and I got the full lecture on privacy, blah, blah, blah!!! Not to be thwarted, my obsession continued, as did Sis' complaints. Mom was at her wits end as she realised nothing she could say was going to stop me.

On a particularly cool Fall afternoon I was indulging myself to the max. I knew I had the house to myself for the next several hours. Mom was at work and Sis had gone to a movie with her friend. So there I was... dressed to the "full"... knee high green & white cheer socks, panties, white sports bra (stuffed with Sis' foam falsies), a two piece green & white cheerleader outfit, Sis' favourite green & white cheer shoes, a green & white angora v-neck cheer sweater. As I preened in front of the full length mirror Sis and her friend, Lori, came in and grabbed me, supposedly they had been in the doorway for a few minutes. I was mortified!!! To cut a long story short, they forced me to remain dressed as I was... took snapshots with a digital camera... and paraded me in front of Mom when she came home from work. By this time Mom had had enough. She decreed that I was to be "punished" and forced to dress in Sis' clothes for the entire weekend. Not only that... I had to accompany them grocery shopping, shopping for clothing, and to a Saturday night movie with Sis and Lori dressed in whatever they felt was appropriate. They even dragged me to church in Sis' finest Sunday church satin and lace gown. They took great delight in presenting me to everyone as "My son who just can't seem to keep out of our closets". Their theory was, of course, to embarrass me to such an extent that I would forever give up all interest in feminine clothing. IT DIDN'T WORK!!! The very next week Sis came into my room early one morning demanding to know where her new full length satin nightie was. Boy, was she very mad when she saw me half awake... wearing it.

Sis and Mom eventually gave up trying to undo the obvious.

 

[CALiLiFE82]

TELL THAT LITTLE FUCKER TO GET HIS OWN SUPER NINTENDO !!!!! LOL !!!

 

[mustynutz]

most embarrasing moment
Me? I have a very long list.

Here's one:

I was going down on a girlfriends pussy one night in the dark, and finished by fucking her for a solid, studly, 2 minutes. I went into the bathroom , turned on the light, and there it was, a bloodclot clinging to the end of my dick.


Ok, one more

I got shitty drunk at a farmer bar in the toolies. I got in my truck and attempted to leave but decided against it as I ended up grazing two trees in the parking lot. I laid down on the seat and went to sleep. When I woke up, it was raining rain drops the size of pancakes, and I had to piss real bad.. I said fuck it! Laid on my side on the bench seat and pissed on the floorboards, about ten times throughout the night. It was an old truck and the floors were bare metal and I just went to the carwash and washed it out, but purdy fuckin' gross.

This just tells you how hard it is to be single nowadays... This was on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno on Sept. 7, 1999. Jay went into the audience to find the most embarrassing first date that a woman ever had.

The winner described her worst first date experience. There was absolutely no question as to why her tale took the prize!

She said it was midwinter...snowing and quite cold...and the guy had taken her skiing. It was a day trip (no overnight). They were strangers, after all, and truly had never met before. The outing was fun but relatively uneventful until they were headed home late that afternoon.

They were driving back down the mountain when she gradually began to realize that she should not have had that extra latte. They were about an hour away from anywhere with a rest room and in the middle of nowhere. Her companion suggested she try to hold it, which she did for a while. Unfortunately, because of the heavy snow and slow going, there came a point where she told him that he had better stop and let her pee beside the road, or it would be the front seat of his car.

They stopped and she quickly crawled out beside the car, yanked her pants down and started. Unfortunately, in the deep snow she didn't have good footing, so she let her butt rest against the rear fender to steady herself. Her companion stood on the other side of the car watching for traffic and indeed was a real gentleman and refrained from peeking.

All she could think about was the relief she felt despite the rather embarrassing nature of the situation. Upon finishing however, she soon became aware of another sensation. As she bent to pull up her pants, the young lady discovered her buttocks were firmly glued against the car's fender.

Thoughts of tongues frozen to pump handles immediately came to mind as she attempted to disengage her flesh from the icy metal. It was quickly apparent that she had a brand new problem due to the extreme cold. Horrified by her plight and yet aware of the humor she answered her date's concerns about "what was taking so long" with a reply that indeed, she was "freezing her butt off and needed some assistance"!

He came around the car as she tried to cover herself with her sweater and then, as she looked imploringly into his eyes, he burst out laughing. She too, got the giggles and when they finally managed to compose themselves, they assessed her dilemma. Obviously, as hysterical as the situation was, they also were faced with a real problem. Both agreed it would take something hot to free her chilly cheeks from the grip of the icy metal.

