Story Time!!!-Epic College Life

[TheCon]

Alright, I decided to post a story of my college days that was originally included in a series I called Face Books. There are 4 parts and they are long. If no one wants to read it or cries for cliffs just let the thread die. Enjoy:

Before I begin I would like to offer a brief warning. This Epic tale of alcohol-induced madness is not for the weak of heart. It is also not for anyone who is easily offended or dislikes profanity. If you would like to read an exceptional piece of literature with a good moral I suggest Catcher In the Rye. Finally, if you are the "OMG that is so offensive!" type, stop reading now, take your vagina, and go watch Sex in the City.

Part I

I have never been a big drinker, but when I drink I drink big. I'm kind of an all or nothing type of guy. Either I'm sitting around playing guitar or I'm raging like the apocalypse is upon us and St. Peter is holding a drinking competition in order to see who gets into heaven. I'd like to share one of those drinking experiences with you now. At this point one might ask, "But TheCon, why do you want to share this experience with us"? To which I would respond, "Because I feel like it." Now STFU and enjoy the ride...

This particular Saturday night started off much like any other. Being a college student, I had a few friends over my place and we were having a few drinks. No big deal. Around 10 O'Clock however, I decided to invite a few more girls over--just to get the party started. When they arrived, I introduced them to my friends. My friend Mike stood up and offered one of the girls his seat.

First, let me tell you a little bit about Mike. He is a good guy, smart (engineering major), popular with the girls, and has a great sense of humor. He is also built like a brick sh*t house and drinks like a madman. I mean seriously, this guy could drink a f*ckin' fraternity under the table...twice. So he introduces himself and the girls take a seat. After a couple of minutes I look over at him and our eyes meet. Immediately I see something twinkle in his eye. It's a subtle look, but it is one I have seen far too often from him. His eyes tell me what he wants. He wants to get sh*t faced.

He smiles, stands up, walks to the cabinet, and pulls out an un-opened handle of Jack that I bought the week prior. He looks at me. I look back. The girls have no idea what is about to happen. Mike smirks and then turns to me and asks softly, "Circle of Death?" I feel a rush of adrenaline throughout my body. I feel cold. The room gets quiet. All eyes are on me. All I can think is, "Mike you crazy motherf*cker," all I can say is, "Sure."

The girls are confused. The guys are on their phones calling everyone they know. "Wait, what is a circle of death?" one of the girls asks. I have no time to explain. I am already up, walking towards Mike and that gleaming bottle of fate he holds in his hands. My friend Ryan is explaining that Mike and I are going to attempt to finish an entire handle of Jack in a matter of minutes. The girls seem concerned at this point, but are just as ready as the rest to witness the spectacle. Before long, 15 more people arrive. As they enter they shout things like, "You are going to Die" and "Nice knowing ya." They all gather around Mike and I. The stage is set. I feel sick. Mike is still smiling. It is time to man up. This is a matter of Pride.

The first couple pulls were harsh. I'm a whisky drinker, but taking gulp after gulp of Jack is not a pleasant experience for anyone. Luckily, I noticed that Mike was taking two gulps at a time. He weighed a good 40 pounds more than me so I figured it was fair. Ten minutes later, half the bottle was gone.

I couldn't even hear the cheering of the growing crowd around me anymore. I was in the zone. Less than 20 minutes in, we were nearing the end. I was starting to feel pretty sick. Everything from my mouth down to my stomach was burning. Even Mike was slowing down. I though to myself, "There is no way we are going to finish." And then...it happened. One of the new arrivals piped in. He was a short skinny kid with a Sig Pi sweatshirt. He pushed his way to the front and yelled, "Finish it you p*ssy!" Mike stopped in mid gulp. We both turned simultaneously towards the skinny frat boy. Mike always had something against frat guys. I wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or bash the kids face in. I wasn't going to wait and find out. I grabbed the bottle from him and took 4 solid shots straight to the dome. Mike grabbed it back and finished the handle. He slammed the bottle down on the table. Cheers erupted. We embraced. Epic history had been made.

