I Used to like liquor more

Back when i was more of a strapping young lad than i am now i had the audacity to say that i would never be a person who drank beers. sure i did my share of other things but never the beer and no pills. but sure as i am standing here today as soon as i got to college i unleashed a fury of beer drinking the likes of a small virginia town nestled in the hills had ever seen before. i quickly became that guy. i like to say the only foreign language i picked up in college that i still use is the drunken whisper. it all started out innocently enough. me and the boys were bored and we wanted to go and get some action. unfortunately for us we were in the village of farmville so that basically meant lets go over to the other college and yell rude things at the girls. if they liked what they heard we won. we got a lot of dirty looks but it did work more often than not. we liked to call it fishing for the longwoodies. then what we would do once we had a truck full of girls is we would bring them back to the frat that we all hung out at (there wasnt anywhere else to go to) and we would rig up the fooze ball table so we could play a now internationally known sport called beer pong. if your arent familiar with the game you need to get familairized. for those of you still with us we did this routine for the first few months. then came the glory we all knew and lusted for each year it came around. GREEK WEEK. this was the culmination of drinking on a campus already known for drinking. this was to be my first. the week started out easy enough-two power hours and dinner then 2 beer bong shots and another power hour( it was during this week that i lost my beer bonging ability) the next day was similar but with no classes at all thus the drinking began mighty early. then came the big day. actually it was night when the good stuff im about to impart unto you began. first we started with the hall crawl. each room had a different shot. i think i went tequila, rum, whiskey, rum, tequila, vodka. then onward ho. now we have some of that liquid courage in me i could drink anything. we continue on up the stairs to the liquor luge. this is basically a massive block of ice with a trench dug down the middle of it. then you put your mouth at one end and someone poors the cheapest liquor ever down the other side. by the time the shitty liquor has run over all the ice to get into your mouth you cant even tell what you are drinking anymore. so after a turn or two here it is time for the dance floor. at this point in the story the memories are no longer all mine. parts of them are mine but the majority my friends told me over the next few days. now normally i am not a dancer but if you put me in a room with hot chicks that like to rub there bodies on you while dancing and me with a head full of liquor i will dance with the ugliest girl in the room everytime. but i like to think it wasnt always the fugliest girl ever-interesting side note, you would be surprised just how many people dont know about the word or category of fugly, educate the masses people-but anyways after a few dances i got thirsty again. so i head to the bar, my drunken eyes are looking for thing that i like and that i know what it is. i see gatorade-good not alcoholic, rum-good, whiskey-good, sprite-ok but not awesome also not alcohol, and hawaiian punch-really good but no alcohol. smartly i ask for a mixed drink consisting of whiskey and rum. unsmartly they gave it to me. then another then another then one more i am told. after that i was only given mixers and was told it was liquor. why no one made me leave i dont know. maybe i was just that cool, maybe my drunken whispers were more like revelations and everyone was having epiphanys and i was in the middle of an epiphany storm(ill tell yall about when i was in one once another time) either way i was still there, or so i thought. moments later my eyes slowly open. i am in my room. i am alone. my roommate is in his bed. it is light out. my body is sore and my back really hurts. i reach around to my back and there is about a 6 inch cut from the top of my shoulder down. i feel like i am inside a giant cotton ball and i need to drink more water than the stupid ass water machine will pump out at once. i drink water and i drink forever. finally i am fulled satisfied. now come the questions- what the fuck happened) where did this big as scrap on my back come from? why are sticks and leaves all in my shoes. alright now this part is all from my friends telling me what happened and nothing from my own memory. apparently after i drank the first few whiskey and rums and i was being fed mixers i became a bit tired and a bit ornery. at first they decided to stop serving me but i wasnt having any of that so they held a cup full of just plain old water in front of my face and i, like a dog follow the drink outside. there they give it to me and let me sit down for a bit. then after about 20 minutes someone comes to check on me. only now i am out. i am talking asleep so bad that a train going by inches from my face wouldnt disturb my sweet baby dreams. but they had to get me home or at least of the where people would walk by. so rather than pick me up my friends drag my all the way back to the dorm. this is probably a good quarter mile and mostly through a trail in the woods. it was very unpleasant for them as well. i am tall and lanky and i catch on things on the ground. not to mention i am not the skinniest little daisy on the circuit. but all in all i learned a new respect for my tolerance to alcohol poisoning and i slowed down my hard liquor consumption considerably. now i just enjoy a nice 12 pack at night and i am good to go. alrighty then you yankees and hill billys take it easy and never ever drop the peasy.