Thinking about what had gotten her into the predicament in the first place, both quickly realized that there was only one way to get her free so, as she looked the other way, her first time date proceeded to unzip his pants and pee her butt off the fender. Rescue accomplished, they returned to the car although for the remainder of the trip home there wasn't much conversation and apparently, despite their "intimate encounter," the two did not see one another again.
As for the Tonight Show...she took the prize hands down...or perhaps that should be "pants down." And you thought your first date was embarrassing. A whole new definition of being "pissed off".

 

[mustynutz]

To start off, Yes, I'm a teenager. So don't laugh at me for living at home.

Ok, a couple years ago my mom and I traveled to LA, which by the way is a mess of a city, the sky there is always a dull grey. So anyways my Aunt was getting married for the second time, the first being a miserable disgrace of a bastard who she later divorced. Luckily they didn't have any children, that could have gotten messy. We attended the marriage the day after we flew in, it was really low key, held in a family friend's backyard, the ceremony lasted mere minutes.

Soon it became apparent to me there was only one other person there who was under 40 years old. He was a little bit older than me, and seemed Ok from the beginning. Soon I realized he was one of those people who made every conversation akward. He continually bugged me about going down the street to see some friends of his, who I figured I wouldn't like anyways, so I told him I'd meet him there after I got something to eat. Of course I ditched him and haven't heard from him since, thankgod.

I went back to the main reception area to find my mom, I looked forever before finding her dancing wildly in front of some DJ's in their mid-twenties or so. And to make matters worse she was doing it with the Groom, the Bride watching shocked. This put me into kind of an akward spot, I had never seen my mom drunk before, usually she's quiet and anti-social. Not one to have twenty 40 year olds watching her dance and grind wildly with the groom. So lacking the balls it would take to confront her I slumped off into the shadows and lazily shot pool by myself for the next hour or so. The day was already bad, I didn't realize how bad it would get. Eventually I heard someone mumbling something incoherently to my left. I glanced over and there was my mom, some other party-goers attempting to convince her to go back to the hotel. One of them agreed to drive her there. So of course I tagged along. My mom kept speaking to me in a mumbled french-english mix as she skipped gaily down the road towards our ride, honked and hollered at by countless motorists. My face by now must have been a crimson red trying to keep her in control like I was.

So we got in the car, my mom's drunken wildness being both funny and embarassing at the same time. Our driver couldn't find a parking space so we had to park on the 2nd floor, reminding me of the stairs I would have to endure with my mom. As soon as we had gotten out of the car and the friend who had driven us was leaving, my mom's mood changed suddenly. This is when I began to get a little spooked. I, a 14 year old at the time (yes, mock me for I am young), had a now apparently drugged mother laying at my feet on the 2nd floor of a parking garage mumbling to herself. I pulled her up and propped her on my shoulder, trying my best to escort her without drawing too much attention. At first it went alright, then we came to the stairs. As I was considering the best approaches to getting her down the stairs in one piece, she stumbled forward, half walking, half falling down the stairs, I chased after her, praying that she didn't hurt herself. Somehow she did make it to the bottom without inflicting too much self pain (I found her in a heap at the bottom of the steps). But my attempt at stealth was now in vain, a whole crowd had stopped to stare. In a situation like that I wasn't sure whether to smile, frown, or laugh. So I simply said nothing, now I was too worried about my mom to worry about the embarassment. So I lifted my mom and we set off again, trying my best to support her. Several times she slumped to the ground, delaying us momentarily so I could notice the throng of people staring and gaping from different angles. Eventually we made it to the hotel door, where the situation got even worse.

The hotel lobby was crowded, but I managed to maneuver my mom through without drawing too much attention. Until we came to the elevator. Lady Luck was yet again against me as we approached the huge crowd waiting for the elevator. Our room was on the 18th floor, in a 20 floor hotel. So we had to wait in the crowded elevator for everyone else to depart. My mom struck up conversation with random people a few times, it was the most akward ride I've ever had. Finally we got to our floor, where I brought my mom to our room, then to her bed where I laid her down.

I walked to the bathroom, eager to wash up and get briefly away from my mom for the time being. I quickly splashed water on my face and then headed back to check on my drunken parent. The first thing I noticed as I re-entered the room was the brownish-grey stain spreading across the carpet. I followed the trail up to my moms lips, spewing seemingly endless mush all over the nice hotel floor. And now for the low point of my entire life. Carrying my mom across a hotel room towards a bathroom as she puked endlessly all down my neck. She soon passed out on the floor in a puddle of her own puke, leaving me without a clue as to what to do. So I retired to my bed and cried myself to sleep (fine give me shit about that, but I was only 14). And there ends the worst day of my life. I don't know why I chose to share this but I felt like writing and it was all I could think about.

