Well this past weekend was something to behold. The amount of alcohol and pills consumed would have Hunter S. Thompson shaking his head in amazement and ebarassment. Such a weekend can only be had with the help of one of the finest boozehounds I know, Sir. Dave Harper. A day spent with Dave is assumed to be hard drinking, lots of fun, and the expectation of a ruined following day. Very rarely have I spent a full weekend with the guy, and I am now under the recognition that my 27yr old organs can possibly no longer keep up with such irresponsibility and destruction; but for the sake of a great story I suppose it's worth it.
Friday night my roomate Ryan had his next to last night at his bar gig across the street. At the end of his shift they gave him 6 Das-Boots from they're most recent promotions. 6 giant glass shoes for hard core beer drinking. Friday was a short night for me however and after a couple movies and drinks I quietly went to bed, but the boots are freakin' cool.
Saturday morning I woke up, cleaned up, took care of some home business, and started the video game + cocktail early afternoon. 3 drinks in and Dave stops by from work. Davey lives a decent drive to the East of me, but his place of business is next door- as a bug guy. In the mornings he drives to wherever the problem is in a company truck and sprays for roaches, scorpions, spiders, whatever little critter ails your home. So at 2pm he drops by, both of us with empty stomachs, and decide that we should have a few drinks before we start our adventure. 2 drinks a piece and it was off to adventure. But before we hopped into his bug-mobile, a great idea occured to us. Make a cocktail for the road- with a boot. Because before you officially do a little drunk driving you should always pour a giant 54oz vodka and cherry soda to take along with you. Especially whilst driving a company vehicle.
To the road we go, dropping off the bug-truck and then making our way to the Superstition Mountains out East at Dave's place. 54 ounces must have been the perfect amount because the last sip of the boot was finished off just as we pulled into his driveway. Now that we had arrived it was time to grab his girlfriend and go out to the new bar that opened up a few blocks away and have some wings and a burger for dinner. And 2 pitchers of beer. It should be noted here that before I even got to the bar I was feeling quite inebriated and was just drunk enough that I was damn near surprised to see that they were even serving me. Kick ass.
Back to Dave's with a dozen wings in the guts it was back to cocktail time. A friend of Dave and Rachele's showed up and we now have a fresh half gallon of vodka, a fifth of whiskey, and a 12 pack of brews. Normally this would be enough for a weekend's worth of work for a small family of 4 drinkers. Godamn I hate miscalculating. Dave dropped his pants early on and shook his cock about for a great naked shock value joke. Several games of hillbilly golf went down with several drinks. We started a campfire and played some guitar. We told some stories and laughed a little harder as the booze gauge began to burst at the seams. I have mentioned in the past some of the exploits of this household, and one of the knacks you will find at Dave's is that they have costumes- lots and lots of costumes. At some point in every drunk driven evening these costumes will come out, you can bet on it. They have 2 fine ones that are full bodied ketchup and mustard bottles. Awesome.
At some point in the evening Dave and I began to get a little low on smokes and we took the short trip next door to the gas station. Naturally Dave wore a mining light on his head in lieu of a hat- this is normal for Dave whether he is sober or not. Going into a store with Dave is the most unpredicatbly frightening thing you will ever experience, he truly gets off on making clerks piss their pants and does his best to make them just uncomfortable enough that they're worried- but not so uncomfy that they ring the cops. So he starts getting into it with the clerks about how he's trying to start the new 'I'm a miner' look and how convenient it is when you're in a dark place looking for your keys, drink, or whatever. With my face full of blood we got back to Dave's unscathed and when I went into the backyard I could see Dave dragging the infamous lifeguard chair from the Baby Pool Party over to his neighbor's wall. Dave and Rachele do not know this neighbor, all we can tell is that they have had music going all night long. Well, all night may not be the right words here, it is only 8:30PM at this point.
