The Party Bus

The latest adventure of my train wreck of a social life occurred June 27, 2009. My best friend from high school, Sugartits, called me and asked if I wanted to come up to Cleveland and party. Its was his roommates birthday and they had a party bus...I am in. I called my other two friends from high school (Giraffe and German) and along with giraffe's girlfriend (C.C.) we head up to Cleveland. I hop in the car and immediately start drinking vodka with soda that I have brought along for the hour long drive to Cleveland. I have also brought a new toy I recently bought...a portable breathalyser. After reading I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell which has basically become my bible; I have always idolized the Sushipants Story and wanted a tale of like this one of my own. I start pounding vodka and start blowing...by the time we arrive in Cleveland to meet Sugartits at Sushi Rock, I am already blowing a .09, and German is blowing a .07....not bad or so I thought. We go into this restaurant and are seated by the biggest skank with the biggest fake tits I have ever seen. These things were out of control, I mean ridiculous, and were way too big for her small frame. Yes, you all heard me, Boso said a girls tits were too big...I never thought I'd see this day either. I look at German and he is smiling/staring so much he has to look away and put his sunglasses on. We are seated and eat our meal. During the meal I continue to blow into by breathalyser so many times that Giraffe tries to fight me out of annoyance. We then go back to Sugartit's house and walk up the street to a place called Wherehouse Beverage. It is the best place ever. Half the store is wine, and half is beer. The beer side has singles and six packs of beers I have never heard of, names I can't pronounce, and from countries that I didn't even know made beer. I end up buying a couple jugs of Mississippi Mud. A black and tan beer that comes in a fucking moonshine bottle. It is about 32 ounce of shitfaceness in a bottle. We head over to Giant Eagle, buy domestic beer to whip ping pong balls at, and then head back to Sugartits. We then proceed to get shitfaced. I blow into my breathalyser after about 8 drinks...it reads .1. I figure I am doing good but something must be wrong because I have to be wayyy more fucked up than that because my teeth are numb, but I figure it could be right. I play a couple more games of beer pong, and when Sugartit's roommate comes home we proceed to do a bunch a shots of rum. I blow again .11 I figure maybe i just have a high alcohol tolerance even though I know this is not the case. Fuck it, lets party.

We chill upstairs until the party bus arrives. The "bus" is actually a an old school bus painted white and is driven by a ghetto ass man named "Cabbie D" who is wearing sunglasses at about 11pm. I board the bus with German, and we sit by two unattractive foreign chicks. Neither of these girls are hot and are far below my level, but I am hammered on a bus with limited options. You gotta work with what you got sometimes. I look over and German is slurring his ass off, droppin' game to the skank seated by him. I proceed to do the same thing...talking to this girl in between taking gulps of straight vodka, and then chasing it with Mississippi Mud. She tells me she just got out of a relationship, and of course I now exploit this opportunity, as now I know she is probably vulnerable and needy. I then proceed to lie to her; telling her I just got out of a long term relationship myself, and that I know how hard it is. I tell her she should just worry about having fun, and to experience new things all in an attempt to appear sensitive and caring so that maybe I can convince her to fuck me on the bus on the way home. German hears me lying to this girl and in his blacked out state shouts (for no apparent reason) "Bozman your a fuckin' liar. Mother fucker didn't get of any relationship." She asks me if this is true....I figure fuck it, so I tell her it is, and that I was just down to fuck. Both of them get up and go to the front of bus with me shouting "nerds sit in the front" as they leave. Good job German.

I then realize just how much I have to pee. I have to go so bad it hurts. Sugartits roommate Red says he has to go too. We proceed to go to the front of the bus and tell Cabbie D to pull over. He says no at first. I threaten to pee on him like R. Kelly if he doesn't pull over. He obliges, stops the bus in the middle of the road, and tells us to piss in a crowded parking lot in downtown Cleveland. I am drunk enough to listen to ghetto cab driver man and run into the parking lot with Red. I point out a Hummer H1 in the parking lot...you know the military version Hummers. I decided it is the nicest vehicle in the lot and therefore that's the one we should pee on. I tell Red to take the grill while I hose down the front wheel and step up panel. During this time I check my breathalyser. It reads .06 which cannot be true as I am completely a wreck. I convince myself that is a piece of shit, and then proceed to spike it like I just won the super bowl on the concrete. It shatters and I realize I just wasted 20 bucks. I am now angry and therefore wish to drink more when I get back on the "bus".