 

[mustynutz]

I've worked in a bar fo a few years now and somethings never get old to me, and the one that tops that list is cutting off someone who has had too much to drink. I mean it can be done in so many ways, the is the useful but not so fun ignore tactic, however this quickly gets drunk people falling out of their chairs as they wave at you trying to get your attention. You can even go the easy route and just flat out say I think you've had enough for tonight. But those two just don't seem to get the job done anymore, sure they stop drinking but, then I get bored of their whining, so I have found new ways to make someone wish they had quit drinking...


The Burning Beer - Since Ceasars, and Bloody Mary's have tobasco, I have found that if you just smear some around the tip of the bottle when you crack it, you get drunks crying, coughing and weezing in only seconds when their favorite lager or ale or what have you touches their trembling sauced up lips. This may seem mean but usually you can say "Oh, I'm sorry maybe it's your body telling you, you've had enough", and if they complain and ask for another one you can always just go the easy route and say no.

Bar Mat Shots - Near the end of the night when you are trying to close and go home, you always have those drunk customers that say "one more for the road, make it a shot", well there are little spills throughout the night that get caught in my bar mats, I just pick them up and pour them into a shot glass and say "Here ya go, it's on me"...To watch them swallow what can only be described as something that would scare a blind, deaf, mute without the senses of smell and taste, it makes me giddy to think about it even now. "What The Hell Was That?!?!?!", "It's called the closer wants to go home."

Phantom Alcohol - If you've ever been in a bar and your drink starts to lose it's bite, you've usually been cut off and haven't realized it, thats cause you are drinking 4 dollar cokes, you lucky dog you, you didn't even get a reason, we just knew that you love the cool refreshing taste of cola.


Aside from the cut offs there are other fun little things you can do to drunk people in the bar. Like when you get a sleeper, that guy who slowly fades out as the night goes on, and ends up face down, thats the guy that you start putting things in his hands, like toilet paper and vasoline, hundreds of olives, his already paid bill with a few sero's tacked on to the end, or the fake Visa slip with the $2000 dollar tip, give them a shake and watch as they rouse from their Bourbon induced coma, only to not know where they are or how they have finished the crossword puzzle.

This is my first post, nothing good at the moment, however I guess I will have to get the criticism over with...Just remember your bartender gets bored too, tip well and cut yourselves off you booze pounding hooligans.

 

[mustynutz]

The year was 1999, and as far as I knew I had one year left to live. So I started to date this nice little Jewish girl. Actually she was the second Jewish girl I had dated. A couple years prior I was with a typical JAP. She actually broke my heart, she dumped me because her mother told her that she should be playing the field more and shouldn't settle down. I think her Mom saw the rusted up family Ford Tempo I was driving and told her she could do better financially. Any way that's another story.

Back to 1999, Jewish girl 2, she was the type of girl that Jared would be proud of. She was petite, long dark hair, nice pouty lips and an ass to die for. (No, I'm not trying to start a J-date series or anything, her being Jewish has nothing to do with the story, but for some reason it will be consistently brought up). Oh yeah and she had the nicest nipples I've ever seen. I solid round quarter size, without any of those baby nipples surrounding the mother nipple. I have still to come across nicer nipples.

We dated for about a month, I never slept with her but pretty much everything else, I guess she was a just a nice innocent Jewish girl. Things subsided and we just stopped talking for a while, which was good because she was boring as hell.

Fast-forward 5 months>>>>>>>>>>

I'm out with my buddies drinking of course, actually this was a night I was actually not drinking, I was the DD (responsibility!), I had a couple of beers but then I cut myself off. Next thing I see is Nice Nipples out with a bunch of her girly girls drinking it up. Seeing as that we didn't end on a bad note I decided to be polite and go say hi.

Me: Hey, what's up?
NN: HHHHHHEEEEEEEYYYYYYY! SEEEEEEEAAAAAAANNNNN!
*** Okay she was drunk***
Me: Havin' fun tonight are we.
NN: YUPPERINO! Em leeving fur the summer at 5 in tha moooooooorning tomorra, Em wurkin' in peensilvania for a cam..cam.. CAMP!
Me: **in head** interesting, I don't know Sean she is pretty drunk, I don't know if she even likes you anymore...
NN: Yooouuuu Loooook HOT!
Me: **in head** I'm in.

I hang out with her and her friends for the rest of the night, she keeps drinking. One of her friends (Fake-boobs we called her, she was one of those Jewish girls that asked daddy to buy her titties for Hanukah to make up for being hit by the ugly stick as a kid) kept whispering in Nice Nipples ear "Do not go home with Sean, Do not go home with Sean" over and over again. Not to fret people, I won that battle easily all I did was complement Nice Nipples purse and she was in my car on the way home.