After several Hi Five's and hugs I grabbed a water bottle and retreated to the restroom. I felt a little dizzy, but was surprised at how functional I was. "That wasn't that bad," I thought to myself. I walked back into the main room and sat down on the couch next to Mike. Everyone was talking. The mood was light. I was proud of my accomplishment. All was good in the universe. Then 20 minutes passed. Then the alcohol started being absorbed into my blood stream. Then all hell broke loose...To Be Continued

[Billabong81]

Whats with all the weird symbols and question marks everywhere...

And Part 1 was fail, hoping following parts are better.

[JoshSP1985]

Whats with all the weird symbols and question marks everywhere...

That means he cooked some copy pasta. Symbols from other forums don't translate to BB.com sometimes and the default for a symbol that doesn't translate in the copy is a ?

If your question was rhetorical forget what I said.

[TheCon]

That means he cooked some copy pasta. Symbols from other forums don't translate to BB.com sometimes and the default for a symbol that doesn't translate in the copy is a ?

If your question was rhetorical forget what I said.

yea like is said it's from ********. I tried to fix it manually. Anyway way to fix it automatically?...or i could try to find the original. I started on my labtop and edited on ******** itself.

[qmotion]

moar

[maskmaskler]

nice... moar

[markusjj85]

omg in for part 2

[duskt3]

post the rest

[skret]

MOAAAAAAR plz

[JoshSP1985]

Oh god I'm so ****ing hoooked, I NEED MOAR

Already repped, waiting with anticipation.

[TheCon]

post the rest

Part II:

Approximately 25 minutes after splitting 1.75 liters of hard alcohol with Mike I started feeling a little dizzy. And, of course, by "a little dizzy" I mean REALLY F*CKING DIZZY! So, I decided to stand up and "walk it off."

In case there are any females reading this let me explain what, "walk it off" means. It is guy code for, "Man up, get your sh*t together, and get through this." Whether you just stubbed your toe or just got shot in the shoulder with an assault rifle, the correct mode of action is always to "walk it off."

This, unfortunately, did not work out well for me. My alcohol saturated system decided it would be a better idea if, instead of walking, I face planted onto a hardwood chair. This is precisely what I did. Two steps and BAM!

When I looked up I saw a beautiful brunette girl staring back at me...she looked horrified. "Oh dude you're bleeding," my friend Drew informed me. He was correct. My nose was now gushing blood all over our carpet. Great. Drew and Ryan helped me up and took me too the bathroom. After helping me wipe blood off of my face and stop the bleeding I stumbled back into the main room.

At this point I was beginning to lose all control over my body. I could hardly see. I managed to look around the room and soon noticed that Mike was nowhere in sight.

"Where Mike?" I asked like a slightly retarded Cro-Magnon. "He Left. We tried to stop him..." I knew there was no way anyone could have stopped him. My broken thoughts now turned to keeping myself alive. You see I have no vomit reflex. No matter how drunk I get I never puke. In most situations this is a positive. In this particular situation I was afraid it would lead to my death. All I could think of was water and food. What local establishment has water and food... Then it occurred to me. The Bronco.

Before Drew and Ryan said some pussy sh*t like, "Don't go bro you'll get hurt" or "The amount of alcohol you drank is lethal," I was gone. Every few steps I would fall or hit something. I mean seriously, sh*t was jumping out of nowhere. Walls, poles, people. Luckily my entire body was numb and I was lapsing in and out of consciousness.

As I approached the library, which is only moments away from The Bronco, I saw a large group of people walking towards me. I decided to walk on the grass in order to reduce the chances of running into them. This technique failed. As I walked on the grass I began to loose my footing. As I started running to avoid yet another face plant I plowed into one of the members of the large group. F*cking FAIL.

As I looked up I saw whom I had plowed into. A 6' 5" 300lb Tongan. EPIC ****ING FAIL. I didn't even think Tongans existed at Santa Clara. I mean this guy was a monster. Now this is the point in the story where I start making really good decisions. Since he was Tongan and I pretty much just bounced off of his Herculean frame he said in a relatively polite tone, "Watch where you're going buddy."