We then pull over to Liquid Club and get out, I am pissed, I hate clubs. I asked Sugartits when he told me to come up if we were going to clubs or bars; he knows I hate clubs and knows I probably wouldn't have came if he said we were going to clubs, so he lied and told me we were going to bars. We are going to clubs...all night. I now hate him and hope all his children are retarded. We go into Liquid. Immediately, I decided to get as drunk as possible. I see a bartender with Jello shots on my right by the entrance. I go up to the table and buy six shots and pound them. When the bartender turns around to put whipped cream on my shots I steal 3 beers from the cooler in front of me and shove them in my pants. I hate this place and tell German I am going to get my monies worth. He reminds me that there was no cover, and asks what the fuck I am talking about. I admit I really don't know what the fuck I am talking about and chug a full beer. I then proceed to find a bathroom. It is one large room with one toilet and one sink. For some reason Giraffe, German, C.C. and I all go in together. C.C. of course being a girl gets the toilet (who says chivalry is dead) Giraffe takes the sink, German takes the trash can, and I piss in a corner. Fuck clubs. We then exit and head to the downstairs dance floor. At this point I see that my fraternity brother and little brother "Gear" is working the door to the basement. I go up to him so that I won't have to in line with all of the popped collar, too tan, club fags, and he lets me in. He is hesitant at first, and informs me that I am almost too drunk to be in this club. I inform him that only because I am this drunk am I able to be in this hell on Earth, and tell him to get the fuck outta my way because I am here to "dance and shit". I fall down the stairs on the way to the basement which causes me to hate this place more. I find my friends and then head to the bar where I proceed to pour more vodka and redbull down my throat. I dance with some skanks....and then I blackout. I wake up at Sugartits on his living room floor. What the fuck? Here is what I remember that night and what has been inferred to me from the receipts I found in my pockets and what my friends told me.

• Apparently how I got back to Sugartits is the real mystery. I was not on the party bus for most of the way home, but somehow managed to get on at the end. Sugartits claims that searched for me before leaving the club, couldn't find me, and then the next thing he knew I was somehow back on the bus shotgunning beers. No one knows how I pulled this David Blaine type magical appearance.
• I remember (vaguely) leaving with a group of girls. I think I was going to hook up with the one, but then puked all over the backseat of the car I was in. They were not happy. They kicked me out after that, and left me to fend for myself in downtown Cleveland.
• Upon checking my wallet the next morning I realized I had no money. Zero. I checked my online banking and found out I made three large withdrawals. I have no idea why or what this money was spent on. I swear to God I am going to invent a debit card and cell phone that automatically shut off and will not work once a person blacks out. That way no unnecessary spending or drunk dials can take place.
• For some reason I bought 6 D cell batteries. I own nothing that uses these. I do not know why I bought these nor did I have any of the batteries the next morning. Only the receipt. Wtf?
• I somehow appeared on the party bus when it was almost back to Sugartits, and had with me buffalo chicken and sushi. I cannot explain this either.

Overall, this night sucked. I spend a lot of cash, failed to hook up with a girl because I vomited in her car, and lost four hours of my life. I somehow made it back though in a Homeward Bound like fashion, and lived to kick it another day. I do not know how. Read on.