Seeing how I lived at home and she lived at home I knew this was going to be a car job. I look over at her and she is already taking off her clothes.

NN: It... hot. In... hot
Me: Okay, but I'm not here to cool you off. (I pull over, and yes I actually said that but I don't think she could hear me she was so drunk.)

We start at it good. She gives me one hell of a BJ, I don't know what it is maybe it's all that gloss Jewish chicks put on their lips but Hot Diggity Damn! I return the favor and munch on some Jewish Taco. (Is that even possible?). We have a good night all round.

No I didn't bury my love stick in her wonder hole, because well I guess I have a soul and I would have felt bad for taking advantage of her. And don't say I already did, we were just continuing where we left off.

So I drive her home, and it's about 430am, she's so drunk she just puts her jeans back on and does the boobie cover run back to her front door, bra, panties, shirt all in hand. I was being the gentleman that I am and waiting to see if she got in her home safe and sound, when I notice her keys laying next to me in the front seat. I look up and see her looking back at me as if to bring her the keys, and then the door opens... Who do I see but what I could only describe as a stocky, rather large, plump, bald Jewish father standing in the doorway staring at a topless, drunk, dazed little 19 year Jewish daughter. Before Nice Nipples turned back to me for help, all you could hear was the screeching of my mom's Ford Tempo's tires on the pavement. I was gone. She was gone in 30 minutes.

Last fall I ran into her in Ottawa almost 5 ½ years later...

NN: Hi Sean! Long time no see.
Me: Yup it has been awhile, 5 years I think...
NN: do you have my keys?
Me: nope, sorry
NN: that's okay, you look good.
Me: Can I buy you a drink?

 

[mustynutz]

Ah, the wonderful days of high school and the adventures and parties we had in those times.

On this particular day, we had been celebrating something. I honestly don't remember what is was anymore, some friend of a friend's sister's cousin's husband's new understanding of the schwartz or something. It doesn't really matter, and it didn't then either. Any excuse to go out and fornicate was used.

I wasn't much of a drinker in high school. Alcohol and me didn't become best friends until about 3 years after then. Of course, back then I had the balls of youth. We were enjoying a good party and getting more drunk by the minute. Nirvana raged on in the background, I think. That's how I remember it anyway.

Then one of my friends brought up how he would "trim" his pubes to make his wang look bigger. I was still young enough to have never heard of this optical illusion, so I was very impressed with the idea. Soon after that discussion, the party broke up and everyone went home.

I came stumbling into my house at around 2AM, trying not to wake the 'rents up. When I got in there, I realized just how badly I had to pee. I quietly fell into the bathroom when my friend's words of wisdom came into mind. I decided right then and there to try it. I got out my razor and started to trim my pubes like I would my stubbly wish-it-were-a-beard. Oddly enough, I didn't chop off my bippy.

I forgot all about doing that until about 8 days later when I had, after many, many months of nagging, landed a date with (who in retrospect, really wasn't) a super fox. I wasn't really a "ladies man" in high school, so I was very proud of my accomplishment. The night went by pretty smoothly (which, looking back, was like really about as smooth as having my body dragged over a million speed bumps at 200 mph) and one thing inevitably started leading to another. In my adolescent, panicked frenzy I had still not thought about what I had done the other night.

She reached down to unzip my pants, and I, my ego having been boosted to unfathomable levels, expected to see her jaw drop in astonishment. Instead, she said something closer to, "What the hell is that?!" For a second, I thought she was just trying to compliment me. Then it sunk in. I remembered what I had done. I looked down and my pubes looked like a corn field that had been recently ravaged by a tornado. It was awful. There were bald spots that had been given just enough time to grow a little stubble right next to spots that looked gigantic in comparison.

She promptly left after that and it took a good year before I ever got any.

 

[mustynutz]

At the tender age of 10, I was moved to a foster home. I was blessed with the most loving, and caring parents that any child could be blessed with. I was also given a brother, and though he was fourteen months junior to me, our age difference was practically negligible. We always treated each other as equals, and we were as close as any biological brothers could and should be.

A year ago this week, I was extremely ill, bed-ridden with the flu. Randy, my foster brother, was at work. I was later told that Randy had gotten fired that day, and like too many angry teenage kids he took his sorrow to a bar, about an hour west of my house, where he managed to get totally smashed. Having enough sense in his drunken brain, he called his girlfriend for a ride who was at home, watching movies with a bunch of her friends.

His girlfriend refused. She refused to pick him up because she claimed she was tired of coming to get him every time he got drunk. She wanted to teach him a lesson.

Unfortunately for her, Randy and everyone else involved, that lesson resulted in death. Randy wrapped his car around a pole that night.

