So, way back in 2006 I turned 24 and my roommate and I decided we were going to throw a house party. After we saw the disappointing Cameron Crowe movie Elizabethtown we decided to take something positive out of the film and have a bathrobe and beer party based off of a scene where two of the characters are wearing hotel bathrobes and have beer bottles in the robe pockets that clink together. So we got this party together, told the neighbors who invited more people, got my roommate’s favorite band Shaped Like A Gun (SLAG for short (see links page to check out their awesomeness)) to agree to play on our patio with a full drum kit, and loaded the sink and coolers with ice and beer. The drinking began. One of my best friends got me a card that had a cut out Batman mask. More drinking. My roommate had to leave to go on some crazy late night meet and greet job interview thingy. The band played a set including a new song that I loved called Sweet Tooth (Still waiting for them to record it). 11:30pm the band finished their last song and now I’m wasted and am being told that the cops were out front. I stumbled out to my front lawn still wearing a bathrobe and greeted the policeman that awaited.
“Are you the owner of the house?” He asked.
“I’m the renter.” I drunkenly answered.
“Well, we received SEVERAL noise complaints.”
“Oh yeah, it’s my birthday, we had a band play in our backyard, but they’re done now.”
He advised me to have everyone go inside and shut all the windows and doors. My roommate returned and found string so I could now wear my Batman mask. More drinking. My roommate got me a delicious red velvet birthday cake and convinced me (not hard to do when I’m drunk) to take a large kitchen knife and bring the cake to our neighbor’s. Ate yummy cake. More drinking. The night wound down and the world slowly began to spin around me. I actually didn’t feel that bad but used my better judgment and climbed into the bathtub as an in case of vomit precaution.
“The bathtub?” You ask. Most people question my drunken relationship with the bathtub, but don’t knock it until you try it. To me the bathtub is a way better place to vomit because I can lie down and curl up into the fetal position with my face in the drain and wash down the vomit as it comes. I don’t want to be sticking my face in the toilet where so many people have had their asses and have shit their brains out into.
My lovely roommate brought me water and a bagel and documented the event on video. I truly believed that I was going to be fine after a few minutes and even made plans to join her to watch a movie. As time went by she continued to check on me and I started to feel tired and just want to vomit and get it over with. I finally gave up, stuck my fingers down my throat, and went to sleep.
The next morning I thought I woke up completely fine (I’ve only felt sick the day after drinking once and there was some shady Jack in the Box involved) until I looked in the mirror and saw my eyes. One eye was half covered in blood and the other had specks of blood in it. Turns out I had vomited so hard that I popped a blood vessel in my eye. I had literally partied until my eyes bled.
Click the link below to see the video and be sure to “Like” the Facebook page while you’re there.