Just Dance

This next event of my fucked up existence occurred April, 2008. I had to take a performing art class for my general education requirements. I only like to go to class two days a week (I actually schedule my classes this way; its not like I just get too hungover and don't go), so anyhow, the class "Viewing Dance" was the only art-type-bullshit class that fit in my schedule. I do not understand why I had to take this class, but I figured based on the title, I would be watching dances and sitting with a bunch of girls. I was right and there were only 5 guys in this class including myself; but was wrong about what I was to be doing. I ACTUALLY HAD TO DANCE. This class sucked. It was torture. I would have rather been waterboarded because at least that ends in less than 16 weeks. My prof was insane. She lacked any type of cognitive mental ability and was so easy to fuck with it almost made me feel bad (yea, right). Anyhow, I did meet some good looking girls in this class, despite my bad attitude and offensive comments. The fat/ugly chicks in this class were REALLY into it, and would always give me "fuck you" looks whenever I would refuse to do shit or say "this is gay" type comments. Anyhow, I cannot describe in words how bad I hated this class. For our "observational" paper we had to attend dances and write about our experiences. What we saw, how we felt about it, and so on. I was naive and actually attended one dance concert for the first paper. For the record I bullshitted the second paper, didn't attended a dance, and wrote about in a manner so as to not offend my prof any more so. My first paper however was a different tale. Here it is. Yes, I turned this in as it is posted:

“Spring into Ballet”

This paper reflects my views of The University of Akron Dance Companies performance of “Spring Into Dance” held April 11, 2008 at E.J. Thomas Hall that I recently attended with my fellow viewing dance colleague; BlondeCheer.
Let me first state that this was my first time going to a ballet performance, and it will almost certainly be my last. Yes, I am that closed minded. I was very thankful that they served alcohol as this drastically improved my attitude towards this event that I was required to go. After buying our six dollar tickets we preceded to our seats only to be told that we were permitted to sit wherever we wished. BlondeCheer (being a dancer herself) wanted to sit as close as we could (I suggested we sit in my in car in the parking lot). We chose seats that were to the right of the stage in the fifth row.

The ballet opened with a performance of both males and females dancing together in a performance what I would consider a mix of both contemporary and classical ballet. This part of the performance lasted a short time span of approximately 15-20 minutes (actual times may vary as my perception was becoming blurred with alcohol at this point).
After returning to our seats we both stared in awe as the females did their own routine. It was a mesmerizing performance of highly skilled artists that were clearly reflecting their love for dance of a form of art. They acted out their love for dance in a routine that had dance movement that was both aerial and ground based. At one point they formed two lines perpendicular to the stage, and performed a number of moves in unison using their flaying their limbs in every direction. I attempted to pick out the best looking, most flexible one so if I wasn’t too drunk (and therefore lost the ability to make audible sentences) would attempt to hook up with her later. In the middle of the routine the girls suddenly dropped to the ground at once in unison as the lighting, mood, and music all slowed down. It was at this point I had to remember to blink, as I could not take my eyes of the performance.

After the women’s routine the men did their own routine. They were dressed in clothing so tight it would not be permitted to be worn in a workout video from the 1970”s. It was a flagrant disregard of the unwritten and sacred codes of masculinity. They did a ballet performance that was a mix of different styles of dance moves of which the names I cannot remember nor would be able to pronounce. I am sure their dance moves made their fathers very proud. At this point I was thankful I was seated next to a girl so no one would think I was gay for watching this on a Friday night.

An intermission then occurred shortly thereafter. After returning, we witness the rest of the dance routine. My attention span was spent at this point resulting in mental “black out” of sorts. I awoke from my stupor only to mumble various rude and obscene comments to anyone who would listen or was within ear shot. I awoke from my state by the sounds of applause. I took a second to clear my head and comprehend my surroundings. Had it been seconds? Had it been Minutes? Days perhaps? I literally lost about an hour of my life at this moment. I got up and followed the masses out of the ballet as fast as possible.

Overall, this was a new experience that I would not voluntarily go to see unless I was trying to score points with an extremely attractive girl who is into dance; if and only this situation were to arise would I ever consider going back. The only dance I want to see from now on is performed on a stage with an abundance of poles and mirrors.

