Now we all know that alcohol should be consumed responsibly or you can be in for a real crap storm. But in case you are sceptical about this belief, here are a bunch of Reddit’s CRAZIEST drunk stories. Maybe these will teach you a lesson and keep you from drinking too much. They may be slightly inappropriate; you might cringe. But they’re hysterical nonetheless.
So brace yourselves and check CRAZY drunk stories, because a hangover is not the only bad thing that comes along after a night of heavy drinking.
[Note: This article contains is NSFW as some pretty explicit details; viewer discretion is advised.]
1) Farewell parties and the Shenanigans
user/toingtoink survived this mishap which started out as a party.
Last day working in this company and my colleague organized a farewell drink at night. Before going there, shared half a bottle of whisky with another friend somewhere else. When I reached the club was a little tipsy. Seems colleagues told everyone in the club it was my birthday so there were endless cheering and thick whiskey given to me. By then I was almost gone as I couldn’t stand up properly. I was told to sit on a stool. Next thing I know someone was calling me “Mr. Tan, wake up! Time to go home!” I woke up in an emergency ward bed. It was morning about 9am. One of my colleagues was waiting for me. He told me I had slipped off the stool and to steady myself, pushed the table and the glasses fell and broke to the ground. I then fell head first onto the broken glass. An ambulance was dispatched. I had a deep cut on my forehead. On Monday I went to work in my new place with bandages on my forehead and a black eye.
2) Don’t Mess with the Bartenders
user/Im_a_shepherd is a bartender and here is his encounter with a bunch of drunken customers.
Had a guy walk out without paying his tab one night. The credit card he’d used to open the tap turned out to be bunk, so we couldn’t do anything about it. Cut to a few weeks later when he and his buddies came back into the bar for drinks. I told him that he’d left a tab open a few weeks before, and he’d have to settle up before I’d serve him anything. He acted put out, but paid the old tab off in cash gave me another credit card to open a new one. He and his friends then set into get wasted and run up another very large tab.
During their shenanigans, he thought it would be hilarious to throw his keys at me in an act of defiance. After I’d dodged the hastily thrown and poorly aimed projectile, I held on to the keys behind the bar. Presumably forgetting what he’d done, he and his friends skipped out on their tab again, and although I had pre-authorized the card when he gave it to me, it wouldn’t accept the large tab they had run up. Dumb bastard had to come crawling back into the bar when he realized that we still had his keys, and he proceeded to drunkenly beg us to give them back to him. He had to use two or three different cards to pay off the tab before we would give them back to him, all the while he was yelling at us for being dicks. He was subsequently perma-banned from the bar.
tl;dr Drunk guy hurls keys at barkeep, pays friends’ huge tab for their return
3) The Army Life
Woke up naked in the hospital; nothing more to say.
Active duty military, my first night at my first duty station, overseas in Europe, at the tender age of 18. Suddenly I’m magically of legal drinking age. A bunch of my new “friends” decided to treat me to a night out.
We go to a bar off base; I think it was called The Rose or something. Everyone’s ordering beer. I know nothing about beerbeyond the fact that it gets you drunk, so I don’t know if this is good beer or what. But I’m drinking like I’m a seasoned, 200 pound biker. (I’m actually a green, 130 pound n00b.)
Then one of my “friends” puts a clear drink in front of me, gives some slurry-worded toast in my honor, and down the hatch it goes. It tasted like licorice and burned like hell. I later found out it was Raki, and I only remember the first of the next four that I purportedly drank.
Last thing I remember was yelling, “Who the fuck is Max?!!!?” Then blackout.
Then a voice. A female voice…
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning.”
I actually felt good. Not hungover at all, and my first thought was to get up and get some stuff done (still had to in-process at my duty station). Then I open my eyes to see that I’m in a hospital bed, rails up, IV in my arm, and a team of military medical staff hovering over me. My clothes were on a chair, in a plastic bag that I was advised that I should just throw out. I had to call someone to go into my room and get some clothes for me, because under the sheets I was wearing nothing. They had to apparently cut me out of my clothes because I was covering myself in bodily secretions of all sorts. I had lost all functionality, and a Lt. Col doctor spent several minutes lecturing me how I was lucky to be alive.
I reported to my unit with my reputation preceding me. And I didn’t live it down the entire 15 months I was there.
4) A Bar-life Hero
user/SkorcherX pulled some cool acts while intoxicated. It’s not advisable, though.
So I got real shit housed while out with 3 other buddies. We were at this bar and it’s getting late. I had to piss real bad. On my way to the bathroom I noticed that the kitchen was like under a remodel or something, but was really accessible. So I go and take a piss, and on my way out mischief takes me over.
I wander into the kitchen and start ransacking the cupboards and drawers. I happen upon the freezer and find a huge box of jalapeno poppers. I tore that shit open and into the fryer it went. I heard it make a sizzling noise so I knew I had done it right (never used a fryer in my life).
