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The product of an evening of boredom-- Your worst drinking experience.


TRIBE Member
Its a bit of a read, but might prove entertaining:

The worst drinking experience I've ever endured happened when I was 15. It was a summer Saturday evening, not two weeks after getting my cast off. Did a real number on my knee that year, playing yeah--you guessed it-- badminton. That's a whole other story, but suffice it to say that it left me with leather armpits, two worn crutches, and an atrophied match stick for a leg. When I tried to walk on it, holding the crutches in one hand, I resembled a hairy pogo stick with a kick stand. This was just a minor setback for a self-proclaimed invincible 15 year old! It was my first night out with the boys in nearly 8 weeks-- 8 WEEKS! I was gonna get shit-faced. Suck it up, buttercup, its go-time!
When you're 15, you're not about to crack open a case in front of the tube, feigning indifference to dear old Dad. When you're 15, you'll drink just about anywhere else, including a small clearing 100 feet down a steep incline on the Scarborough Bluffs. When you're 15, you haven't really developed a taste for beer and you're pretty low on cash. Luckily for you at this point you've managed to grasp percentages, so a beer with 7.9% alcohol content makes perfect sense. Luckily for you, you don't have a fear of heights. My luck ran out there.

I managed to hobble my way down there, the not-so-tiny Tim of a bunch of beligerent rowdy teenagers. We called this place The Pit, probably because it held, among logs and mouldy couches to sit on, a large firepit. With rainy weather merely a shrugged off circumstance, we were down there just about every weekend. We smoked, we drank, we fought, we did the kind of revelling in our might that only youth can afford.. I was a slightly nerdy but tolerated newcomer that summer, and on this night, an understandably morbid source of amusement.

I put away 9 beers in an hour and a half. Somewhere between my 4th or 5th bottle my leg was bothering me, so I popped a Tylenol 3. This story is about to go a whole lot faster from here so hold on. After almost falling from one of the ledges, the guys decided the log far from the edge would be a better idea. I sat beside that log in an upright fetal position for what seemed like hours. I was doing everything I could to steady the rollercoaster of a buzz I had on, which seemed perpetually stuck in the loop de loop. The car eventually derailed, and I know exactly how many times the passengers were flung from the seats. How do I know this you ask? I know this because my friend at the time-- we'll call him Madam Belfort, screamed aloud each time they crashed to the ground. THAT'S ONE, THAT'S TWO, DAN JUST PUKED EIGHT TIMES!!!! Conveniently enough, the ugly drunken creature that had also possessed one of the others, prompted them to throw one of my crutches in the fire. I later heard that someone pulled it out quickly and beat the guy with it, still flaming. It was definitely time to go home, but how?

I crawled through the darkness to the top, which probably took about half an hour. When I got up there, I saw another "friend". He sat me up against a bush, sensing my state of absolute deleriousness. Not wanting to miss a golden opportunity, he mentioned that he had some friends coming, and that if I didn't hide, they were going to take my shoes. "Don't let them take my shoes, friend!", I cried. This was followed by my upper body crashing through the bush, as if it was only now sensing that a bush wasn't substance enough to hold the weight. So now I was half-in-half-out of the bush, and dry heaving the last remnants of spicey liquid left in my stomach. It was definitely time to go. I yelled down into the darkness, "Guys, when are you going to help me get home??". There was a silence, and then the echoed reply, " Haaalf an Hour our ur r".
I got up, brushed myself off and took inventory. Let's see, 2 bus tickets, one slightly charred crutch fully operational, one crutch with critical screw missing, rendering it inoperable, and a dollar and a half. It took me a half hour to limp to the nearest main street. By that time, my leg was throbbing, so I decided to call for a ride home.

"Hi Dad?"
"Yeah, do you know what time it is?"
"It's Dan"
"Yes, I know. What's wrong?"
"It's Dan"
"What do you want!??"
"Uhh, Dad....I'mreallydrunkandoneofmycrutchesisburntandi'mreallydrunkandIcan'tmakeithomecanyoupickmeeeuuuuuuuppp???"
"WHHAAAAAAAAT? I'll be there in 10 fucking minutes!"