For the record my prof was not pleased at this essay, gave me an F (despite the fact I wrote about all the required material), and referred me to the "Dean of Dance" for my views and "derogatory attitude". Fuck it, I ended up with a 'A' in the class, didn't get expelled, and never did have to write the letter of apology I was told too. Dancing is gay unless you are drunk, and trying to get laid. I laugh every time I read this shit and hope all of you enjoyed it as well.

Cab Ride #2

Ok, this happened sometime during the spring semester of 2009. For those of you don't know downtown Akron is a shit hole of the lowest standards. It looks like poverty and despair threw up south of campus. I consider myself lucky if I can go out and come home without getting shanked. This is little blip is what happened to a friend and I one night when I was trying to get home from the bar. My friend "River" and I were leaving my favorite watering hole, The Barley House, and decided to take a cab back to my house. I flag down a taxi already waiting outside the bar, and we hop in. As soon as I shut the door, the driver takes off...fast. He squeals the tires as he accelerates. He is a large fat white man with long hair, and that white trash look some are simply born with. He resembles the retarded brother "Mikey" on American Chopper. He smells like liquor, and has one arm the seat beside him and is turning his body so he can talk to us in the backseat similar to the way some people back up. He smells like straight booze and talks like he hit the meth pipe one to many times in his life through his four crooked teeth.
MikeyCab-"Where ya headin?"
Me-"*123 Carroll St. Its a fraternity house. Do you know where I am talking about?"
MikeyCab- "Yea."
Me-"Just go straight up Exchange take a left of Spicer, and a right on Orchard by the interstate."
The cab is floating. We are going way too fucking fast. We are going at least 15-20 mph over the limit, and that is my best drunk estimate.
MikeyCab-"Mannn...you wouldn't believe the shit that just happened to me."
River-"Whats that?"
MikeyCab-"Dude I picked up before you was a diabetic or some shit. Had a seizure in the backseat-threw up n shit. I had to dump him off at St. Thomas ER".
Me-"Dump him?"
MikeyCab-"Yea, his buddy was with him. He got out and then I took off. I didn't have time to fill out shit. I had to pick up people like you guys! I'm gonna take a left here by where they are putting up that new stadium."
Me-"Their is no left here. The only left is the one you gotta take on Spicer".
MikeyCab (as he is slowing down to turn left)- "You callin' me liar". I give River the what the fuck look that you can't fake.
River-(whispers to me)"We are going to die. He is crazy and is going to kill us." She is white as a ghost at this point and appears mortally frightened. I exploit this opportunity to be the asshole I am. Its what I do best.
Me- "No, he will in all probability kill me and rape you. Being a girl sucks sometimes, but you get free drinks so fuck it."
MikeyCab (after he discovers their is no left turn)-"Man, they must have taken that road out when they put in that football field...fuckers. I'll go up Spicer".
Me-"Awesome. Wish I would have thought of that stroke of genius. Take a right on Orchard...it'll be like a half mile up."
As we are barreling down Spicer, I yell to him to slow down as he going to miss the turn. He misses the turn, and then proceeds to BACK UP ON SPICER. DUDE IS BACKING UP ON A MAIN ROAD! He takes a right down Orchard. For those of you who don't know Orchard is barely a street it is too narrow, about a 100 yards long, and is one step above a dirt road. It has huge potholes everywhere. We are accelerating fast and approaching the turn to my frat's parking lot.
MikeyCab-"Here? O shit!"
He slams on the brakes to avoid going past our driveway. I see headlights behind us, and hear a horn. I believe at this point I am going to die. A truck is right behind us, and retard just slammed on the brakes. The truck passes us, and MikeyCab yells "fuck you" at the truck...as if its there fault he doesn't know how to drive or succeed at life for that matter. He attempts to pull in the driveway, but has gone too far. He backs up on a road....again. He pulls in and stops. We are at my house and we are not dead. This is good.
MikeyCab- "That'll be 7 bucks"
Me-"Heres 10. Keep it. Thanks for not killing us"
MikeyCab-"Anytime. Your alright bro."

The great outdoors.