I felt, and still feel, an unhealthy dose of anger from that day. I am angry at my weakness, at the fact that I was sick, because Randy and I both knew that I would not hesitate for a second to go pick him up had he called me.

I was angry at Michelle, his girlfriend of two years, his apparent lover, for having her head so far up her ass that she felt the need to display a "my man don't control me" attitude in front of her prissy valley girl friends. Unfortunately for her, she'll have to live with the guilt for the rest of her life.

I'm angry at the bartender, angry that he let Randy drive home in the condition that he was in.

And lastly I'm angry at Randy, angry at his irresponsibility, angry that he gave up on a ride after only one call, and angry that he didn't call me because he valued my well being over his. Angry for leaving a loving and caring mother who still wakes up at night, weeping for her youngest son. I suppose the only consolation from this tragedy was the fact that Randy took no other innocent lives with him that day, though some would argue how innocent his life really was.

So the next time someone calls you, intoxicated, and in need of a ride, please pick them up. There will be plenty of time to bitch later. Because if you don't, it could very well be the last conversation you will ever have with them.

 

[mustynutz]

When Tom and Nick and I were roommates, we used to have "Jungle Juice" parties at our apartment about twice a month. I'm sure most of you know of, have heard of, or have tasted Jungle Juice, but for those of you not clued-up, here is our secret formula:

(1) half-gal. Bacardi 151 (about 2L for the metric folk)
(1) half-gal. Smirnoff Blue Label
(1) fifth Everclear (about 750 mL)
(3) gal. Orange or Lemon-lime Gatorade
(2) L Mello-Yello or Mountain Dew
(1) handful crushed caffeine pills dissolved in a cup of hot water

We even bought one of those orange 5-gal sports coolers with the tap on it, specifically for our parties. We always got loads of compliments on our brew. I loved it. It tasted a lot like lemonade. A little piece of advice? Don't DRINK it like lemonade. It will Fuck You Up Fast.

The party that night was progressing along nicely. Tom collected the money at the door, Nick handed them a small plastic cup and admonished them to not chug it, lest they end up in the Emergency Room. I hovered near the cooler in the kitchen, to ensure that no one tried to sneak in a 7/11 Big Gulp tankard or otherwise Bogart the mix.

Our parties were typically self-regulating. That is to say, the line for Juice was usually long enough that no one could really hammer themselves without a fair amount of warning. That's not to say that people didn't get drunk. God knows almost everyone got plastered in our apartment. What I mean is, no one drank quickly enough to force a blackout, induce a seizure, or bring about alcohol poisoning.

Then the drunk chick showed up. You all know who I'm talking about. The Drunk Chick. The freshman girl who came to your party and tried to drink like a sailor. The lass who yearned to break away from her parochial school upbringing and taste the sweetness of her newly found freedom in college. The girl who didn't know any better.

To be fair, she wasn't drunk when she arrived. No, it wasn't until Tom collected her $5 that things started to go downhill. Rapidly. Through some preposterous quirk in the laws of social dynamics, the Juice line dissipated, and Drunk Chick found herself all alone at the tap. Tom approached me.

Tom: "I'm tired of collecting money. You do it. I'll watch the tap."

Me: "Uh...Okay."

Now, I don't really think Tom was "tired of collecting money". I immediately (and correctly) surmised that Tom's cognitive progression went along these lines: Hey! Here's a new girl who doesn't know I'm Mad As A Bag Of Badgers. Game on!

I left the kitchen for the front door to monitor incoming guests, and busied myself there for a good 15 minutes. When I got back around to the kitchen the girl WAS STILL AT THE TAP. Drinking. Killing her liver single-handedly. Leaving Las Vegas, if you dig what I'm saying. I pulled Tom aside.

Me: "Tom, what the fuck are you doing?"

Tom (scowling): "What? I'm just giving her a head start, so she doesn't have to wait in line."

Me: "You fucking Fruit Loop, she's gonna black out!"

Tom: "FINE!! SO I'LL TAKE HER TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!!"

Rather than get into an argument about it (which, of course, had the strong likelihood of exploding into a full blown one-sided psycho scream-fest), I let it go.

Me: "Fine. You're responsible for her."

Surprisingly, the rest of the guests were fairly well behaved, and the festivities went off without much trouble. I did notice, however, that Tom and the Drunk Chick disappeared sometime during the evening, well before the last guest left. Nick and I decided to leave the cleanup for the morning.

I was aroused from my slumber some time later by the most ghastly screeching imaginable. I immediately launched myself out of bed and down the hall to Tom's room, where he was furiously slapping the Drunk Chick across the face and Shrieking Like A Berserker in an attempt to induce consciousness. Nick was already there, trying to calm him down. Let me just say that the Drunk Chick was Fucked Up. I checked her breathing, which was extremely shallow. Her pulse was very faint. All the while Tom was in hysterics. He kept screaming and crying and was completely irrational. It grated my nerves to such a great extent that I lost my head completely.

