I started drinking around 4:30pm yesterday. I was drunk by 5:30pm. I passed out in my boy Avi’s guest bedroom after puking in his guest bathroom around 7:45pm. Instead of talking about the excessive drinking that happened at Happy Hour, the oral sex that may or may not have occurred between two members of my group, the various illicit substances that were made available once I awoke from being passed out, or the sexy dance number given by a certain someone wearing no underwear while at Happy Hour, I would like to talk about what happened after I woke up from being passed out. Why? Um, four words for you: tequila and gay bars.

After waking up around 8pm from being passed out, I got a cab back to my place so I could puke more, take a shower, change my shirt, masturbate, and put some expensive product in my hair. Why the product? I was on my way to hit up the gay circuit.

While at home, I did all of the above, had another beer, and hopped in a cab to head out to some hipster bar in Hollywood, where I ordered a 32oz High Life. Yes, they serve High Life in 32oz bottles at hipster bars. No, I don’t like High Life. Yes, the 32oz High Life bottle is typically split among multiple. No, I did not attempt to split the 32oz High Life bottle with either of the two classy bitches I was with.

After the hipster bar, the ladies and I went to West Hollywood to get drunk(er) and see a lot of cock. If you are a regular Fat Dick Simon reader, you know that everytime I do shots of Tequila, crazy stuff happens. That being said, we started out with a round of double Patron shots. That’s how I roll.

We made our way to another gay bar, where I got some more double tequila shots and transformed to a dancing machine as soon as I heard Kelly Clarkson. Speaking of being a dancing machine, there was another dancing machine (gay) who tried to make out with me after I rubbed my ass on his dick. Call me crazy, but I would rather give another guy a blowjob than make out with him.

Unfortunately, I can’t mention certain activities that happened at the gay bar because what happens at the gay bar stays at the gay bar, but I will say that there were plenty of gaysians, and there was plenty of dancing, including some super hot action involving the railing on the dance platform.

My favorite thing about being at a gay bar is that you can dance with anything and everything. No one gives a fuck. AND everytime you urinate, you get at least one blowjob offer. Oh, also if you pretend to be gay, you can grab boobs all night without fear of being slapped. Gay guys get away with that shit for some reason.

While leaving the bar, I realized that one member of our group, let’s call her Classy Bitch #1, was starting to feel the effects of the roofie-colada I gave her was pretty inebriated. The other member of my group, we’ll call her Classy Bitch #2, had somehow managed to take off her bra and was looking good. Classy Bitch #1 had problems walking, so we had to rest on the corner while a big group of flamboyantly gay guys were flashing a camera. These gay guys were under the impression that they were being filmed for The Real World. Hey, jackasses, Real World Los Angeles was done in 1993. Remember? That was the season with that alcoholic Irish guy and the black guy that got kicked out.

Let me paint a picture for you. No really, I opened up MS Paint and painted this gem below because it was the highlight of my night, and even a literary talent like myself cannot skillfully craft the English language well enough to accurately describe what happened. The scene below depicts Classy Bitch #1 puking on a hill, Classy Bitch #2 holding back Classy Bitch #1’s hair, and your boy Fat Dick holding Classy Bitch #2’s bra. I smelled it.

You’ll notice that Classy Bitch #1 is in the doggystyle position and Classy Bitch #2 looks like she is mounting classy Bitch #1. This was really hot. I got a halfie when I was imagining them doing that scissor thing with their legs that lesbians always do. Hot. Plus, since Classy Bitch #2 had already removed her bra and since Classy Bitch #1 was getting into some weird positions, I got plenty of nipple peeks. Hot.

I expected the night to end with me trying to leave the club with a creepy older guy who invited me back to his place to ’smoke some weed and watch his plasma TV’ (that’s how it starts with the homosexuals), but I ended up being remarkably sober at the end of the night despite having consumed somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty drinks throughout the course of the day.

Realizing that I was sober made me wonder if the night was a waste until I heard Classy Bitch say the following:

“I haven’t been this drunk since my 21st birthday”

Success. Hey, tequila will fuck you up. I can’t even count the number of times that I have puked outside of gay clubs after taking tequila shots.

I would write more, but I have an appointment for an AIDS test that I have to get to.

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 10th, 2007 at 12:20 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.