Higgy can't hold his liquor...again (amended twice)

As I sit here fulfilling on my corporate duty of trying to recruit the best and the brightest college youth to my company, I have plenty of downtime to reminisce about my weekend back home. I go back at least once a year to my alma mater to give this test to graduating college students and at least once a year I feel further and further disconnected from the youthful exuberance I once had when I myself was a college youth drinking and fornicating in and around every campus orifice. Okay, that is a blatant lie. The majority of my college days were spent callousing up my dick with my hand with glorious thoughts of how I would plow through one college slut after the next after consuming massive amounts of liquor. Unfortunately for myself and your entertainment from this blog, I was a pretty tame individual compared to most and didn't come into my own until a little too late in my life. Basically I would have been over-qualified as a contestant of Beauty and the Geek. However I was able to get drunk and enjoy the company of friends, so I'm not living with any real regret as to missed opportunities.

Now when I visit and share some spirits with my brethren, I end up going too hard too fast and have to bail out early. Real early. So early my mother could've tucked me in and kissed me goodnight early. I just can't handle staying up all day drinking. So I've decided to chronicle the short-lived night I had out with my friends this past friday. The timing is probably incorrect but we started around 6-6:30 and definitely ended at 11.

Without further adieu, here are the events that took place in the probably the weakest tribute to all that is Tucker Max (http://www.tuckermax.com/).

6:30 pm: Arrive with my girlfriend at Mad Mex, a local campus bar/restaurant she used to work at. She gets greeted by every Gaping Hole and Nozzle in the joint as if it were Cheers. I stand in the background and let her get her 15 minutes of fame and adoration.

6:40 pm: Once she answers the repeated questions from the said Gaping Holes and Nozzles about her life after college even though they are douchy enough to not remember the reason why she moved in the first place, one of them finally has the foresight to think we may actually want to be served. This guy is definitely a standout amongst them. So immediately we go for their juggernaut, their "Big Azz" margaritas. This drink is sweet nectar straight from the Devil's tit. It is a deceptively strong drink that can make giggling school girls out of grown ass men.

6:50 pm: Our first drink arrives and down the hatch she goes. I always tend to drink these way too fast. This folks is what we refer to as foreshadowing.

7:00 pm: Hova and Mills arrive not a moment too soon. I needed a diversion from the fray of feminine hygene products coming my girlfriend's way. Immediately we begin discussing the finer points of the female vagina and Hova's newfound lust for it.

7:10 pm: Some delicious honey barbecue wings have been consumed much to the detriment of my health. Heartburn kicks in as I write this. I make an empty promise to curb my diet.

7:30 pm: Second margarita comes my way. I forgot how good these things tasted. At this point I make a reference to a joke I had made a previous evening about how vaginas always look sad and questioning how sad they would be if they had cleft palattes. Second to red hair, that is the one feature I am afraid my offspring will have due to my bad karma and overall disdain for all that is mutated. I really need to stop repeating what spews out of my mouth for the good of my children.

8:00 pm: Third margarita hits my throat. I can feel the acidic nature of the margarita eat at my already decaying enamel. At this point I am at "insecure drunk." A little more than tipsy at this point but easily upset by any disparaging comment, intentional or not said to me.

8:05 pm: Discussion begins about my blog and references to Entourage begin. We're drunk enough to believe that I'm going to make it big from this thing and how Mills and Hova would be my part of my entourage. We decide Mills would be Eric since he's the grounded, conservative one amongst us, Hova would be Drama because basically he's the wild-card and our friend Thomper would be Turtle. My girlfriend just tuning into the conversation says to me, "Why are you Vince?" I instantly take this as a slight against my physical appearance by saying things like, "Oh what am I not good looking enough to be Vince?" I instantly begin my defense mechanism which is to make half-serious, half-joking comments to her until she tells me I'm the finest man around. She tells me "You would be Turtle. I think Turtle is cute." That instantly sets me off for the remainder of the evening.

8:10 pm: I ask the waiter for the bill so I can cover the first half of drinking and my friends could cover the rest. I figured my per diem could cover it until I saw it. $69. Fuck. Well that blows. I guess drinking is on my tab tonight. You figure this kind of spending would curb my need to drink. Nope.

8:30 pm: My fourth margarita comes up and goes down the hatch even quicker than before. I am giddy around my friends but noticably distant from my girlfriend due to the "Turtle" comment. I am so petty when I'm drunk.