Me: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKING PUSSY!!!"

To my astonishment, Tom instantly quieted down to a low whimper, allowing Nick and I to put our heads together and compose a workable plan. The strategy was basically this: Take her to the Emergency Room. One of us was not happy with the plan.

Tom: "No fucking way! We'll get busted for her underage drinking! Contributing to the delinquency of a minor! She'll sue us! My Dad will get disbarred! Forget it! I'm n-"

Nick: "WOULD YOU RATHER GET BUSTED FOR FUCKING MANSLAUGHTER?! SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!!"

Wow. It really was the night to get away with all kinds of shit. Normally, there was no way Tom would have stood for any of that, but I suppose he was completely and utterly dependent on the two of us to get him out of his mess. Gingerly and quietly as we could, we picked up the Drunk Chick, carried her downstairs, and loaded her into Tom's Blazer. Off we sped towards the ER.

When we arrived at the entrance to the hospital, God smiled upon us by giving us a completely empty Emergency Room. The wasn't even any staff standing around. I put the car in park and surveyed the entrance for about 15 seconds before coming up with a revised plan. Nick ran to the entrance, swiped an empty gurney, and sprinted back to the car. Tom and I were ready with the Drunk Chick. We laid her down upon the gurney and the three of us furiously pushed it towards the automatic doors. We stopped well short of the security cameras, and let her momentum carry her through the doors and into the hospital. Then we sprinted back to the car and hauled ass the fuck out of there. The last we saw of her that night, the Drunk Chick was careening down the antiseptic halls of the Watauga County Medical Center.

Once back on the main roads, we all breathed a huge sight of relief, but our night was not over. Tom was absolutely convinced that the girl would tell the cops, who would come kicking in the door SWAT-style within the hour. Despite Nick's and my best efforts, he would not be dissuaded. So we all feverishly cleaned up the apartment well into midmorning. By the time we were done, that place looked like a Goddamned decorator's showroom. We went to sleep.

Later on that afternoon, we were all roughly awakened by a series of booming knocks at the front door. The Drunk Chick had shown up. Her eyes had the burst blood vessels you get from vomiting too hard. Her face was extremely pale, and she looked positively dreadful. So did her obviously livid father, who had her by the hand. The guy looked like he was about to fly into a rage any second. But I'll give Tom full credit. He kept himself completely tranquil the entire time. Fear will do that to you, I suppose. He even answered the door holding his mother's Bible.

Tom: "Hello?"

Father: "SHE'S ONLY FOURTEEN WHAT IN THE BLUE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!"

Tom: "What? I don't th-"

Father: "DON'T GIVE ME THAT FUCKING BULLSHIT I KNOW YOU HAD A PARTY HERE LAST NIGHT!!"

Drunk Chick: "I don't think this is the place, Dad. The place I went to didn't look anything like this. Maybe it's the apartment next d-"

Father: "GODDAMNIT CINDY WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU GO LAST NIGHT I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BECOME A FUCKING WHORE!!"

And off he stomped down our stairs, practically dragging his daughter behind him. The three of us stood at the top of the stairs, speechless and visibly relieved at their impending retreat. But I swear to God, I saw her turn back to us smiling just before they turned the corner.

She winked at us. Un-fucking-unbelievable.

 

[mustynutz]

In a cartoon the drunk is always portrayed the same, bright red nose, slurred words, no co-ordination and always, always the drunk has hiccups.

In reality you talk shit, fall over and sometimes vomit, at least I do.
So all in all the cartoons aren't bad parodies of being intoxicated.

Except for the hiccups.
Have you ever had hiccups whilst pissed? Have you ever seen anyone with uncontrollable hiccups whilst hammered? Who the hell gets hiccups whilst drunk? Who?

I did on Sunday night. I was cartoon drunk. I had hiccups for nearly an hour. I could not get rid of the fuckers. Every 30 seconds. Hic. Mouth full of Guinness. Hic. Talk to a mate. Hic. Order a beer. Hic. Take a piss. Hic.

Having the hiccups is fucking annoying! I was cartoon drunk and everyone was taking the piss.

I tried holding my breath. Hic. I tried drinking really quickly. Hic. I tried not drinking anything for a while. Hic. I'm getting sober. Hic. Where's my beer! Hic.

Sodding hiccups. I've had them for ages. I'm starting to ache. People are staring at me like I just burst into their house and pissed on their kids. I've got hiccups, that's all! Leave me alone. Hic. Fuck.

