ShotQuest: Saturday Edition

I'll preface today's edition with a little fun fact: Paul is currently passed out next to me while I write this. I came home from the library (being the studious scholar that I am) to find a rather large creature sprawled about my mattress. Indeed, it happened to be Paul, who woke up still drunk and then proceeded to drink unknown quantities of Natural Ice until he wound up in the position that he is in now. Paul and I originally had plans to journey to Saginaw Valley this evening, in hopes of making aquaintences with some female friends that Paul has there. Somehow I don't think this excursion is anywhere in Paul's immediate future, though.

Anyways. . . Reader, I dare say I underestimated the amount of shots that I am capable of drinking over the span of one weekend. When I began this endeavor, I was skeptical as to whether I would be able to reach the 40 mark in shots (considering mixed drinks, beers, and other mind-altering substances on the side). However, last night qualmed any fears I had about coming up short of the 40 pinnacle.

According to the sheet I kept from last night, I amassed 20 shots last night. I can only vouch for 18 of those, considering the haze that began to fill my memory. After I left the house to venture to the street they call Greenwood, I simply don't remember what I drank. So we shall say I will begin tonight's efforts beginning with shot number 29.

There is one piece of nearly unlegible literature from the sheet that I would like to share with you, as it will give you a notion of what kind of state of mind I was working with last night. I do not remember writing this at all, so take it as you wish. It reads, in bold letters: "12:25 a.m. - I am as black as Martin Luther King Jr." I don't plan on tonight being any better.




(BOX house - 10:01 p.m.)

For those of you sitting by your computer continuously clicking the refresh button of this blog (I know about a 1,000 of you are) waiting for me to update this blog constantly, let me give you a warning. This may be the first and only update I give this evening, because if things continue to go the way they are, I may be unable to perform motor skills in about one hour.

I've already done 10 shots, am probably drunk already, and here they are. The first one is a doozy.

29. To my childhood physician. This man also conveniently happens to be Andy's uncle (this is before I ever met Andy - small world). Anyways, imagine your childhood physician walking in the front door of your house to see you chopping up lines of Adderall with a credit car/ snorting these lines. . .It pretty much screams, "Hey doc, remember me? I was healthy as a youngen', but now I've resorted to drugs and booze as my means of recreational fun". Here's to you, doc.

30. Ulysses S. Grant - proving that drunk everywhere can in fact be successful. But this is not the reason I love the man. The reason I live President Grant is because he has stated that his favorite alcohol is in fact Old Crow Bourbon Whiskey.

31. Zack Novak. The man elbows Ohio State bitches who deserve to be elbowed in the face. Also, I happen to have a man-crush on him. (side note: recently I made a terrible bet - in which I bet $1,000 dollars the Novak would have his jersey retired at Michigan. I hope it happens)

32. Michigan Baseball! PLEASE SALVAGE SOMETHING, ANYTHING FROM MY JUNIOR YEAR OF COLLEGE. PLEASE. I will be drunk at the Fish every game this spring, that is a promise.

33. Michigan football. No matter how many tears I've shed over you, you alone made me have ambition in high school. Now, I will at least have a degree from the University of Michigan no matter how big a failure I am at life.

34. Al's Dad. "THE MAN"- enough said.

35. To Al - my best friend. He is such a good friend that he handed me tissues while I was vomiting up every line of Adderall I took just now.

36. Chewin tobacca'. And also to the two biggest supporters of this cash crop that I know: my fine roommates Matt & Paul.

37. To losing my voice - because I've been barking like a dog the past three nights whenever I've been intoxicated.



I'm off to get dark.


(8:32 a.m. - I woke up in Al's bed shivering my timbers off; Al found himself in a similar fate, as he woke up in my bed. I don't know how this arrangement was made, but I am in no position to ask questions at this point of my life)

As I was clearly too blackout to make any updates last evening, I will publish what my list has to say this afternoon.

38. Chewie and his 70's porno mustache. (I think at this point I started blacking out, because I have nothing to say about this)

39. "Don't take my word for any shots after this point. I will have one of my roommates sign each of these from now on".

- To Rich Rod

40. FLASBO9

40. Yes, I did two number 40's for the some reason. I think it was because I lost the first sheet I had, and then got a new one.

To Mike Gundy, Oklahoma State head football coach: "I'M A MAN! I'M FORTY!!!"

(By the way, I think this puts me at a grand total of 46).

41. "I HEART DIXIE"

41 1/2. Sav is doing one of my shots to Catholic Central. And he puked.

42. "Every fuckin' Iraq soldier - you are braver than me. I salute you"

43. "I'M BLEEDING EVERYWHERE" (I'm not sure if I did this shot or if it was more of a statement about things happening at the moment (indeed, my shirt is covered in blood this morn)).

44. Chris giving me moral support. "God knows what # shot I'm on" (I wrote this statement while the number 44 was clearly visible directly to the side. ?)

45. While I would love to make number 45 public to my readers, I have been advised by my roommates not to post this particular dedication. It is simply way too offensive. I'll just leave it at that.