We began to play Digital Camera Photo Hunt, one of my favorite drunken games where one person demands you get a picture of 'X' and it's your job to be as creative as you can to retrieve said picture. 30 minutes into the game someone (stupid memory...) asked to get a picture of Miguel in a deviled-egg costume. Now I would assume that this is an incredibly difficult task to get a complete stranger in a devilied egg outfit that looks totally rediculous, and have him being ok with a permanent photo of said Mexican. Not at Dave's house. Dave instantly had Miguel convinced, and slapped this terribly goofy giant round white wool costume over the guy, complete with giant yellow yoke on the front, and rounded off with a devil's tail coming out the rear end of it.
Naturally I got into the costume phase of the night too, got buck naked and jumped into the ketchup bottle outfit. Why the naked thing had to happen I'll never know but I think I was trying to keep up with Dave's earlier random buck nakedness. A few party goers had mentioned wanting some pills, and Miguel came through. He told them that he had a shit ton of Vicadin over his place for some injury he sustained, but if they came over they had to be quiet and not rouse his wife and 5 kids. Dave and Rachele went over, and Miguel dumped an entire fistful of pills in their hands. 4 lonely pills would have been incredibly gracious. 25 may have been exuberant. Down the hatch went the Vikes and now things began to get fuzzy. I generally don't do drugs but will admit that a Vike every now and again has the ability to put a smile on my head. This is not late at night at all yet, but the fuzzy heads of drunk humans consuming 5 Vicadins at a time was taking it's toll. I found Rachele asleep on the chair in the living room, and decided to pick her up and put her to bed. I came back out, had a drink with Dave, and watched him melt onto his concrete patio. Once again I threw an arm around him, picked him up and put him next to Rachele. 30 more minutes and I was sound asleep too- the last thing I recall is realizing that I wanted to sleep in a bedroom not on the couch- but I could only find an air mattress which I drug into the bedroom that 'Cooch'-our 4th partier that evening- was sleeping. I was too hammered to figure out how to find a flat part of the room to land the air mattress so it ended up on such an angle that I couldn't see (why didn't I wear the damn mining light?) so that when I laid down I rolled right off it and face planted onto the ground. Considering to surrender to the carpet I remember that there was an entire other unused bedroom waiting for me. Stupid me. A good night sleep awaited with a little Vicadin demon stroking my head.
Sunday morning came with a night of 8 hours of rest. I was up at 7am. The standard water + aspirin + pancakes + bacon on a post Dave's house evening was taking place. Dave smoked a cigarette and it instantly caused him to vomit in his backyard. I made a few early morning phone calls and when I returned into the house everyone had gone back to bed. I am a trooper though damnit and I don't return to sleep! Football pre shows, setting fantasy football lineups, and eventually Dave woke back up. 10:15 am and it was time to punch the gift horse in the mouth. We inspected the kitchen to find 8 beers. No whiskey. No Vodka. Pound for pound including the drinks Dave and I had at my place and the bar and the boot on the ride over, we drank over an entire gallon's worth of pure booze and a handful of beers. Top that Robert Downey Jr.
Luckily I was once a boy scout and had snuck two flasks into my over night bag filled with vodka, and the cocktailing + football began. After an Eagles win and a Bengals win we were back on the party wagon. Just as the second flask kicked it, a pair of Dave's friends showed up with a 30 pack and a handle of vodka. Then Dave and I managed to get through the majority of a Spirit Merchants set for the meager crowd- but we've played for less! We haven't played in 5 months...it was awesome...
Naturally Dave walked out into the middle of our soire bare ass naked holding his junk in his left hand and smoking a cigarette with his right. At the end of the long Sunday I was starting to fade when the evil hiccups took control of my body. For those of you who know me if there is a hiccup involved in the Greg then lunch is coming up. I now recognize the problem and surrendered to vomiting also in Dave's backyard before the white flag went all the way up and to bed I went, just to wake up to dave at 6am for a lift home across the city. What a friggin weekend.
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