An hour later and I've still got the bastards. Hic. The nights getting old so we decide to do some shots. Hic. Standing at the bar with to mates. Hic. We order shots of Sambuca. Hic. I down my shot. Hic. I think to myself "why the hell did I drink that? I don't like it! I've never liked Sambuca!". Hic. My stomach has the same thought.
I check the distance to the toilet. Hic. Hmmm to far, won't make it. Hic. I can't stand at the bar and vomit can I? Hic. Calm down maybe you won't chuck. Hic. I feel it creeping up my throat. Hic. Christ! fucking hiccups now I've got a mouthful of vomit! What the hell do I do now? I can't spit it out I'm at the bar! I swallow the vomit. Fuck that was disgusting.

I survey the scene. Nobody's looking at me. I think I've got away with it.
Nasty taste in mouth though. Brush teeth with tongue. Drink more beer. Make mental note not to kiss Laura for a while.

Hang on a minute. Nothing. No hiccups. Wait a bit longer. Nothing. I'm cured! The bastards hiccups from hell have gone! I am no longer cartoon drunk. I am now just regular drunk. What a relief. Then it struck me! I've discovered a cure for hiccups! I Dervel the master covert vomiter have discovered an actual cure for hiccups! One that works too! Instead of being made up for everyone else's amusement! Swallow your own vomit! Man I'm a genius! I might even win the noble prize or something. I am so smart!

 

[mustynutz]

About four years ago when I was 21 I worked the late shift for a credit card security company. I got out of the office at midnight and went to the bar for an hour and got home at about 1:30. I went to the basement of my parents house where I was living till I could save up enough money to put down a security deposit for an apartment. I was in the basement watching tv and drinking a beer when the phone rang at about 2:30.

ME: Hello?
Caller: uh..(click)

Whatever, probably just some drunk who dialed the wrong number. I thought about going and checking the caller id upstairs but I am to lazy. So I continue to watch tv and at 3:30 the phone rings again.

ME: Hello?
EX: (Slurred speech) Matt is that you?

It was my ex Kelli, I had broken things off with her three months before that and I had not seen her or talked to her since.

EX: It's my birthday!!
ME: Well happy birthday.

Now I am not being mean or yelling because she is calling my folks house at 3:30 because we were friends for two years before we started dating. I did not want to hurt her feelings and I felt bad when I broke off our romantic relationship but I wanted nothing more than a friendship with her. I know she is more intoxicated than Ted Kennedy on a first date so i am trying to be nice.

The first 15 minutes of the call went just fine. She told me about friends of ours from college that I had not seen in a few years and gave me updates as to how her life is going. Then she just started to cry.

EX: I can't do this anymore. I need you, I miss you so much.
ME: Kelli you are just drunk and thinking about old times. You don't need me, you don't need anyone. It is time to move on with your life. It's your birthday, look at this time to begin a new chapter in your life.
EX: DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND I LOVE YOU!!! I WILL NEVER MOVE ON!! I WONT MOVE ON!!! I WILL KILL YOU AND MYSELF IF I EVER SEE YOU WITH ANOTHER GIRL. I SWEAR TO GOD!!!

After that the phone was hung up. I could tell her roomie got the phone from her and hung it up. I was freaked! I could not understand how she could say she love me, we never even used that word before in our relationship.

The next day I was sitting at the kitchen table having some lunch when my dad came up to me and said "Could you call your ex and ask her that if she was going to call and threaten to kill you if she could do it during normal business hours please."

My dad had listened to our entire conversation the night before.

I did not ever hear from or see Kelli again until last weekend when I was out with my wife.

I will tell that story later.

 

[mustynutz]

Last Saturday my wife and I found out that her cousin and her husband wanted to take our 5-month-old son for the night because they are going to try to start a family and want to practice being parents for a night. We couldn't believe that we were going to have a full night without our little dude around.

We decided that we were going to go out with some friends and have some drinking fun. After dropping off the little guy at 5pm we went back to our house and got ready for our night out.

We ended up at the bar at about 8pm and started drinking with our friends. At about 9:30 I saw her.
My ex Kelli was across the bar about ready to lock her eyes onto mine. I quickly turn around in hopes she would not recognize me. The last time I had talked to her it did not go all that great.

She looked different, her hair was dyed pitch black from the blonde I remember. It looked like she had gotten a few piercing in her face. She used to dress pretty conservative, but now I see her in a mini-skirt that is the shortest mini-skirt I have ever seen. She is wearing a very low cut top that has no back and boots that almost go up to her knees. Her make-up is Goth like. Heavy eyeliner and black lipstick.

