Toilet humor

Drinking /dr'ɪŋk ing/ - v. To take a liquid into your mouth and swallow it, sometime referring to an alcoholic beverage.



No.



Imbibe /ɪmb'aɪb/ - v. To Imbibe alcohol means to drink it.



Technically correct…but no



Bender /b'endəʳ/ - v. If someone goes on a bender, they drink a very large amount of alcohol.



Nope.



Shit Faced /sh’it - f'eɪs’d/ - v Drunkenness, or inebriation, is the condition of being intoxicated by consumption of alcoholic beverages to such a degree that mental or physical faculties are altered or impaired.

Close.



Disintegrate /dɪs'ɪntɪɡreɪt/ - v. If an item or object disintegrates, it break into many small pieces or parts and is destroyed.

There it is.

This weekend my friends and I disintegrated.

Story time….

When I was 23 I went to Las Vegas with some military buddies and spent an entire night going from bar to bar, drinking my ass off and generally being an overall asshole to everyone I met. I was so bad that at one point the Taxi service I was using banned me from using their taxi’s. (you have to fuck up pretty bad in Vegas to accomplish this). In my own form of revenge (how dare they not serve me..don’t they know who I am!) I played what I thought was a pretty funny joke. When I came out of a casino I noted they guy who had called me in and told me I could not use the taxi service anymore was the last taxi in line. So I went up to the first taxi and not telling him my name I simply leaned in the window and said, “Hey dude, if I give you $20 will you give me a blow job in the parking lot of my hotel.” Needless to say he told me no in a series of colorful ways. I then walked back to the next taxi and did the same thing. I did this to the entire line of taxi’s. When I got to the last taxi, the guy who I was pissed at, I peeked my head in the window and said, “Hey man, I know I screwed up tonight with your taxi service tonight. I tried to get a ride from all the guys in front of you but as you can see, they just won’t do it. I promise to be good and I just need to get back to my hotel. I will give you a $10 tip if you take me.” Out of the kindness of his heart he said yes. As we drove by all the other taxi’s I looked over and smiled and gave them all a big thumbs up. I thought this was funny as hell. When my driver had gotten to the hotel he had heard all the chatter on the radio and had figured out what I had done. He said to me, “Someday asshole that drinking is gonna pay you back”. Who knew it would be 17 years later.

The saga continues…



A night full of power drinking with Horsemen is like an athletic event and should be prepared for weeks in advance. Despite all my prep work I was ill prepared. The only good thing to come from this was I learned, as I always do, some valuable lessons:

First and foremost I cannot vomit standing up without considerable collateral damage.

Second, if I utter the phrase, “I have not yet begin to defile myself”, I actually have and will be for some time.

and finally… AAA will not come pick you up if you are drunk. AA will not change a tire. AAA is for more tolerant of drunks than AA… but this is a story for another time

I awoke. I was very happy about that, because when I was trying to go to sleep it was 50/50.

I had be woken up by the narc who was standing right in front of my bed looking me dead in the eyes. He said, “Daddy, sheeesh…I am hiding.”

…Yes, that is correct….he woke me up to tell me he was hiding and to be quiet.

I tried to hit him in self defense but he was hiding in my blind spot.

Not sure if I had to vomit or pee, but sure that something was going to be leaving my body soon I staggered to the bathroom. Upon arriving a full blown argument began to take place within my temple. Feeling the slightest pressure aimed at my posterior I quickly spun around to sit on the toilet. This was quickly erased by a rumbling in my stomach and mid landing sequence I spun around to the full vomit position. As my knees hit the ground the nausea subsided and I again had to pee. I started the proverbial climb back up Everest to try and get back to my feet. Once gaining the summit I had to throw up again and I quickly tried to get my mouth close to the toilet bowl. As I bent over apparently the pressure now placed on my stomach push something around and I again felt pressure on my backside. Quickly I spun around plunking my butt down on the toilet. The jarring again caused me to be nauseas….I felt like a bomb tech dealing with a mercury switch on a roller coaster…it was only a matter of time before I tilted it to far one way or another and an explosion was imminent. Sitting, pissed off at the indecision of my body, I was calmed by the door swinging open. Fully nude I sat staring at the soggy one. For some reason this completely stopped all exiting procedures my body was currently going through. Although appreciative of the reprieve I was horrified to see him slap the front of his diaper. A sure sign he wanted to be changed. As modestly as I could I grabbed a towel and did what dads do. I man’ed up, grabbed the wipes, a diaper and my child and put him on the bed to be changed. I pulled the two Velcro straps from his diaper and it was then that I had realized I had just pulled the primary and secondary safety on this baby grenade. The smell that wafted into my nasal cavity embedded itself like a drunk driver into a pedestrian. I ripped my head away which felt like someone had unleashed marbles in my head and they were just spinning around and around. Drawing on every ounce of discipline I had, I forced myself to not fall over, pass out or throw up. Equivalent to the carpet bombing of Europe in WWII, I am not proud of the barrage of wipes on used on my son’s ass. I was however proud of not puking when hit with the 7 or 8 dry heaves and for not beating the narc to death for his constant John Madden like announcing of everything that was going on:

“Wow daddy, he pooped. That smells bad, hunh daddy. Ewww, that’s gross daddy. The way to take of a diaper is to take off the diaper. Your gonna throw that away now, hunh daddy.”

When all the deeds had finally been done I went down stairs to take some Motrin in hopes of getting some relief. My demons distracted with each other I looked forward to a brief moment of peace and quiet; little did I know peace and quiet was not downstairs.

Too far down the stairs to turn back I realized that my former supplicant had left out several of his loud toys. This immediately pissed me off because he knows better than to leave his toys out. One in particular is very, very loud. The last thing any hung over soldier needs is a freaking loud toy and no gun to kill it with. As if on command, as soon as I hit the bottom of the staircase it went off and just wouldn’t shut up. I tried to ignore it, but there was no way my head was going to let it continue. It was simply going to be one of those days….

The saga continues