To which I responded, "Go f*ck yourself."

Like I said, brilliant decision. Mr. Tonga was not amused. Next thing I know he is throwing a looping right hook. His fist looked like a goddamn sledgehammer. I would like to say that I ducked it, but that?s not what actually happened. In reality I stumbled backwards causing him to miss. I then returned fire with a...well you can't really consider it a punch. I mean my fist was closed, but my arm was moving so spastically it was more like a flail. Plus a punch seems to suggest that ones eyes are open.

The Drunk gods were on my side this night. I felt the swing connect right on Mr. Tonga's jaw. He was so off balance from his missed punch he didn?t even see it coming. He dropped to the floor. Everyone, including myself, stood there for a moment in shock.

"Did I just one punch KO a 300 lb Tongan?" I thought. The girls in the group ran to help him. The guys in the group started walking my way. I wanted to run, but could hardly walk. Before I knew it, one of the guys in the front of the group was only a few feet away. He looked right at me and said, "Your done."

I looked right back and said, "Bring it mother****er."

He did bring it. So did around 5 of his friends. I threw a few "punches," but needless to say they did very little to fend off the assault. One of the bigger guys landed a good punch on my temple. Before I knew it I was on the ground getting stomped out. After a couple shots to the head, the tunnel vision began. I figured they would continue beating me until I was completely out and then leave me be. At least I hoped they would. Fortunately, they soon tired of kicking the **** out of me and left me lying there, almost unconscious, beaten, bloodied, and bruised. I looked up at the evening stars. A smile crept onto my face...To Be Continued

[JoshSP1985]

Anyone that skips over this **** because they're too pussy to read for 45-60 seconds is missing out.

[repos]

moar!!!

[CT4]

[TheCon]

Part III

I rested on the wet grass for a few more minutes. I needed to make sure that the mob had moved on. I didn't think I could survive another assault. The whole world felt like it was spinning out of control. I became angry at the stars.

"Stop f*cking moving stars!" I yelled in desperate frustration. They did not respond. I decided it was time to continue my mission. Food and water. After several failed attempts to stand, I was back on my feet, moving towards salvation.

My progress was slow, but steady--guratively speaking. I was basically just stumbling from fixed object to fixed object. I could really only take 2-3 steps at a time without falling to the ground. If a fixed object was more than 2-3 steps away, I attempted to crawl to it. Around 15 minutes later I had made significant progress (Note: The Bronco is like 50 yards from my dorm. The trip up until this point took like 45 f*cking minutes). When I made it to the stairs leading up to The Bronco I dropped to my knees...so close yet so far. I was looking up at an endless staircase. It was like I was standing at the bottom of an Egyptian Pyramid.

In reality, there were only 8 steps. Yes, that's right. I was only 8 steps away from The Bronco. There was no way, however, that I would make it alone. I was hurt, tired, and famished. I had nothing left. I laid down on the cold concrete and waited for death or sleep to take me away...whichever came first.

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, I felt something licking my face. I opened my eyes to see a ratty looking German Shepard licking the sh*t out of my face. My eyes then turned to his owner. He was a tall thin man with a long white beard. He was wearing many layers. He was pushing a shopping cart. He looked down at me. I looked up at him.

"You look like sh*t." He said.

This is when I started realizing my night wasn?t going well. I just got told I looked like sh*t from a 90 year old homeless man who probably hadn't showered since the Reagan administration. I was just about to show him my bloody middle finger and continue my trip into unconscious bliss when he did something totally unexpected. He put out his hand and asked, "Need some help?"

I didn't say a word. I grabbed his frail dirty hand and he helped me up. "Where you goin?" he asked. I pointed up the stairs to The Bronco. He then proceeded to grab my hand and walk me up the stairs all the way to the door.

I love this man.

"This is the end of the road for me." He said as he smiled. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty and handed it to him. He said not to worry about it, but I insisted. I then grabbed him, hugged him, and thanked him. Out of all of the people I saw that night. Out of the 100's of college students I passed, he was the one that helped. The homeless man with a ratty looking German Shepard.

