Last Thursday was ridiculous. Between the three of us, my friends and I had 2 bottles of wine and half of a bottle of Hennessey. Freaking ghetto.

The only things I remember are an ill-conceived drinking game based around Iron Chef America. Every time they showed judge Jeffrey Steingarten’s greasy-ass lips, we would drink. Then on Project Runway, every time Tim Gunn touched his face, we’d drink. Whenever someone smiled, we’d drink.

Woke up at 1AM, making HURRRRR HURRRR noises on their futon (leaving what was later delightfully described to me as a “squirtle” on the wall).  I tore off the funky futon sheet in horror, clutching it to my chest. Then I immediately forgot I’d already taken the sheet off, and HULK-LIFTED the mattress, scrabbling to find the sheet.

Then I decided since I couldn’t find the sheet, I should take the whole futon mattress OUT OF THE APARTMENT. More HULK-LIFTING. Then, “Jesus christ this is freaking heavy, eh?” so I just ended up feebly flipping the mattress over and over again, still trying to find the sheet.

I called a cab service to come get me in motherflipping Harlem. I was crying for some reason, and my drunk-voice sounds like the voice of a retard with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. The dispatcher kept asking me if someone had kidnapped me, or if I was being held against my will. “NOE, I JUSS DRAUNKKK, I nee to go hooooommm,” I moaned in my retard-drunk-voice. The cab finally came, and the disgusting horked-up sheet was still clutched to my chest, but I wouldn’t notice it until I got home. When I got home, I realized that I wasn’t even wearing shoes — only socks.

2:15 AM. I tore off my clothes, threw them in the bathtub, and went to bed. When I got up for work the next morning at 8, I woke up in a sandwich — I had somehow crammed myself in between the bare mattress and the fitted sheet. The elastic was holding me in like a pita pocket.

I think I win the 2009 award for WORST DRUNK EVER!!!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 15th, 2009 at 11:21 AM and is filed under Drinking Games, I'm a Drunk. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.