You must understand, I do not consider myself a party person, and have only been to one, ever. This is not a particularly interesting instance of stupidity, but it was quite off putting in its magnitude.
A freshman, I’m guessing 18 years of age, stood up on a table, one of those wobbly card tables, one of those cartoonishly sized Captain Morgan bottles in his hand and screamed “Tonight I’m going to blow a .40!” He then proceeded to chug. There was no cheering, there was only stunned silence as we watched him drink and drink, his adam’s apple bouncing up and down rhythmically. He went through a little less than half the bottle before he stopped, threw his hand up in the air, his face beet red, and yelled, and I quote, “Alright bitches, we ready for shooters!?” There was laughter, but one of the football players stood up and said “Dude, you know you gotta throw that up or you’re gonna die.” After a brief debate over whether or not he would die from ingesting that much alcohol, mostly consisting of “No, no, I can hold my booze” and “You’re a retard,” the football player, a 6’4″ black guy who looked as though he was smuggling melons in the sleeves of his shirt, compared to the 5′ 10″ white kid who looked to weigh about 150 lbs, punched him in the stomach and he threw up. Not on the floor or anything. His cheeks filled with vomit, he screwed up his face… and swallowed it back down. He looked at the football player and told him, “If you touch me again, I’ll show you what I can really do.” I left at that point, because I am not a fan of being involved in drunken brawls, no matter how entertaining they may be. I was later informed that the football player called 911, told everyone that the party was over, and basically held the kid hostage until an ambulance arrived so he could get his stomach pumped. The football dude was pretty cool, I was impressed how he handled it.
Note, this was at the beginning of my freshman year, like a week in, so my memory is a little hazy. I am like 90% sure this is what he had, it’s the same shade and size.
I would also like to point out that he was WASTED by this point. Like, stumbling. And he drank that much on top of it.
Was at a party and someone’s shitty old truck got stuck in some mud so instead of sobering up and coming back the next day, he makes a Molotov cocktail with gas and throws it at the truck. The truck caught fire and was completely destroyed.
Shit on somebody. I was at a party in college and one guy was passed out in a chair. Intoxicated guy decides to fart in his face, pants down, bends over, gets close and lets it rip. Only it wasn’t just a fart. Perhaps the mass consumption of Bud Light had loosened his bowls, but be sprayed shit on the passed out guy’s face. He woke right up screaming and throwing punches.
I DJ’d a college Halloween party. By midnight, a bunch of locals had come in off of the street. It was obvious who was a student and who was a local. The newcomers were there to rage and before too long the dance floor was out of control. I tried to control things by reigning in the energy level with slower songs but the crowd would literally explode in anger every time I played anything but club rap.
Now, you are probably asking yourself, “self, why did this guy not want a high energy dance floor…isn’t that his job?” Just keep in mind that drinks were being spilled, less aggressive people were getting pushed off the floor and the level of testosterone in the room made fights an inevitability. When you have thousands of dollars of gear in a small room with a hundred drunk, sweaty randos, safety concerns start to become important.
I wasn’t surprised when the fight started…but I was surprised by who it involved and what it was about: a clearing opened in the middle of the floor as a large, local man screamed at a smaller, female student that had apparently stepped on his shoe. “Don’t think I won’t fuck you up cuz you’s a bitch!” Immediately I moved to intervene before realizing how much equipment I would have to replace if the guy had friends nearby.
Luckily for everyone, someone came to intervene almost immediately. It was a costume party and our intrepid hero was wearing nothing but a fig leaf. In the midst of the angry man’s insane tirade, the fig-wearing fellow stepped between the man and the woman and proceeded to gyrate suggestively, basically grinding on the other guy in the most exaggerated homoerotic manner imaginable. Neither man said a word…where before he had been ready to fight at the drop of a hat, the man abruptly turned tail and left the party, clearly embarrassed and confused.
I had a fraternity brother who was 7 feet tall. Great guy, but got a bit wound up when drinking. We were having a social with another sorority in the back parking lot…bon fire and several grills cooking various meats. Tall boy gets into a fight with an unfortunate soul, and literally throws him into the bonfire (luckily, someone had JUST added a piece of plywood that offered protection and the guy bounced off the new wood and out) – proceeded to hop into his car, which was a comically small Plymouth Horizon (he looked like a circus clown in that thing)…was shouting “Fuck yous” to everyone out the window as he did donuts in the gravel…lost control and barreled through the row of grills. Backed up and out the driveway, spun the tires onto the road and was instantly pulled over by a passing squad car.
This girl came flying down some stairs trying to shotgun a beer using a plastic knife. Then she threw the unopened beer across the room while simultaneously passing out. It was her birthday so no one minded except the guy who got hit in the head with a full beer.