Success. I did it. I was in. The first thing I noticed was the blaring music. I knew blaring music in The Bronco on a Saturday night meant only one thing. Club Bronco. For all of you non-Santa Clarians, Club Bronco basically turns our late night snack area into a hip-hop club. This pleased me because it was packed full of people. This meant I could use people as balance all the way to the line for food and drinks, which was located at the far end of the building.

As I began to walk into the crowd the whispers began. Then, the "OMG look at him." Then the dance floor basically parted like the red f*cking sea. This was bad. No support. No balance. I ate **** around 4 times in the 10 feet between the entrance and the line for food. Everyone was staring and laughing. I was laughing too. Not being able to walk is about as terrifying as it is hilarious.

When I arrived to the line I noticed something peculiar about it...IT WAS AS LONG AS CHUCK NORRIS' D*CK. That's right. It was approximately 8 kilometers long.

I wasn't about to wait in line for an hour. F*CK LINES.

I dragged myself right up to the front and politely asked the individual at the front if I could cut by saying, "Get the f*ck out of my way."

He and his lady friend obliged. Finally...I was standing face to face with the woman who would give me food and water which in turn would save my life.

"Can I have some water please?" I asked.

"Can you have order of peas?!" she said in a strong Spanish accent.

I almost lost it.

Peas?! F*CKING PEAS?!?! First of all they don't even sell peas at this f*cking place. There are about 4 sh*tty things on the menu and none of them contain peas. I mean I'm sure I was slurring, but c'mon. PEAS?! I decided to keep my cool and ask one more time.

"No, I'd like some water." I repeated

She looked puzzled. She starred blankly at me. I was getting impatient. Finally I just lost it.

"Listen b*tch. If somebody doesn't bring me some f*cking water in the next two seconds I'm going to jump across this f*cking check out stand and kill everyone in this godd*mn place. I am not f*cking with you. I will straight up go postal and kill every last one of you."

The line behind me had moved a good 50 ft away from me at this point. The lady was scared. The manager had heard the commotion and emerged from the back. He was a 6' 3" black man.

"What seems to be the problem here?" He asked

The guy with the lady friend that allowed me to cut spoke up, "I think he needs water." I nodded in agreement. The manager reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beautiful bottle of Aquafina. I almost cried.

"That will be $2.75" he said.

I reached in my pocket for my wallet. My stomach dropped. "Where the f*ck is my wallet?" And then it hit me. I had left my wallet on the sink in the bathroom when I was taking care of my bloody nose. I wasn't too worried about it when I left because I knew I had an extra $20 in my pocket. The same $20 I gave to my homeless friend. F*CK MY LIFE?.To Be Continued

[BT160]

Will read later. Seems epic

[JoshSP1985]

Epic, NEED MOAR!

[qmotion]

Less time in between parts, moarrrrrrrrrrrr

[TighTWhipS]

and then it hit me. i was cyklops

[markusjj85]

Seems like copy pasta but ill keep reading

[TheCon]

Part IV

The drunk gods had forsaken me. My mission had been foiled by a technicality. The manager looked at me and asked, "Is there a problem?" Before I could respond his eyes darted away. He was looking behind me now. He nodded. I turned to see whom he was gesturing at only to find myself face to face with two campus safety officers.

Their faces were stern. Their demeanor was harsh. "You're going to have to come with us," the taller of the two men informed me.

The gig was up. I only had two options, go peacefully with the officers or make a run for it. Either option would likely end up badly for me.

I felt a cool breeze come in from one of the side doors. Sweat dripped from my brow. The beat of the music pulsated throughout my body. I thought of everything that had led me to this Epic face off. The challenge, the epic history, the bloody nose, the KO, the beating, the old man.

I put my right hand behind my back and felt the cool bottle of Aquafina that was still sitting on the counter. I smiled.