As the poppers were cooking I found this huge rubber-maid tub (like the kind you put shit in and slide under your bed). Low and behold it was filled with tortilla chips. I found a brownish paper bag and filled it with chips. Then I felt it was getting late so I dumped the jalapeno poppers in the basket over the chips.
I smuggle this brown greasy ass bag outside to find my friends had been looking for me for like 20 minutes. “Where the f**k have you been?!” they asked.
I do the ‘Freddie Mercury stance’ with the bag of goods held high.
“What the f**k is in that bag?!”
“Where did you get it?!”
“I f*****g cooked it!”
“What like in the bar kitchen?!”
To be honest I didn’t even know they were jalapeno poppers until I ate one. They were f*****g delicious. We stumbled back to my buddy’s apartment downtown. By the time all of us got to the place we were all puking our guts out. It was a mess, stunk like jalapeno… blagh.
So now every time we go out this damn Drunk Renegade Chef story gets brought up. It was a pretty “like a boss” moment though.
5) Blame it on the A-a-a-alcohol
Alcohol makes you do things and user/inevitableanxiety didn’t hesitate.
It was getting towards the end of the night and we were en route to a strip club for reasons I still can’t figure out. We were driving with the windows cracked and smoking cigarettes. At this point, I was over half a fifth ofmaker’s mark in, and I could feel that all too familiar feeling. I was about 10 seconds from unleashing a hot and smelly tsunami of vomit all over the backseat of this enclosed vehicle.
Thinking quickly, I formed a plan in my drunken and panicked mind. “ALEX! It’s so hot back here; can you open my window a little more?” It’s happening. For some reason, I get it in my head that they can’t find out that I’m going to drain everything in my body onto the sidewalk. This secret must go with me to the grave.
“ALEX! I love this song! Can you turn it up?” I had never heard this song in my life, but no one was suspicious, so the plan forged on. I then unleashed a torrent of bile so violent that it rivaled the pea soup scene in The Exorcist. I finished my barf, and reveled in the fact that I had done it. No one knew, and I was FREE.
We got out of the car, and proceeded to walk into the club and enjoy an hour of watered down drinks and painted boobs. As we’re approaching the car, I hear it. A scream of rage disgust. With little to no foresight, I assumed the vomit would land on the ground, despite us driving 40 MPH on a highway. His car looked like someone hosed it down with exclusively post pizza vomit.
I needed an escape, so I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I was even more enraged. I couldn’t believe that someone could be that disrespectful. I entertained the idea that it was probably the loud frat guys who left before us, those assholes! Or bums! We just don’t know!
To this day, no one knows that was me and I regret nothing.
TL;DR- Got too drunk. Barfed all over the side of my friend’s car going 40 MPH. Lied. Blamed it on hobos or frat boys. It totally worked.
6) Sorry Mom
Sometimes even your parents will only tolerate so much. Learn from user/marvinlunenberg
The story takes place in December of 2011. I was invited to a nursing fundraiser at a local bar. At the time I was unemployed and living with my parents. Drinking heavily was part of my repertoire. Anyways I go to this bullshit event and quickly begin my quest to be the drunkest person there.
By the time I arrived, my friend and I already polished of a 12 pack each so we were already borderline belligerent. Then the cocktails came, then the wine, then the shots. So we were fucked. Being the cretins that we were, we casually (for whatever reason) spit repeatedly on this large plate glass window about 6 feet adjacent to our table. Stupid I know. Of course, the bar wenches see this and we are tersely asked to leave. I’d like to add somewhere in this middle of all this I went AWOL. To the corner store across the street, they found me sitting on the floor by the microwaves eating a microwaved sandwich.
We leave the bar, on foot, we were no longer welcome. My friend splits ways with me and I bid him adieu. I am all alone. A short while after, I am alerted to devious presence, in my drunken haze. I am accosted by 5-6 seventeen year old street toughs. Unable to talk my way out of the situation, I find myself in a one sided fight, and I get the shit kicked out of me.
I am drunk, this dishonors me greatly. I vow to get revenge. I stumble home and into my garage, I retrieve a bike from a hook on the ceiling, and a large stick from the garden. I am about to go beat the fuck out of these kids. My parents are awoken by the ruckus, and come to investigate the cause. I greet them with a fucked-up bloody face, slurred speech, zero motor skills. They tell me that I am not going. I was in a blood rage though; I had to recover my honour. It was a verbal and sometimes physical argument.
Anyways I subside, and go inside and pass out. In the morning they tell me basically to get out, and that drinking is destroying me.
There is nothing better than a hilarious compilation of people’s drunken endeavours, blurry memories and regretful decisions. Well, next time you decide to chug that 5th bottle of beer, remember these guys. They learnt a lesson for us all.