Getting fucked up at Taylor’s House, 2004!!!
For those not on the inside, the title of this post is a joke that dates back to Dec. 2002. From time to time, the subject of Zach, Eric, and myself getting intoxicated at my residence comes up. In the past, I have been hesitant to allow such festivities to take place. I imagined a grandiose scene where Zach gets so fucked up that he’s literally hanging from the ceilings. After the disaster that was (Not) Getting Fucked up at Taylor’s House 2002, Zach and Eric pulled an exaggerated stunt where they feigned inebriation upon an unsuspecting host.
Friday night, the topic came up again. Timidly, I began to formulate a plan that would be comfortable to all parties. I broached the subject delicately to my Mom. I said that both parties were twenty-one and had vast experience with the Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey. She agreed to give us a few hours to have a good time. In not so many words, I suggested that I myself might be partaking in some drinking.
The group came over around 8:00. We ordered a pizza from Papa John’s. Personally, I don’t see why that pizza is so popular. I do have a theory, though. At Dwyer High School, Papa John’s was the commercial food of choice. Compared to the in-house food, PJ was superb. Anyways, at around 8:45, the real fun commenced. Earlier in the evening, Eric had commandeered a bottle of Jack Daniels from his father, John. In an all-around awkward conversation, Eric mentioned that we would want some beverages to accompany the televised fisticuffs. That’s a five-minute encounter that should terminate from our minds forever with this mention on my blog.
Unbeknownst to me, I was being served slightly more JD than I had thought. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the truth nonetheless. In about a thirty-minute period, I’m told that I consumed somewhere between ten and fifteen shots of liquor. It’s not that I don’t remember, but I wasn’t the one doing the pouring. My recollection of the evening is vivid. I might have been scaring Eric a little. He was chagrined when I jokingly said that I wasn’t really drunk. I definitely had drunk a tad too much, but I was still in control of my faculties.
Overall, the night was relatively uneventful. The gang just wanted a place where they could get totally smashed. Zach was out of it from early on. Eric was pretty much okay. We watched three fights of HBO PPV boxing. I won the first fight of the night between Travis Simms and Bronco McKart. Then, my man Zab Judah knocked out some Mexican clown. Finally, in the main event Felix “Tito” Trinidad knocked out Ricardo Mayorga in the 8th Round of action. I’ve collected $2 of winnings so far, with $10 possibly coming later. In my semi-intoxicated state, I may have forgiven the debts of my comrades.
For some reason, I felt compelled to commentate on the main event fight. It wasn’t as much commentary as elevated ramblings. Every punch landed had me ejaculating to the core of my vocal cords. I wish I had given more insight rather than just saying “big left hook”, “right uppercut”, etc. That’s an embarrassment that hopefully nobody else outside of our group knows about.
After the fight, Zach won at the game of Upwords. I was in no state to compete with the brilliant vocabulary of the shyster himself. We proceeded back to the couches and went to sleep around 2:00. I’m told that Zach and Eric woke up around 9:00 and went home. It’s probably a good thing that they stayed instead of driving.
The big question is this: will there ever be a “Getting fucked up at Taylor’s house 2005”, or “Getting fucked up at Taylor’s house 2004, Part II”. I’d like to think it went well enough to warrant a return engagement. Next time, I’ll have to modify my habits. I should have spread out the drinking so that the bottle wasn’t vacant within twenty-five minutes. The saddest moment of the night, and maybe even my life, was seeing the bottle of JD sitting there empty and having no way to refill her. Alas, there will be another day and another bottle of 80-proof Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey.
One final note. From my limited experience with drinking, I’ll say that it hasn’t lived up to the hype. Perhaps it was a hype of own making. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. The experience has been more enjoyable and less distressing than previously thought. Basically, even consuming as much as I did last evening, I was in control of myself. I didn’t start crying about Katie or Adriana or John Kerry. If I did, someone please correct the public record. But I’ve learned things about myself that will be advantageous in the long run.
Friday night, the topic came up again. Timidly, I began to formulate a plan that would be comfortable to all parties. I broached the subject delicately to my Mom. I said that both parties were twenty-one and had vast experience with the Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey. She agreed to give us a few hours to have a good time. In not so many words, I suggested that I myself might be partaking in some drinking.
The group came over around 8:00. We ordered a pizza from Papa John’s. Personally, I don’t see why that pizza is so popular. I do have a theory, though. At Dwyer High School, Papa John’s was the commercial food of choice. Compared to the in-house food, PJ was superb. Anyways, at around 8:45, the real fun commenced. Earlier in the evening, Eric had commandeered a bottle of Jack Daniels from his father, John. In an all-around awkward conversation, Eric mentioned that we would want some beverages to accompany the televised fisticuffs. That’s a five-minute encounter that should terminate from our minds forever with this mention on my blog.
Unbeknownst to me, I was being served slightly more JD than I had thought. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the truth nonetheless. In about a thirty-minute period, I’m told that I consumed somewhere between ten and fifteen shots of liquor. It’s not that I don’t remember, but I wasn’t the one doing the pouring. My recollection of the evening is vivid. I might have been scaring Eric a little. He was chagrined when I jokingly said that I wasn’t really drunk. I definitely had drunk a tad too much, but I was still in control of my faculties.
Overall, the night was relatively uneventful. The gang just wanted a place where they could get totally smashed. Zach was out of it from early on. Eric was pretty much okay. We watched three fights of HBO PPV boxing. I won the first fight of the night between Travis Simms and Bronco McKart. Then, my man Zab Judah knocked out some Mexican clown. Finally, in the main event Felix “Tito” Trinidad knocked out Ricardo Mayorga in the 8th Round of action. I’ve collected $2 of winnings so far, with $10 possibly coming later. In my semi-intoxicated state, I may have forgiven the debts of my comrades.
For some reason, I felt compelled to commentate on the main event fight. It wasn’t as much commentary as elevated ramblings. Every punch landed had me ejaculating to the core of my vocal cords. I wish I had given more insight rather than just saying “big left hook”, “right uppercut”, etc. That’s an embarrassment that hopefully nobody else outside of our group knows about.
After the fight, Zach won at the game of Upwords. I was in no state to compete with the brilliant vocabulary of the shyster himself. We proceeded back to the couches and went to sleep around 2:00. I’m told that Zach and Eric woke up around 9:00 and went home. It’s probably a good thing that they stayed instead of driving.
The big question is this: will there ever be a “Getting fucked up at Taylor’s house 2005”, or “Getting fucked up at Taylor’s house 2004, Part II”. I’d like to think it went well enough to warrant a return engagement. Next time, I’ll have to modify my habits. I should have spread out the drinking so that the bottle wasn’t vacant within twenty-five minutes. The saddest moment of the night, and maybe even my life, was seeing the bottle of JD sitting there empty and having no way to refill her. Alas, there will be another day and another bottle of 80-proof Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey.
One final note. From my limited experience with drinking, I’ll say that it hasn’t lived up to the hype. Perhaps it was a hype of own making. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. The experience has been more enjoyable and less distressing than previously thought. Basically, even consuming as much as I did last evening, I was in control of myself. I didn’t start crying about Katie or Adriana or John Kerry. If I did, someone please correct the public record. But I’ve learned things about myself that will be advantageous in the long run.
1 Comments:
Did you have fun? This is the most important thing. Don't worry so much about all of this other stuff. Everyone makes an ass of themselves when they're drunk to an extent or it isn't fun.
Drinking is a little bit overrated. It is what you make it. It's certainly not a "party in a bottle" like you might hope. If you are among friends and looking for an interesting time, drinking can be worth doing every once in a while.
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