The agents took a step closer. They were almost within arms length. My fingers slowly wrapped around the bottle of Aquafina. I had come so far; I couldn?t let it end like this. Never give up, never surrender. This is Spartan code. And I...

I am Leonidas

"F*ck it"

I grabbed the bottle and ran. I was surprised at my relative coordination. I guess the adrenaline sobered me up a little bit. I held the bottle of Aquafina like a football. I spun and darted around people waiting in line for their order to be ready. The agents were right on my tail. The next few moments will be described in the language of my broken thoughts during the escape.

The door, freedom, salvation, a guy with a pizza box, I can't stop, pain, ground, pizza everywhere, knee in back...EPIC FAILURE.

I had been so focused on reaching the door that I had failed to see the guy with a pizza box walking right in front of me. He failed to see me because he was too busy trying to sweet talk a girl that, incidentally, was WAY THE F*CK OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. After the collision I found myself lying two feet from the door with a campus safety officer's knee in my back. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK

They picked me up and began to carry me outside. On the way out I saw the guy I had run into. There was pizza all over his Abercrombie shirt. I felt bad for a moment. I seriously considered apologizing. Then I noticed the manager come over and pick up my Aquafina. I had dropped it during the collision. I looked back at Mr. Abercrombie.

"Maybe not tonight, maybe not a week from now, but someday my friend." I began. "Someday I am going to come to your room, wherever you sleep at night, and I am going to kill you. I am going to f*cking kill you dead for what you have done here."

The agents pushed me outside.

I wasn't fighting anymore. My spirit was broken. The safety officers took me street side and sat me in one of their white pickup trucks.

"Have you been drinking tonight?" the taller one asked me.

I looked up in disbelief.

"No sir, this is how I always look." I said sarcastically.

"Alright wise guy, listen" the shorter one was speaking now. "We could call our friends at SCPD and have you arrested right now for being drunk in public and assaulting that young man in there. Is that what you want?"

I shook my head no.

"Now listen," he continued "you look like you've had one hell of a night...Do you need medical attention?" He was speaking softer now.

Again I shook my head no.

"Alright" he paused. "Get in."

The officer gave me a stern warning and drove me back to my dorm. He really saved my as*. He could have easily gotten me kicked out of school for some of the sh*t I pulled that night. Instead, he chose to let me sleep it off. He made sure I got in ok (I had to call one of my friends because I didn't have my wallet), waved, and left.

As I stumbled back into my suite I immediately went to the sink and started gulping down water. Santa Clara water is more metal than anything else, but it tasted more delicious than anything I have ever tasted to this day. I then walked to the bathroom.

When I looked in the mirror I was seriously terrified. I took my shirt off and saw that the bruises were already forming. I couldn't take staring at myself anymore. I turned off the light and walked into my room.

My bed, my beautiful bed. Finally some res...and then I saw it. Mike was in my bed...with one of the blonde girls from earlier. I slowly closed the door and laid down in the hallway.

I woke up 9 hours later in the fetal position.

The hangover I experienced lasted 3 days. The first day I can honestly say was one of the most terrible days of my life. I'm pretty sure a chemotherapy patient would have had pity on me. After everything though, I can honestly say I don't regret a thing. The hangover ended, the bruises healed, and the night was one that I will never forget.

I leave you with a quote from...well from myself.

"Never pass up an opportunity to live EPICLY."

THE END

[DieselZ]

man i don't care

[Dr.Z]

Keep going...

So far so good

[hidden_fist]

story kind of sucks

[JoshSP1985]

Epic story I hope it's true.

[TheCon]

story kind of sucks

yea...guess you had to be there haha.

[TheCon]

epic story i hope it's true.

100%

[markusjj85]

How could you remember so much when you drank over half a liter of Jack? I would be so blacked out and not remember ****. How could you remember some dude was wearing an Abercrombie shirt? Or the conversations with other people?

[Pad264]

The story wasn't that epic, but it's clear you're a Tucker Max fan, so your mimicked writing style made it worth the read.

[Vitiell0]

How do you not regret a thing? lol that seemed like a ****ty night


your a good writer though