Drinking Stories - BeerGoggleHell.com » Best Night EVAAAH!

Woohooooo !

yasmin — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 20:26:42 +0000

it was a saturday night after drinking alot of vodka i was a goner i was absolutly maggotted and i hooked up with everyone at this party. Before the party started my friend told me to stay away from all the boys there but i drank way too much and went near all of them. Hooked up with more girls then guys thoe. Thing is i endud up going home with this hottie he slept in my bed i thort he was absolutly sexy as, woke up the next morning and forgot i had someone in my bed i went to the bathroom and went back to bed looked at the person in my bed who i thort was a guy and it turned out to be a girl :O she was the hairiest girl i had ever seen i almost vomited >.< OMG !! Didnt excpect it.

Get on the Bus

Fri, 28 Jan 2011 20:25:57 +0000

My buddy Drew, his friend Annie and I were on a mission. Drew had just turned 21 and we were memorializing the milestone by having a drink in 21 bars. We were making good progress on an alcoholic’s nightmare block in downtown Seattle, but with 11 bars to go, we were facing the ordeal of walking to another area.
Drew was well prepared, having procured a pocket full of maps and marked target bars before we set out. Unfortunately, he had not anticipated the difficulty of reading the maps in the dark while quite thoroughly smashed. He was struggling with his impaired sense of direction when I spotted a group of young men, gathered around a blue school bus.
As boring as it is to be around drunken people when you are sober, a flock of inebriates joking and laughing is irresistible when you have a snoot full. I grabbed my drinking buddies and, as a group, we staggered towards the bus.
When we got there, a fellow named Bob was having a hard time negotiating the narrow doorway. Ever the helpful one, I applied a shoulder to his buttocks and hoisted him through. The shove landed him into a round of cheers from his fellows. While he was being guided to a seat, my group consulted on the advisability of joining these revelers. Given the choice of sitting on a bus that was clearly headed towards more besotted fun and trying to find out own way on foot, we picked the bus.
There was a single open seat in the middle of the bus and we crammed into like we did in the third grade, and joined in to the chorus of, In Heaven There is no Beer. When the verse came around, I belted out a particularly blue verse I learned from a sailor in Annapolis. The boys laughed hardily and made it almost half way through the chorus when they realized that no one knew us.
“Where did you come from?” asked Bob. The question was not unfriendly, encouraging us to reply honestly that we were stowaways. “Hey, Bob!” shouted the Bob in front of us, “These guys crashed your bachelor party!” Bob took the news in stride and welcomed us to the bus.
“This is a bachelor party?” asked Annie, plunging the bus into silence for a moment. It took a moment for the realization that Annie was the only girl on a school bus full of drunks to penetrate my vodka marinated brain.
“Hi, I’m Bob,” said at least three guys trying to out gentleman each other. I will never argue against the premise that all men are pigs, but that night there was camaraderie in the air and, while Annie got plenty of attention, it was all honorable.
The bus was headed to a bar called Slammers after the tequila drink they were famous for. The Bobs were amused enough at us that they bought us a round and officially invited us to continue the tour with them.
I don’t think we ever made it to 21 bars. Towards the end of the evening, the bus came close enough to the hotel room we had taken to avoid drinking and driving that I voted to get off the bus. Drew agreed that the night was a success and it was time to have a quick shot from the minibar and pass out.
Annie was amazing. She was getting her second wind and was assured by Bob that there were still a few bars on the agenda, so she stayed with the bus. It was 24 hours later that we were in any condition to worry about her and we were quite pleased to hear that she made it home safe and sound.
I don’t know how the wedding went, but I owe Bob a big thanks and wish him a happy life.

CHICKEN IS MORE THAN TWO WORDS.

hellhound — Thu, 14 May 2009 20:42:03 +0000

The night of my twenty -fourth birthday was a highly enjoyable one as I remember it.
My bet friend Pat and my little brother came over to my house and we indulged in a divine mind altering substance that I will have the grace not to mention here. Our night had been filled with enjoyable and strange scenarios already when two am rolled around and the drunk bus was let out at my house.
My girlfriend, her friend and husband and another friend of mine all staggered into the apartment.
We three sat there amused at they’re shenanigans, eating raw cookie dough, my girlfriend at the time attempting to play drunken chef as our single friend, let’s call him Eric, was almost inaudibly kvetching for taco bell. meanwhile, the other couple that had come along on this night was having a dispute all they’re own. Alisha, the wife in this scenario was badgering her husband to go swimming in communal pool.
His contesting was doing him little good, as her requests only seemed to grow louder and more frequent.
He tried to make as rational argument that he could when his wife began bellowing out one simple word.
“Chicken!” which she uttered several times before she grew tired of his resisting. “Two words, Chicken!” She said before storming off away from him. We all looked at each other and before we could laugh, Calvin came forward with the words we could barely process.
“Alisha! Chicken is more than two words!” Truly a birthday present from the gods.

Beer + Maple Syrup + Big Boobs = Uh Oh

Milf&Cereal — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 19:43:09 +0000

So it all started out as a typical evening does with my brother, friend, GF, and her BFF. We decided to have a few drinks whilst sitting around talking and having a few smokes outside on the front porch.

