Drunk Mike

Beer Fact of the Day

2005-12-01T08:21:00.000-08:00

Two drinks a day is linked with 10-25% increased salary! Increase your salary today :P

http://www.meermacatawa.com/blog/archives/2005/07/13/beer_more_income/index.php

beer fact of the day

2005-11-28T18:15:00.000-08:00

Beer found to help prevent cancer. Cheers!

http://www.scienceblog.com/cms/anti-cancer_compound_in_beer_gaining_interest_9302

beer fact of the day

2005-11-27T16:02:00.000-08:00

Why don't they teach us this in elementary school? Pilgrams landed on Plymouth Rock because they were short on beer.

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/051125.html

Drinking on the Job

2005-11-05T01:36:00.000-08:00

This woman walked up to us at Lucy's, Budweiser in hand, and offered us a round of Budweiser. We're like, sure. Apparently, she works for Anheuser-Busch. I kid you not, this is her job. She travels around the South East promoting (and drinking) beer! As anyone who knows me would know, my first question was "Are they hiring?" Which, as it turns out, they may be.

As most of my readers know, I'm graduating this semester. As part of my job hunt, I decided to type 'beer' into monster.com. Of the hundreds of results, not one of them wanted to pay me to drink it! I just don't understand. 'Vodka', 'Alchohol'; I even desperately tried 'Tequila' and all I met were similar disappointments. So, if you want to pay me to drink beer, please contact me immediately! References available on request.

My last post was riddled in anticipation of three trips to Vegas. Unfortunately, only one of them actually happened - and nothing worth blogging! Anyways, I have a few stories that may be worthy. More soon, I promise!

Vegas Summer!

2005-04-30T03:53:00.000-07:00

Today, within one hour, I got two invites to vegas for this summer. Combined with a third trip that I was already planning, that's (at least) THREE trips to Vegas this summer! Three unique trips: A bachelor party, a poker trip, and one with my alchoholic gambling buddy and his alchoholic law school friends. I am seriously considering a Vegas time share.

Why does blogger's spellchecker not recognize the word 'blog'?

Spring Break: Shark Attack

2005-04-26T02:06:00.000-07:00

OK So, let me finish the tale of spring break. For some reason, Vince assumed that I wouldn't get piss drunk and embarrass him in front of his friends from undergrad (If this were the case, there would be no blog post, would there?), and decided to invite me with to Virginia. So it's me, Vince, Tynia, Scott (Vince's friend) and ... crap I'm not going to attempt to spell his name, but it sounds sorta like you would pronounce Jaime in spanish - but he's French. Anyways, the 5 of us trek to VA, see some huge Easter bunny's in people's yards; discover a pool hall that doubles as a gas station; and all the other things you might expect to see in rural NC.

I'll tell this tale in first person, though I should point out that this is pieced together through my hazy recollections and fractured 2nd hand tales.

Anyways, we roll in to UVA, meet his friends, eat some grub. FINALLY, we get to the bar. First impressions, I'm not so impressed. However, we start drinking the shots - I buy a round, someone else buys a round, some else buys another, etc. I remember a few beers, a raspberry Long Island; but I think the drink of the day was Liquid Cocaine which few people had had before. Anyways, I start to talk to some law student girls who are friends of the people we're staying with. Vince tells me I was 'hitting' on them, although that's not how I remember it (actually, I don't remember anything I said or talked about). Apparently, they thought Tynia and I were married, but Tynia corrected them ("We're not married but I fucked him")

Oh well, later in the night Gary volunteers to be my wingman. So to warmup, we go to the first chicks we find (even beergoggles I know they aren't so attractive). Anyways, about 20 seconds in I turn to Gary and say (apparently loudly enough so the girls can hear): "I don't think this is going well" and start walking away. Next, 2 feet from the girls I am talking about, I beg Vince to go wing me with them. Vince refuses and the girls are sorta laughing at me. I did say I wasn't so impressed when we arrived, but man this place was hopping when we left. I would definitely recommend it.

