I’m writing this entry while sobering up from a three-day drinking binge that involved several cities, large bar tabs, many run-ins with bouncers, excessive amounts of Mexican food, and three filet-o-fish sandwiches from McDonalds. Yes, filet-o-fish sandwiches from McDonalds.

My latest round of heavy drinking began on Thursday night. Notable events from that evening’s festivities included an extensive conversation about the porn industry with a hardcore Christian chick, me performing a dance number for three Asian hotties, and me throwing an entire Mexican food meal at a neighboring apartment. Obviously, the usual drunken antics that you can expect from your boy Fat Dick, but everyone knows that Thursday is always the calm before the storm.

Friday’s round of heavy drinking began at two-for-one happy hour, which always proves to be a death sentence for me and whomever is with me. Why? When you combine two-for-one drink specials with an insatiable appetite for alcohol, bad things are sure to happen. Problem is, happy hour ends at 8pm, which means that by 8:30pm, I am completely out of my mind wasted. On Friday I started in with some shots at around 10pm at another bar and ended up puking in the bathroom and passing out at a table, after which, I got kicked out by a bouncer whom I got into a minor altercation with. Naturally, after getting kicked out I attempted to scour the greater Los Angeles area for blow, which I finally landed about an hour later. I woke up from being passed out at another bar to go outside to grab it, and then proceeded to re-enter the bar, pass out again, and wake up in my bed with my clothes and shoes on.

What woke me up in the morning? It was a call from my friend, and incidently my companion from the night before. She is a lot smarter than I am, so she bowed out soon after happy hour in order to save herself the embarrassment that I experienced. Anyway, we quickly came up with the idea to head to Pacific Beach for the night, and we left within about an hour. We had no clear plans, no concrete ideas for a place to stay, and neither of us had been to Pacific Beach before. We did, however know that it was somewhere south of Los Angeles, and I was still drunk from the night before, so I was ready to handle just anything Pacific Beach could throw at me, as long as there was a way for me to score some more alcohol after I started sobering up.

What ensued was an amazingly fun adventure. I only had two goals:

1. Get kicked out of another bar in order to be able to post a blog entry about getting kicked out of two different bars in two different cities on two consecutive nights.
2. Say ‘We’re just visiting from LA’ to as many Pacific Beach locals as possible.

Since your boy Fat Dick is a goal-oriented individual, I, with the help of my compadre, accomplished both of these goals. Below, for your convenience, I’ve listed some important events and things that I learned from our trip.

Pacific Beach Has A Lot Of Liquor Stores
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 12

‘Socially-conscious’ rappers always complain about how there is a liquor store on every corner of every ghetto. After our trip, I am courious as to why emo singers don’t whine about how every block in Pacific Beach actually is just a really long collection of liquor stores. This place caters to the alcoholic, so obviously I was in paradise. After deciding which liquor store to patronize (it was tough), we copped a fifth of vodka (Grey Goose) and some Red Bull and set off to find a hotel.

The Stinger (Heavy Drinking Trick)
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 17

We have already determined that I am really, really good at drinking heavily. Fuck, saying I am really good is an understatement. Anyway, over the years, I have devised several diabolical tricks in order to drink heavily as efficiently as possible. One such technique is called ‘The Stinger.’ Medically speaking, after a night of heavy drinking, your body is in a state of shock; it doesn’t know what to expect. The Stinger capitalizes on this shock by delaying the onset of the effects of the alcohol consumed. To do The Stinger, just consume a lot of alcohol within a short period of time after a night of heavy drinking, then go out, and about an hour later, you will find yourself completely shitfaced. This all happens out of nowhere! My compadre and I started the night off by consuming the better portion of the vodka we bought, and got stung much later in the night.

Independently Wealthy Vs. Unemployed
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 31

At the first bar we went to, we met a guy who originally claimed that he was ‘independently wealthy’ when we asked what he did. Later in the conversation, I inquired as to exactly what ‘independently wealthy’ meant. He then informed me that he collects unemployment. Quite a curious situation, but I want to give him a big shoutout because he said that he would check out my blog. Keep doing your thing, playboy.

The Breakdance Battle
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 53

After leaving the first bar, I found myself on the dancefloor at a neighboring bar getting ready for a pretty intense breakdance battle with some fool who had no skills. Actually, I have to back up. First, I had a couple drinks and tried to step onto the dancefloor with a drink in my hand when I was immediately, and I mean immediately, stopped by a bouncer who informed me that drinks were not allowed on the dancefloor. I chugged it and busted out some power moves, but the guy was like all serious about breakdancing and he was getting really upset so I bounced.

This is about the time when I was ’stung’ by The Stinger. We staggered to the next bar, which would be our last for the night, and some bizarre shit went down.

The Bathroom Incident
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 79

So I’m sipping a Red Bull / vodka (I think number 14 for the night) with my travel companion at the next bar when she informs me that she has to pee. This worked out really well because I had to pee too so we made our way to the bathrooms. Unfortunately, the line for the ladies room was really long, so I suggested that she just use the men’s room. We walked past a bouncer on our way in. I’ll repeat: we walked past a bouncer on the way in. Immediately, upon making it past the doorway, my friend was grabbed by the exact same bouncer who just watched her walk past him and informed her that she had to leave. Quite interesting. Since when do you get kicked out of a bar for that, and why didn’t the bouncer just stop her on the way in?

The Corona Debacle
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count: 88

After getting kicked out of that bar, we hit up a liquor store (it was next door) for a Corona six pack. Problem is, we ended up at the hotel in the morning with only two of the six bottles and could not locate the other four bottles anywhere in our hotel room or outside. Did we drink in public? I don’t know, but I was wasted.

The Filet-O-Fish Decision
‘We’re just visiting from LA’ count (final): 126

Somehow I thought it would be a good idea to order not one, not two, but three filet-o-fish sandwiches from McDonalds after getting the Corona. The McDonalds was sandwiched between two liquor stores. I have no clue why I thought that this would be a good idea, but those sandwiches were delicious. Problem is, I still have the ‘filet-o-fish’ taste in my mouth, even after brushing my teeth roughly twenty times since the incident.

We took a cab back to the hotel and I woke up the next morning in my clothes once again. I was disappointed when I saw the filet-o-fish boxes on the floor of the hotel room, but not as disappointed as I was when I realized that the hotel did not have a continental breakfast, but instead simply had a stray juice machine in its lobby. Excuse me? How the fuck do you buy a juice machine when you don’t have a continental breakfast? I was expecting some cantelope or at least a fucking bagel or some toast or something.

Anyway, I had a blast this weeken. Sometimes the best vacations are the ones that are not planned, involve heavy drinking, and come to fruition within ten minutes on a Saturday morning.

Oh yeah, AND when I got home, the first thing I did was check my Google stats (obviously), and I noticed that one of my sites had finally completely climbed its way out of supplemental result hell and into the first page of many popular searches. Who says that nothing productive can happen while you’re drunk?

This entry was posted on Monday, August 21st, 2006 at 9:42 pm and is filed under Crazy Party Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.