8:45 pm: Hova now has become a walking penis wanting to bang any girl who walks in. I see a girl I think he is eyeing and become noticably disgusted at the audacity she has to flaunt her "muffin-top." When I am disgusted, angered, annoyed, or feel someone is beneath me, I am unable to hide my reaction. My facial expression normally speaks volumes, which makes me not only a bad poker player but a bad person. Hova then corrects me and I am relieved. The girl he was looking at was cute. He does nothing about this. It's ok though because he is much less of a pussy than I was during my single days.

9:00 pm: The waiter asks us if we want 1 more round. Without much of a fight, we humbly oblige. Number 5 is on its way and at this point I am unaware of the consequences of my actions. But I soon will be.

9:05 pm: As my girlfriend attempts to eat a tortilla chip, Hovito knocks the chip out of her hand and states, "Don't come in here with that weak tot action." I proceed to giggle like a fairy. My girlfriend puts up with a lot of shit.

9:10 pm: My friends start throwing pieces of napkins into my girlfriend's drink. I block some of the napkins and waive my finger Dikembe Mutombo style. This obviously escalates things and whole napkins, looking like used tampons with aborted ova on them, get tossed into each other's drinks. This however does not prevent me from consuming mine.

9:30 pm: We decide to leave this restaurant and head to our normal closer bar, the Bier Stube. A complete hole in the wall we fell in love with during our college years due to it's rustic feel, cheap beer and incredible juke box. Heading to a closer bar at 9:30 pm --> more foreshadowing folks.

9:35 pm: We go buy cards at a convenience store, Hova annoys the clerks by messing with the door and making the doorbell play multiple times. He thrives on being awkward.

9:40 pm: We arrive at the Bier Stube and begin to play the game Asshole. If you haven't played it, it is a great game to belittle others, force them to call you their savior and then make them atone for their sins against you by consuming more alcohol. Needless to say I was praying to the gods of Hova, Mills and my girlfriend, who at this point I still think is a bitch for referring to me as "Turtle."

10:15 pm: I hit the wall. When I remark, "The room just got dizzy," I knew things were about the go awry. The massive amounts of tequila are striking back as reparations for the Mexican-American War. I immediately head to the bathroom which looks like the scene of a murder-suicide, wrap my arms around one of the most disgusting commodes I have ever seen, drop to my knees in several urine samples and stick my head into toilet lined with pubes looking like a porcelain vagina. I feel like a petrie dish with all of the different kinds of DNA on my body. I proceed to vomit for a few minutes. Mills comes in to guard the door as if to prevent a gang-style rape for which I am eternally grateful.

10:30 pm: I walk out to meet with my friends again and tell them that I need to get home. I am dizzy and definitely can't walk straight. My girlfriend calls me a pussy and tells me to go outside. I chill by the dumpster outside and my advocate, Mr. Mills comes to check on me. I tell him I need to go home and he soon brings out my girlfriend who proceeds to tell me. "It's fucking 10:30, do you seriously want to go home?" We head towards my rental car and she drives me home telling me how I need to pace myself and how I am a little bitch. She's not happy with me. This is payback for all of the times I've had to hold her hair and console her for being a sloppy drunk

11:00 pm: We get to the hotel and my girlfriend becomes the water Nazi shoving glass after glass of water in my gob. At this point I'm still pissed at her about her comment but I have no time to think as she's yelling, "Take out your fucking contacts." I love her.

11:01 pm: I proceed to throw up again, three more times. Each of these times I ended up ralphing through my nostrils. I imagine this would be the initial sting of doing a line a coke off of a stripper's ass but this is much less satisfying.

11:05 pm: My girlfriend cackles in the background, "I would blow you if you could actually get it up." Total bitch move but in hindsight I view it as well played.

So my friends, that was one of the weaker nights I've had. The next day I was referred to as beachfront property due to the massive amounts of sand in my vagina. The rest of the weekend was fairly tame. Thomper, Hova, and I made a BW3's waitress uncomfortable by arguing about the merits of using your pro football fame to stick it in women and about how burying menstruation does not honor dead babies but only attracts bears while T-Grange, Mills and his fiancee were uncomfortable by our discourse. Thomper, Hova and I came up with a sexual position called the "Texas Shootout" where two couples are fucking with the males backs to eachother and then whoever shoots his load at the other male's backside first wins the shootout.

God we are disgusting human beings.