The girls were drinking Rum and Cokes as they are prone to do, and the boys had polished off a case and were now firmly into a second case when my GF decides she better go to bed as she has to work early the next morning.

Despite my GF retiring her BFF was having a good time so decided to stay and enjoy a couple of buttery nipples. Well the next thing I know the conversation has taken a turn down that delightful little highway we all know and love that will eventually deposit you right off in the middle of Pervertsville, USA. My brother was apparently driving the car this time as he decided he wanted to encourage the BFF to show my other guy friend her boobs.

My other friend being older at first respectfully declined, and the BFF was turning as red as a shopping mall Santa who just came back from a whiskey lunch, but then something magical happened. I don’t know if it was the collective carefree feeling we all seemed to have at that moment from excessive alcohol intake or if it had something to do with us arriving at Pervertsville, it really doesn’t matter because the next thing I knew a bet had been made. Life was about to get a whole lot more interesting as now the bet required us to move to the backyard and me to go get some maple syrup from the fridge.
So I won’t keep you in suspense, the bet was simple, my friend had been dared by my brother to do one lap around the backyard NAKED and in exchange he could lick maple syrup off of BFF’s boobs.

Everyone had agreed, I was standing a reluctant witness certain that everyone was going along with the charade in the hopes that someone would back down, and we would all stroll back to the front porch where the smells of citronella filled tiki torches, and outdoor lounge chairs would invite us all to sit back and allow playful drops of beer to frolic past our lips, titillating our taste buds along the way, like only a true lover can when BAM it happened. I hear my friend proclaim, “Uh OH!”

Ripped from my thoughts of beer, citronella tiki torches, and frolicking beer I looked up just in time to see inn stunned horror my friends shorts hit the ground and him casually turn to run a full lap around my back yard. Not just any lap I mean the kind of lap that you see in Chariots of Fire. Slow motion fined tuned in such a way that to this day when I hear the words Uh, OH put together my inner child screams for an adult.

The lap is finally done, maple syrup is out , and Houston it looks like we are gonna have boobs covered in syrup. Except then my brother explains to my friend that bff missed the whole thing and he would have to do it again since her back was turned. So I hear the now quickly becoming all too familiar “Uh, Oh” followed by shorts hitting the ground. The streaker is back in all his streaking glory.

This streaking took place a total of five times that night. Maple syrup was used, but not on her boobs. My friend woke up on the ground outside the next morning and yet everyone seemed to have a great night.

To this day I still can’t deal with maple syrup, or the phrase “Uh, Oh!” without curling up into the fetal position.

crazy journey to the bar

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 14:21:04 +0000

this story is kind of like the harold and kumar movie, only wih drinking.. alot of drinking!. it started when i woke up and got a beer, i went in my room and my friend was there, he wasn’t sure how he got there from the night before so we decided to just go out to our favorite bar. We were on our way when we noticed a party so we decided to try getting in. we got in and they had 3 fridges full of… you guessed it, beer!! we stayed and drinking for about 2 hours and left. we decided to pick up our friend on our journey to the bar. we ended up getting lost and ended up at a gas station asking for directions. 3 kids, around the age of 19 if i had to guess asked us to buy them beer, we agreed and then as we were handing it to them the cops pulled up, we ran and got away but the cops were talking to the kids. we were afraid to go back to our car, as we were already drunk, so we started walking to my buddies house. we finally got there and he was gone so we ended up drinking all of his beer while we waited for him to show up. He finally called and said he was already at the bar so we started heading there again. We still had no car so we were hitchiking. We were picked up by this guy (who was obviously drunk) and he just started driving without us letting him know where we were headed. we ended up going to some sort of private bar, im not sure what it actually was but there were people drinking and there was beer pong tables set up everywhere, turns out it was a tournament! My friend i was already with is very good, me, not so much but we entered anyway as the prize was the biggest keg i had ever seen! we ended up getting 2nd place and won a smaller keg which we drank within 30 min. and even though it takes alot of beer to make me start throwing up im surprised i hadn’t started from what i have drank so far. we finally got back to our car and made it to the bar and had another beer with my 3rd friend who drove us home after. the next morning i could hardly remember what happend but it was so fun i dont think anyone could forget no matter how much they have drank. but as for the hang over the next morning, i just did wats best, never stop drinking!

Dressed like a hooters girl is no way to go thru life, son.

Mon, 22 Dec 2008 22:35:54 +0000

One Halloween when I was in college all of my buddies and I decided to go out dressed as hooters waitresses. After drinking for many many hours one of my friends found a pair of handcuffs in the random house we were in. Obviously he thought it would be a good idea to handcuff himself. Once he realized nobody had the key to the handcuffs he ran out of the house and towards a cop car outside a nearby bar. He ran up to the cop wasted and dressed as a hooters waitress and proceeded to ask the police officer to take off his handcuffs. The cop looked at him really confused and noticed that he actually had one standard police issue handcuffs. Surprisingly the cop took off the cuffs and he took off running into the night before any questions could be asked.