He screamed at me for the entire 20 minute ride home(I'm sure he was driving 40km/h) and I don't remember a damn thing he said. All I remember is rocking back and forth like an escaped mental patient repeating "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry". I spent another hour at home prayin' to the porcelain deity, and finally passed out. I awoke suddenly and painfully 4 hours later to the metal ring of pots and pans being smashed together. "Time to get up, buttercup!". he yelled, grinning ear to ear. I knew what I was in for. Bad leg or not, he put me to work that day, and i'll never forget it.

I learned a couple of valuable lessons from that night and subsequent punishment. I learned that you should never mix beer and codeine, and that friends are only as good as their willingness to pull your crutch out of the fire.

Alex D. from TRIBE on Utility Room
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TRIBE Member
In university I was at a friend's apartment and drank too much of the evil that is lemon gin...mixed it with Sprite, couldn't even taste it. Ended up crawling down the hallway from the spare bedroom to the washroom, puking approximately 6 times while everyone else continued with the party and laughed at me. When I passed out on the pull-out couch, it was still just a couch...but when I woke up the next morning, I was sleeping fully clothed on the folded-out bed, with my roommate next to me, and a dachsund lying on my leg and staring at me intently. Then we went for breakfast and I thought I was going to die. Haven't touched lemon gin since.

No embarassing incidents in public, thank god...I tend to watch myself much more carefully in bars and I don't drink as much because of the cost.



Well-Known TRIBEr
I've been fortunate, never had a true yard-sale in public, or private. Puked on a couple of people, but that was their problem


TRIBE Member
The first (of many) was at the tender age of thirteen. My brother had just come back from a holiday in Corfu and brought a bottle of tequila back with him. I was going to a party and he decided that it was time for my first taste of the golden spirit. So, without knowing what the taste was like, I chugged a small plastic bottle holding about 10 shots. The taste was foul but the lemon he shoved in my mouth afterwards took that away. The walk to the party was fine and I didnt think that tequila was all it was cracked up to be- until about 20 minutes later. Outside the party I saw a group of guys drinking and I mistakenly approached them thinking they were my friends. They were the birthday girl's brother and co. who proceeded to give me a couple of beers. I then walked/staggered into the party and with a rather rosy glow wished the lucky girl a happy birthday, gave her a present (an LP entitled 'This party sucks'!) and then ... fill in the blanks.

This gave me a few lessons in life:

1. Never ever smell a drink before you consume it if you suspect that it will taste bad.
2. Don't insult a girls party. Ever.
3. Big brothers corrupt you.
4. Girl's big brothers corrupt you.
5. Im a sucker for a challenge.



TRIBE Member
I was about 5 years old. My dad had a few cans of beer sitting in the fridge. I decided I'd try to be a Cool Grown Up and drink one. When my mom came home about an hour later, I was still sitting on the kitchen floor drunk out of my gourd on 1/2 a can of beer.

I got the living shit beat out of me.

But it was worth it.



TRIBE Member
That remind me of my cousin who decided at four and a half that he would be ok to eat liqueur chocolates, and then laughed my ass off when he spat it out in disgust.

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TRIBE Member
11 pitchers of beer.
Green Room.
Scarborough sports bar.
Handjobs in the back of a dingy dive.
Locals coming on to us.
Someone's mom screaming at us for throwing rocks at some friend's window.

I guess it wasn't so bad after all.


TRIBE Member
Bottle of grey goose
Mic competitions(or so I thought)
no clothes
Pics on tribe

Day after hang over for two days
and forgetting it all until the pics appeared on tribe a few months later cuz of vverrgg


TRIBE Member
Many bumps of K & 7 chocolate martinis inside 2 hours, then shuffling back to the hotel & having to revise speaking notes (big business event the next morning). Ordered Swiss chalet. Awakening after having passed out to the stench of chicken, trying to write while barely being able to focus. Trying to convince the front desk to print out my speaking notes at 1:30am while reeking of alcomahol.


TRIBE Member
Drank Coors all day long in the sunshine then going to Crazy Girls strip club on Sunset. Drank White Russians in the club. When leaving the club I had to puke but didn't know where the ladies room was. Ended up puking in my handbag and ruining my purse, cell phone, camera and passport. Had to catch a flight the next day and Canadian Customs gave me a really hard time about the state (and smell) of my passport.
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TRIBE Member
VERY drunk at the Trash in Guelph, decided it was a good idea to start smashing beer bottles on the table.