On June 20, 2009 my friend 'Rat' and I decide we are going out. As this is the last day of summer classes I announce I will be hammered. This is not new. Rat asks me if he will be carrying me home which causes me to laugh. See, Rat is one of my best friends and my fraternity brother (we've lived together for 4 years), so he has known me for a while. We were pledge brothers so we have been through some shit. And for all of you Greeks out there you can only imagine they type of "shit" I am talking about. Pledging is 'the best semester you'd never wanna do again', and those men who do this endeavor together are forever scarred emotionally in a a similar fashion. Anyhow, back to the story. See I used to get reallllly drunk, and this level of complete blackouted-retardation was and still is known as "Boso-drunk". It is the last level of drunk one can be before they have to have their stomach pumped. I announce I have bought a bottle of vodka, some Red Bull and am going to get stupid. I plan to surpass the Boso-drunk level. Rat joins me.

We start drinking at 6pm with our friends Asshole and LipRing, and plan on going to the Barley House around 10:30. After playing hours of powerhour we are thoroughly shitfaced. Asshole is a rep for Monster energy drinks so he brought a case of the stuff over. So not only are we all drunk, we are also all wired and hyper. I decide we should all do shots. Two girls come in. I decide they should do shots as well. I demand they get more glasses because the one girl is a dirty whore, and I am afraid of getting the HIV from her. I make a Smirnoff/Monster bomb and attempt to chug it. I seize up, start choking, and have to leave the room before this stuff comes out of my nose. It does not go down well. I regroup, psych myself up, and then try again. Success. I am now wasted. I look around all three of my friends, they are all drunk as shit....this is going to be a good night or a really bad one.

LipRing announces it is time to go and that he has a ride for us waiting in the parking lot. We head out only to be met in the parking lot by a gorgeous girl. She is a 10 by all standards. I drunkenly step my game up and announce "your fuckin' hot" to her. She laughs and then proceeds to think I am indeed an idiot-tool. We arrive at Barley, and immediately head to to the bar. I order lots of car bombs and tequila. Rat leaves me to drink all of the shit I order by myself because he can no longer hang with me. Fuck him. I drink a ton of stuff that I should not have. I then basically black out. I remember telling a girl that used to be fat that she is now unfat. I thought this was a compliment at the time, but she doesn't appreciate it. I then get a feeling of nausea...I am going to vomit. I run outside and throw up on a potted tree around a large group of smokers. They are not happy. I throw up on my hand and then use that hand to attempt to call a cab. No cabs are sight. I then vaguely remember some girl telling me she will drive me home. I do not know who this was, but she basically carries me to a car. The next hours are a blur but here is what I remember:

• Walking around an apartment. Who's this was or why I was in it; I do not know.
• Buying 40 dollars worth of food at Taco Bell.
• Accusing the man working the drive through at T-Bell that he is a 'dirty Jew' for not putting vodka in my frutista.
• Throwing 35 dollars worth of food at my friend's SUV for no reason.
• I then see Rat at the frat. He has not happy. We believe that another guy (Jaba) has stolen his room. We plot to get his room back. We enter Jaba's room believing it is Rats. I smack his X-Box headset off his head and finger his ear. Rat yells and throws something. We realize we are on the wrong floor of the house and leave Jaba's room.
• Rat passes out in the hallway outside my room.

This is the last blur-o-shit I remember before what happens next. I wake up...OUTSIDE. It is raining, I am cold, and in boxers. What the fuck? I look around. I am behind my house and their is a pile of vomit next to me. My best guess is that I went outside to puke and then passed out. I look at myself...someone has drawn nazi symbols all over me. I immediately right this off as Karma for me calling the man at Taco Bell a "dirty Jew" hours before. I come in and check my pants pockets...I have spent 80 dollars but have no criminal citations. This is good. I immediately get in the shower and scrub the "white trash aura" off myself, and prepare to endure a really fucking bad hangover. I woke up outside. I still can't believe this shit.