Anyways, I go up and close my tab. For some reason that will be forever unknown, he gives me two shots of Goldshlagger. Vince is with me and we all know he's boring - er I mean he doesn't drink. So what am I going to do with this second shot? So I offer it to the first cute chick I find. I believe our conversation goes something like this:

Mike: Hye! Watn a shot!?
Cute Girl: (smiling, unsure of how to respond)
Mike: I got thse free! I ned somone to do one wth me! No strings attached!
Cute Girl: Uh ok.
Mike: (raises glass in toast) To UVA!
Cute Girl: Uh.., to UVA!
Mike: (walks away and leaves bar)

Mike (talking with Vince now): Did you see that?! This is my new strategy to get chicks; offer them drinks and tell them I got them free.
Vince: Uh, sure Mike.

So finally we roll into Kang's place. I'm piss drunk. I sorta fell on an airmatress and popped it. Tynia passes out in a drunken slumber, leaving only Vince to take care of me. Anyways, I'm getting the dizzies so there's no way in hell I'm sleeping anytime soon. Finally,
Mike: Hey Vince, where should I throw up?
Vince: Uh... hold on.
(a few minutes later: Vince got me a garbage can)
Mike: (blagh! blagh! pukes in garbage can. Literally, Tynia is passed out less than a foot away through this whole ordeal).

Soon later, I start to get hungry...

Mike: I'm hungry. I'm gonna go to Harris Teeter.
Vince: No Mike.
Mike: I'm just gonna go to Harris Teeter.
Vince: No Mike.
(a bit later)
Mike: I'm just gonna go to Vegas.
Vince: (confused and laughing) Uh, no Mike. Just stay here.
Mike: Uhh, I'm just gonna go to Vegas. I'll be right back.
Vince: No Mike.

Anyways, I believe this becomes a theme where I keep insisting on going to Harris Teeter / Vegas. The SOB won't let me go, but finally he finds me some Honey Nut Cheerios that I can snack on. I may have puked some more, I know I got the urge to spit afterwards, so I did that outside with some fresh air. At one point I tried to read the book I brought along (confederacy of Dunces) but I don't think I succeeded well.

The following day was fun but nothing interesting enough to blog on. We saw the Campus. We played some poker (I won money), watched some college basketball tournament, etc. We did go out but it was nothing like the night before. I hated this bartender who screwed up my orders, wouldn't serve us in pint glasses, spilt a pitcher of beer all over the floor, was kinda a bitch and really just sucked. But I had fun cause I was drinking with my friends.

A Tale of Two Hotdogs

2005-04-26T01:40:00.000-07:00

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of soberness. It was the age of drunkenness. Excuse my literary interlude. Drunkenness. I got home from the bar and was pretty hungry, so I decided to eat some boiled hotdogs, and maybe watch some TV. The next thing I remember, it was fricking freezing in our house. In my sleepy haze I discover both doors wide open! So I'm screaming at Todd to shut the damn doors, and he's yelling back at me, completely incoherently. Finally I get up and shut the doors - but he's right behind me opening them again. Anyways, I'm way too tired to fight him over this so fuck it, I went to bed.
That's my story; Todd's is a bit different.

Todd's talking to his girlfriend on the phone, and he hears a fire alarm going off. He soon realizes that's it's our fire alarm, and decides to see what's up. He opens his door and - let me quote - 'a mushroom cloud of smoke billowed into my room'. He took a deep breath and ran downstairs to discover the remains of two hotdogs emitting smoke throughout the house. Thinking quickly, he removes the pot, turns off the oven, and opens the doors and windows. According to Todd, our conversation went something like this:
Mike: Shut the fucking doors!
Todd: The house is filled with smoke, keep them open!
Mike: Shut the fucking doors! It's fucking freezing in here!!
Todd: You moron, the house is filled with smoke!
Mike: Fine, I'll shut the damn doors...
Todd: Don't shut the doors! You started a fire in the kitchen!
Mike: You started a fire in the kitchen!
Todd: ugh, go to bed!
Mike: Fuck it, I'm going to bed.

Anyways, I don't remember any smoke or any fire alarm. All I remember is sleeping peacefully until I was rudely interrupted by a freezing livingroom. So did I start a fire in the kitchen? Or was this some elaborate prank, reminiscent of throwing a peaceful sleeper off the couch and videotaping it? You decide...