Net result:

1. Severed three tendons in my hand
2. Fight with the bouncers after being tossed (lots of blood!)
3. Woke up the next day unable to move 2 on my fingers
4. 4 hours of surgery to fix hand
5. Scared the crap out of my folks and endured months of them trying to figure out "what the real problem was"
6. Unable to do my summer job (general labourer) for 6 weeks
7. Incurred serious debt as I was unable to work to pay for university
8. Quit the football team at school as I had lost 30 lbs and couldn't work out for the summer... a 200lb Linebacker who can't bench his own body weight doesn't get a lot of playing time.

Good or bad, my little escapade in Guelph changed my life's course...


TRIBE Member
about 5 or so years ago

Barrie, Ontario

watched the hockey game, during which we consumed a few rye and gingers. after number three or four I am informed by my boyfriend that I am actually drinking triples followed by much laughter. I vaguely remember getting my shoes on.

I remember one bar. Apparently we went to three. The rest has been filled in for me:

1. I danced, with glee, to top 40 music
2. I apologized profusely to a bouncer when entering an establishment for being so drunk
3. I puked on the dance floor
4. I puked when exiting one of the fine establishments
5. I DEMANDED shots VERY LOUDLY from one of the bartenders

I woke up back in the original house in someone's bed who had been nice enough to lend it when i passed out in it with my boyfriend who proceeded to laugh his ass off at my hangover.

and the stupidest part is I married the frickin guy who did this to me.


TRIBE Member
19th birthday. Drank. Alot. I have no real idea what, I just know it was a mix of beer, mix drinks, shots, drano, and some sort of fish paralyzer.

For all you Hamiltonian's, we were at The Border. I puked all over the bathroom, got dragged out by security. Decided to go for a breather behind a dumpster in the alleyway behind the bar. Woke up to the sounds of my friends calling my name searching for me. I only recall yelling out "Rooooccccckkky" (yes, Tribe's Rocky), and him finding me behind the dumpster. The jokes haven't stopped yet, and that was 6 years ago.

There's no chance I could get even half that drunk ever again. Regardless of what I drank. It's physically unpossible.

You know it's been a good night when you wake up with your shoes on.
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j bunny 2000

TRIBE Member
- i was 16
- i drank a pack of mikes hard and mickey of rye in under 45 minutes
- i beat someone up with boxing gloves
- I climbed into a tree house and don't remember how i got down
- My drunk friends found me passed out and tried to carry me but dropped me on my head a few times
- I puked on them and myself
- My sister came and picked my drunk ass up and I puked all over her car
- I woke up in my bed (first blackout experience) and had no idea how i got home
- My dad made me go to work the next day as a punishment
- as i was face painting at chudleighs apple farm, i dropped my paint and puked behind a barrel of hay in front of a huge line of screaming kids and parents
- i got sent home :D

Syntax Error

Well-Known TRIBEr
-17 years old
-friends birthday party
-3/4 of a 26er in a half hour
-straight razor, sliced open my arm down to the muscle in front of everybody.
-ambulance was called, met my parents at the hospital with dried blood all over my face from me trying to drink my own blood.
-20 stitches, it's been 7 years and i still have a huge scar on my forearm.


TRIBE Member

Trying to impress the cousins I had just met, I was having doubles and triples of straight vodka while they drank single mixed drinks ...

I remember dancing at some indoor club, getting the spins at one outdoor club, and at one semi-indoor bar, ... and I remember puking all over some cafe and the owner making my cousins clean it up since I could barely stand ...

I also very strongly remember the next day all these girls I had never seen before were picking me up and they all seemed to know my name ... and when I didn't now theirs, they usually got really really mad.

:confused: :D

That was the first time I had gotten stupid drunk ...


TRIBE Member
Originally posted by Boss Hog
Southern Comfort. Crawling home across a 6 lane street. 15 years old.

my death was SC too.

stomach pumped, age 16. woke up in the hospital with my mom & dad standing over me, a hospital band on my arm going
"oh fuck, I'm so dead"

can't even LOOK at a bottle.

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