The night the cab caught on fire

OK, this first story happened May 23, 2009. Let me first provide the backdrop for the events that occurred. My friend who I will refer to as Redbull for the purpose of this story is in the Military. He is my fraternity brother, one of my best friends, and is an old chapter president. He moved to Arizona a while back when he took a job for the government. Yea, this dude is a serviceman AND federal agent for the government; keep those facts in mind as it will only make this shit I am about to tell you funnier. When he was deployed in the Middle East for about five months Redbull routinely called me to bitch about how bad his life sucked balls, and how much he wanted to come back to Akron (Note: I have NEVER heard anyone be excited to come back to this shithole city).

Anyhow, I'm in my room on a random Friday and had no plans to do anything, but wack off and watch Entourage. My phone rings and its "Redbull's" name on the caller ID; not the military number he had been calling me from. I get happy cause I figure that my boy is finally home and not dead.
"Hey Boso, what's going on"
"Not to much at all. You back in country?"
"Yea, just got in. I'm at my parents in Medina. I'm bored as fuck. You gonna be at the house? I wanna stop by."
"Yep, I'm not going anywhere. You wanna go get fucked up at B-Dubs (our spot)."
"No, I'm just taking it easy. I just wanna hang out. I'll be down." This was a blatant lie, as I would soon find out.
"Cool. I'll put some pants on."
I get ready and soon Redbull arrives with a six pack of Bud Lite Lime (I didn't buy this watered down fruit piss water, he did so I don't wanna hear it). Its only about 7pm so we sit in my room and devour 3 beers a piece. Redbull is a skinny, around 160lbs (if that), and had been on a 2 beer limit while deployed. He states he is soon "feelin' it". I point out the fact that he should not drive home, and that because of this fact it is a good idea for him to go binge drink more at the bar with me. He agrees that this is a good plan. Upon leaving his phone is dying. He calls his wife to tell her to call my cell to get hold of him. Keep this in mind. It will be relevant later.

We walk to Buffalo Wild Wings. This is not the type of place you go to get shitfaced retarded while its still light outside on a Friday. This does not stop us. We arrive. Their are about 6 people in this place besides us. We sit down at the bar, and begin to order. We each get real beers. After slamming about 3 rounds Redbull decides we should do shots of Rumplemintz, it is at this point I realize we are going to get in trouble tonight.

For those of who don't know Rumplemintz is 100 proof peppermint schnapps. It is sweet, syrupy, and really fucking strong. It is a blackout waiting to happen, because it fucks you up quicker than anything else I have ever found.

We do a round of shots and it is at this point I decide to stand. I have trouble with this feat and almost fall. I am fucked up. I look at Redbull...he is mentally retarded. He is almost drooling on himself as he yelling at the bartender to turn the Indians game off in favor for a youth karate competition that had been watching. He is passionate about this request. He bitches so much they turn off a pro-baseball game at a sportsbar so he can watch a 10 year old twurl a fake sword.

We do more shots and drink more beer and Redbull becomes increasing pissed about how no one appreciates what he did while he was deployed. He moves from pissed to enraged even though I am agreeing with him, and no one else is listening.
Because I am drunk and my friend is now enraged and drunk I decide we should go to a larger bar with more people. We decide to walk down the street to Barley House. Barley House is THEE bar in the shithole dump city of Akron. It is large, and everyone goes there. We arrive around 10pm. No one is there really. We sit at the bar and Redbull orders.
"We need 2 Bud Lights, 2 Irish car bombs, 2 shots of Jack, and 2 shots of Rumplemintz."
We drink all of this and then proceed to get three more rounds of it. As we are drinking, Redbull is attempting to fight the man wearing a suit next to us.
Me-"Why do you wanna whip his ass"?
Redbull-"HE IS WEARING S SUIT AND LOOKING AT ME! HE IS GAY! LETS BEAT HIS ASS!"
Me-"You haven't looked away from him for like 1o minutes. Maybe he just wonders why your staring him down, dude"
Redbull-"Fuck you. I'm gonna beat his ass!"
Me-"Do it to it dude. Whatever. But if you wanted to kill someone you should have done it over there. That way you get a medal for it and you could make yourself a right ear only necklace".