I start thinking to myself that the last conversation took place four years ago and she was drunk. She did not really mean anything she said and she was with some other guys. I should go up and say hi and introduce her to my wife and catch up with her. This cant goes wrong at all right kids?

WRONG!!!!

I don't even get a chance to go up to her because while I was sitting there thinking I was safe with my back to her she could see my face in the MIRROR I WAS FACING!!!! Now She is standing right next to my wife and I. Damn I'm dumb.

So here she stands looking down at my wife and I.

EX: Matt, who is your friend?

As if the matching wedding bands did not give it away.

ME: Hello Kelli, this is my wife Erica. Erica this is my old friend Kelli.

Erica knew about Kelli and what happened. I could tell she wanted to laugh at me. I could see it in her eyes. Now I am starting to sweat bullets but then Kelli just says "Great to meet you".

All three of us spent the next two hours talking and drinking. I thought that Kelli had really turned herself around. She was not seeing anybody but she has had boyfriends since me. She had gotten a really good job and was living in her own apartment. I told her about my son and the latest on my life.

At about 11:30 my wife and I decided we should leave. We wanted to save some money and decided we would go home and drink there, we told our friends if they wanted to come over they could. My wife and I went over to Kelli who had gone back to her friends who she came with to say good-bye.

ME: Well Kelli it was good to see you, take care of yourself.
EX: FUCK YOU WHORE!!(At this time she pointing at my wife) You took it all away from me!
WIFE: What did I take from you?!?!?
EX: You took the husband, the child, and the life that should have been mine whore!!! And you,(she is now pointing at me)don't you remember what I told you?!? I told you I would KILL YOU!!!

What?!? She was fine 30 min ago when she walked away from our table. What the fuck happened?!? At this point on a scale from one to ten, I'm so drunk! So I retort back.

ME: Damn Bitch!! You are the most looney fuck I have ever met!!!
HER: I going to FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!
ME: Gotta find me first, bitch!

As my wife and I left she was being held back by only her friends so she could not follow us. No one saw what happened between us except for her friends.

As we got home our friends started coming over and we started telling them what happened. My friend Josh, who we all call fuckup, called and asked if he could bring over a girl he just met at the bar. I said that should be fine.

You guest it kids, Josh walked through my front door with Kelli right behind him.

More on that later.

 

[mustynutz]

All I could think to myself was that this crazy bitch knows where I live, where my wife and I sleep, and more importantly where my son sleeps. My mind was buzzing with all the different ways that this is bad thing. My eyes shifted from Josh to Kelli. I was trying to decide whom I should beat first. Josh knew who Kelli was; he knew we use to date. Josh was doing one of two things

1. Trying to fuck with me by bringing over an ex of mine.
2. Trying to fuck an ex of mine.

If it was just number 2 that would be just fine by me but I believe he wanted to do both so now he is a dead man.

SLAP!!!

My thought process was interrupted by a slap to the face and a knee into my groin. Josh freaked and went to go stop her as did my friend Dru(speeddaimon here on uber)but then everyone just froze. As I was trying to get my eyesight back after the blinding pain that was a knee to my balls I looked up and saw what Kelli had in her hand was what looked to be a small gun.

EX: GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BOTH OF YOU! (Pointing to Josh and Dru)
DRU: Take it easy Kelli, don't do anything stupid.

The gun looked like one of those old western guns that a girl could hide in her garter belt. And now it was pointing right at me. Christ this can't be how it is all going to end is it? Shot down by a psycho while holding my sore crotch. Then she pulled the trigger.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them I saw that the "gun" she was holding was one of those fucking lighters that looks like a gun. She then knelt down beside me and said

EX: Now you know what is like to be afraid of losing everything. That is how I felt when you broke up with me. You are nothing to me now. I have proved my point. I hope I never see you again. Have a nice life.

As she walked out it took three people to hold my wife back from killing her and Dru was helping me up. I had to say something.

ME: Kelli, its nights like tonight that make me wonder why I broke up with you. Have a crazy night you looney bitch.

She did not respond. She just walked to her car and drove away. My wife came up to me and kissed me and hugged me and then she went over to Josh and close-fisted punched him right in the balls. She hit him so hard he threw up.

Erica: If you ever bring another woman into my home again I will cut off your balls.

So my friends and I spent the rest of the night drinking as I iced down my balls and Josh cleaned up his vomit that was on our floor.

The moral of the story kids is that if you are going to break up with someone you had better be ready to always look over your shoulder and prepare for a knee to the groin.

 

[mustynutz]

that should keep you busy

 

[CALiLiFE82]

DAMN MUSTY ..... YOU JUST GAVE YOUR BOY ONE HELL OF A HEADACHE ...... GOOD READS REGARDLESS.

 

[mustynutz]

smoke some shrubs...you be ok....