Sober in DC

2005-04-06T00:48:00.000-07:00

Whew, last post was way too long. This one's gonna be shorter. So I'm in DC for a conference. Sunday night I plan on getting wasted in the DC night scene; I find some club on the internet that's like 'last Sunday we were at capacity by midnight', so of course I'm gonna hit this up. I walk near 2 miles to get there; I pull up and there's a sign on the door that says 'we're closed cause we suck and have electricity problems'. Well fuck.

So I'm walkin the streets of DC looking for some place to get drunk around people my age at least. So I hear this hip-hop music blasting from somewhere. I find this place advertising Drinks! and Dancing! It looks kinda sketch from outside, and there's this dude beckoning me from the window. But whatever, I'm desperate. As soon as I walk in I already want to leave; this is by far the most sketch bar I've ever been in. But the bartender greets me, so I order a corona.

As I'm getting my drink I look around. On my right is a small lounge area with one dude in it. In there are a few TVs, each showing a different porn movie. On my left are two people that look like they're in town on business, and there's the guy that beckoned me in from the window. Anyways, I get to talking to this guy, and he's telling me how the women are coming soon. He doesn't out and say it, but I get the strong feeling that he's talking about prostitutes. I get the fuck out of there by saying I'll be back later when the women are in. A bit later, I run into some pandler who's confiding me about this hooker bar a few blocks away. He's telling me how it's such a great deal that I can grope them all cause their postitutes. Yes, it's confirmed, I was at a hooker bar.

Let me tell you, the Sunday night scene in DC sucks. I ended up getting a drink at 4 different hotel bars (including mine). It was ok, and I talked to a bunch of people from all over, but certainly not what I was looking for.

Monday night I hit up ESPN Zone for The Game. TAR! HEELS! TAR!! HEELS!!! Here I met up with the self-proclaimed DC Tar Heels Fans, which consists of 8 or so people who never actually went to UNC but are screaming with about half as much enthusiasm as you might find in Goldie's, but they are still the loudest in place. After the game, I walked out to find Pennsylvania Ave closed to traffic and saturated with the smell of burning bikes in the post-game riots... ok I wish. My friends made me feel better by calling me up and letting me hear the riots in the background. The riots made live national coverage with an ariel view, 'a human bbq' proclaimed one CNN anchor in an absolutely pathetic attempt to joke about the people jumping the bonfires. That's right, I got to see Franklin Live From The Air while y'all were stuck on the ground breathing carcinogenic bike fumes and dodging fireworks! Suckers! I bet you all are jealous as hell. I announced to anyone listening that I live about 3 blocks from where there are now 20K people having about 20x the fun I am.

We're Number One!

Spring Break 05: A Tale of Sobriety

2005-03-30T00:13:00.000-08:00

Spring Break started Thursday night as we headed to Vegas. Sasa got to sit next to the chicks, while I slept most of the trip. The girls had this genius idea that I will try in the future - bring your own alcohol. Sasa told me the flight attendants were getting annoyed with how much orange juice was requested from their aisle! That is fricking awesome. I cannot wait to try this out.

Ahh how I love the Vegas airport. Walking off the plane to lines and lines of slot machines fills me with anticipation of the gambling to come. I've been here enough it feels like my third home.

Thursday night I decided to spice it up a bit and tried out the poker tables at the Mirage. I notice right away that they have some new dealers, and some of them are pretty cool joking it up with us. I hate the dealers that are all quiet and boring. I find out later that they certainly have a few new cocktail waitresses; one of them looks about my age and is HOT!

Side note: My friend Tynia and I decided to give up stuff for lent. For some unknown reason, I agreed to give up beer in exchange for her giving up coffee. We were both miserable, though she openly took sadistic pleasure in my misery while I feigned sympathy.

Anyways, it took about two seconds after I sat down at the table and saw a few bottles of beer - out the window with lent. Anyways, no one cares about my poker adventures, but this night sucked. This guy across the table was terrible and hit against me every time. I left after I dropped 100.