Redbull heeds my words, and for some reason decides I make sense. He goes back to drinking and is now less crazy than he's had been. Both of us are now too shitfaced to talk to each other and are only able to make grunting and clicking sounds. The attractive bar tender looks at me and asks me where I went to school. I attempt to tel her the name of the high school I went to when I realize I am now so drunk I am drooling....smooth Boso...smooth. I stop talking to her mid-sentence when I realize I have no game and about to blackout. Redbull and I roll outside to the patio and begin talking to some girls. Redbull is now super duper fucked up. He goes back to "violent PTSD mood" and keeps telling me he wants to get in a fight. I buy the angry drunk more booze. He drinks more liqour and is now docile and calm. I am leaning against a fence talking to some broads when Redbull suddenly loses the ability to stand up. He falls, grabs me, and takes me to the ground with him. I help him up, and he falls taking me to the ground with him. Bouncers now descend upon us "break us up", and kick us out for fighting. We try to explain we weren't fighting but trying to stand. We still must leave. I hail a cab. We get in a cab driven by a fatter version of Bernie Mac. Redbull forces the cab driver to address him as "staff sgt sir", and orders him to go to Taco Bell. We pull in line at Taco Bell. Redbull finds the adrenaline switch, says its time to drink more, and orders Fat Bernie to leave the line at Taco Bell (after we have ordered) and pull through the Brew Thru. Redbull orders 3 bottles of blue Alize, a case of Natural Light, and case of Budweiser. He orders 3 bottle of Alize so Fat Bernie aka OUR DRIVER "who looks sad" can have one. He pays about 90 bucks at the drive through in all. We then proceed to come down the street that our frat is on. Our cab begins to smoke from the engine. We pull in. We all get out and Fat Bernie opens the hood. A hose in the engine is ON FIRE. Fat Bernie says and I quote "fuck it, lets drink", and slams the hood shut. Redbull hands out all bottles of Blue Alize, and opens his. He attemtps to climb to the roof of the cab and falls. We all chug our bottles of Alize. The next couple of hours are a blur but here are the main points...

• Fat Bernie come in to our house (still calling Redbull "staff sgt sir") and boozes up in my room with us.
• Redbull's wife calls me, but I cannot find Redbull so I do not answer.
• I lose Redbull.
• Fat Bernie leaves and takes our beer.
• Ugly fat chicks we meet at the bar somehow come over. I tell them I think my friend is lost. They accuse me of trying to get them to leave. I call them all "fat whores", tell them how to get to Burger King, and then proceed to ask why they are drinking because they look pregnant.
• I still can't find Redbull. I think he has died for some reason.

My next memory is waking up on my floor. Naked and covered in what I can only hope was my own vomit. I find Redbull. He is down the hall in a "new guys" room. Redbull to this day does not know where he went during the hours he was gone. He apparently came in though, saw a open room with a bed in it, and decided to sleep in it. He had never meet NewGuy in his life so when NewGuy came back from parting he found a stranger in his bed. NewGuy is cool about this, moves drunk mess Redbull to his futon, and sleeps in his bed. Only at my house does shit like this happen. I look at my phone the next day and have a voicemail from WifeRedBull, she is pissed. The message went like this "Hey Boso, Its WifeRedBull and I am just calling you to tell you the Wedding is OFF FOR NEXT WEEKEND BECAUSE YOUR CANT ANSWER YOUR FUCKING CELL!!" I cannot put enough exclamation marks after this statement to describe how pissed she was. See RedBull and his wife got married in a courtroom before he left for the Middle East so she would have insurance and what not. They were having a fake wedding when he got home so that their families could attend. They ended up having it despite the threatening message.

In all, between RedBull and I bar tabs and such we spent over 350 dollars that night. I got one of the best stories ever from it, and the worst hangover ever. WifeRedBull is still pissed at me and RedBull is no longer allowed to go out with me if he wants to stay married.