I used to drink tequilla...

Apparently, every true veteran drinker has a story that starts with this. Well, it's time to see if we have any of those around here. Plus I figured that with the holiday season coming to an end soon, it's the perfect time for people to post drinking-related stories. Perhaps as a warning.

So whether you want to tell us about your worst alcohol abuse, or about that time when you woke up in a farmhouse 3 provinces away (or states, or departments, or fiefdoms or whatever, depending on where you live), this is the place to do so.

Unfortunately, I don't have much. There is, however, that time I ended up in the hospital. It was in late spring this year (2006), and people from school had organized a party to celebrate the end of the year. It was open bar, but I strongly dislike shots, which I knew is essentially all they'd have, also meaning the alcohol would be stuff like white rum, tequilla and amaretto (the latter being the one and only liquor I absolutely hate, to the point of having puked at the mere thought). Not too interesting. Now, what I did is, I went to the liquor store before the party started, got my own bottle of rye whisky, and brought it there. I figured I'd share, and I'd get a glass or perhaps two at most before the bottle was empty. However, very, very few people were interested. As time went one, I found myself being essentially the only one drinking from that bottle, and while I was busy explaining quantum mechanics to other people (you'd be surprised how much more sense it makes when you're drunk, and people really do seem to be following you), I kept drinking without really noticing. The end result was that I pretty much drank the whole bottle myself, and quite fast at that. From this point on, I remember very little, if anything, but apparently, I was talking in english (keep in mind that this was in a small city in Quebec, where everyone speaks french), and doing what people later told me was "the best Joseph Stalin impersonation they've ever seen". Eventually, I'm not sure how, things ended up with an ambulance trip to the local hospital. I do seem to remember the ambulance guys giving me a shock or two. Those guys sure as hell know how to party.

The aftermath was me waking up in an hospital bed. While I did not have the immense luck of getting a stomach pumping, I did have the rather unwelcome opportunity of using gravol. In suppository form. I ended up spending the whole day puking anyway.

The lesson is, quantum mechanics is fucking dangerous and should only be approached when sobber.

Alright, that was longer than I wanted, now I want other stories. Oh, and I guess the mods should feel free to move this elsewhere if they want to, not that they need my permission to do so anyway. I'm just not sure where the best place for this thread is. I figured The Kitchen would do.

Jam it back in, in the dark.