Friday I woke up obscenely early - like 10 or something. I don't know what happened. I think they pump oxygen into the air to prevent restful sleep. Anyways, we walked around the strip a bit, I played some pokes, etc.

I had heard good things about this bar called the Ghost Bar at the Palms. Except for Jason who told me it was for swingers. Don't believe them, it sucks. We paid $20 to get in but left within half an hour. Instead we went to Rain at the same hotel. We were standing behind these Indian Chicks and starting talking with them and stuff. But then I told them we went to UNC and they sorta laughed and stopped talking to us. I don't really get it.

Anyways, the only redeeming value of Rain is that it has an outdoor porch where you can breath real air and talk without screaming at the top of your lungs. Other than that, the dance floor was way too small, the women weren't loose enough nor hot enough, and the music wasn't particularly exciting.

Sasa went to the Grand Canyon with his Seattle Friends, and he kinda woke me up in the morning and I couldn't go back to sleep. Strangely enough, I had this huge headache and was a bit sick in the Stomach. So I bought some advil and hit the poker tables. For those that don't know, the poker tables at 10am on Saturday are filled with drunks that have been there all night (and yes, I've been one of them). By 1 I was drunk with them.

Saturday night we went to the Ra at the Luxor. Now this is how a Vegas club should be. Hot women that enjoy dancing, fucking awesome and pumped up DJs, etc. We had some drunken fun.

Sunday night I hit the Jackpot at the poker tables. No, I don't mean I won money (although I did), I mean I sat right between two girls, one really hot and the other kinda cute. Anyway, I got REALLY drunk and then some cool guys sat down and we did Jeager shots. One of the girls invited me to a strip bar, but that never materialized cause we were having too much fun being drunk and playing pokes. I got drunk enough that I was honestly telling people my cards ('All I have are two aces - the black ones!') and they'd still pay me off.

These guys were rather overaggressive - and I pulled off a huge bluff. They both raised and reraised without looking at their cards UTG and UTG+1, and I was the big blind. I called with the J2s. I bet a rag flop that missed me, was raised and reraised. Of course I called with nothing but a gutshot to a 4 card straight. The turn checked around, so I made a pure bluff on the river. They both folded and screamed 'show it!', so I did! We all got a good laugh, and I think Sasa gave me a lot of props for such a kickass bluff.

Finally, the next day was 'go back home day', the most miserable day in Vegas. Don't worry, just because we were going home doesn't mean I didn't get drunk, because I did. My mantra is: never do a red-eye sober. So first, I got drunk at the poker table; drunk enough so that we had a full discussion in the cab as to what color the tigers were at the Mirage (me and the cabbie agreed they were white, while The Canadian insisted they were yellow).

On to the story everyone's been waiting for: The Bar At The Airport. So we had this bitch of a waitress who, when I asked if I could have something off their breakfast menu, said they only served breakfast until 10. Being a drunk prick, I said it was only 9 (though it was pm, hahahah) and she just walked away, what a bitch. Anyways, the bar was good because they served drafts in 20 oz or so. And for some reason, the waitress brought me a second beer w/o me ordering it.

We were just talking, minding our own business, and then Sasa is telling me about how I didn't know something that happened at the Ra. He wouldn't tell me what was up.

Sidenote: Some people claim that, after a few beers, my decibel level (a logarithmic scale) scales linearly with the number of beers I've had.

Anyways, I've had a few beers. Sasa won't tell me what's up. So I ask, Sasa - What is so embarrassing? Did you get a blowjob in the bathroom?! Then these women in the table across from us start cracking up, a few other people start looking at us, and Sasa turns bright red. It's double the funny cause Sasa was so embarrassed.

Anyways, the rest of the trip was mostly me passed out in a drunken slumber, either on the airplane or the floor of the airport in Tampa. As soon as I got home, I passed out on my bed. This is only the 4th day of break! To be continued...

First Post

2005-03-29T23:18:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my new blog. Who knows if this will go the way of my last blog (ie two posts before it died).

I got the name from my friend Jason, who for some untold reason has me in his cell phone as 'Drunk Mike'. If you figure out why he would do such a thing, drop me a line. I feel it's meant to be ironic.

Anyways, maybe these pages will fill with tales of sober meanderings.