You know those cheap $1 plastic lighters that you can remove the safety from and turn into mini flamethrowers?
A stoned dude spent a few minutes tweaking one so it made a ~4 inch flame, forgot he rigged it, then used it to light a bowl. Burnt his eyelashes and eyebrow clean off his face.
The house smelled like burnt hair for hours.
My friend (sometimes does too many drugs) for some reason took acid at a crowded party. He proceeded to feel trapped in the corner of the room and instead of trying to get to the door through the crowd he started to kick a hole in the drywall. The walls of the apartment were thin and he eventually made a hole big enough to crawl through to get into a bedroom, where he then jumped out of a second story window and tried to run home.
Jake. Fuckin’ Jake, man. That’s what we’ll call him, anyway.
He was a short, kinda skinny guy, you’d almost call him punk rock but not quite, he had a dark curly little mohawk with dark hair on the sides. He was just a spunky little dude.
Jake got someone to spray him in the eyes with AXE body spray. He was just drunk and “Wanted to know what it felt like.” Bunch of people said fuck no until one girl agreed. She did a quick spray, shh, he says “AAAAHH! NO, MORE! DO IT MORE!” She yells, “OKAY, FUCK!” shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH FUCK THAT HURTS FUCK FUCK. Jake’s eyes were red and swollen for days.
Another party we were at, Jake was wasted and “went outside to smoke a cigarette.” Right when we’re thinking, “Man he’s been out there for a while” Jake comes back into the party. Naked. Well, not quite naked. He had ripped the Christmas lights off….somewhere, I don’t know where, and wrapped them around himself. While wearing that and the santa hat he had been wearing all night, he proceeded to run around yelling HO HO HO MOTHERFUCKERS WHOOOOOO!!!! until someone got him to stop.
Another time, we were at a party at his house, and Jake throws a sword across the room. IN A PARTY. FULL OF PEOPLE. The craziest part, besides the fact that no one got impaled, was that it actually fucking stuck into a case of PBR that was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. The whole room just stops, stares in awe, then watches as beer just KSHHHHHHHHH squirts everywhere.
Ugh, that guy is nuts.
We had a lot of people over for the SuperBowl. Some of my friends invited a few of their friends, who I didn’t know, but I was still cool with it.
Later on in the night as we’re all drinking, and I step outside for a smoke with my friend, and return a few minutes later.
This guy, total stranger to me, had raided my fridge and prepared snacks for everyone. Not that anyone had asked him for food, and I had already provided football snacks. No, he lined up a buffet of several bowls of cereal, sandwiches, microwaved my leftovers, and was fixing a dozen or more plates by unwrapping granola bars, cookies, literally everything that didn’t require the stove. Opening yogurts and spooning them into a bowl with a serving spoon. Used all my lunch meats and cheeses on the sandwiches.
He called us all into my kitchen, very proud, “I fixed dinner for everyone! Grab whatever you want!” I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I didn’t want to make a scene and this drunk guy was just trying to be nice. Everyone happily grabbed plates, many people wasted extras. I took him aside and tried to keep cool as I asked him, What the fuck. He didn’t understand why I was upset, and thought I was being a dick when I asked him to help clean the dishes.
I got kicked out of my own party by someone I had never seen before. I was living in a duplex that had a connecting door in the back, and any time the neighbors had a party we would too so it was like just one giant party. Anyhoo, this chick from the other party decides it’s time for the party to be over (like 2am) and starts going around kicking everybody out. The girl who owned the apartment wanted everyone to stay and not drive drunk and I had told everyone the same on my side, but this random chick is telling all these drunk people that they have to go now.
Before I realized what was happening, she walks up to me in my living room and says, “Time to go.” We continued to argue for a few minutes and she was having none of it until finally my neighbor came in and told her who’s apartment she was in.
To this day that bitch still has a grudge against me for not leaving my own house, the party was like 5 years ago and I see her every now and then and she always gives me the stink eye.
Kids at my school lined the second floor of their frat with painters plastic. then they opened all the windows and let the faucets and showers run onto the floor. They made this amazing ice skating rink with obstacles like couches to skate around and sit on. It was really cool until the next morning until the house started to make horrible creaking sounds. everyone got out and a few hours later the second floor collapse through the first floor into the basement. The party was sick. Frat lost its charter. I never found my skates.
Be at high school halloween party for some random rich popular girl. Easily over 100 kids there in huge backyard.
Saw this guy pouring an extensive amount of glitter in an empty 3 liter soda bottle. Literally half full of glitter. He then tosses a string over the highest tree branch he can near the middle of the yard. Next he grabs a few pieces of dry ice, pokes them in the bottle, caps it, and then pulls it up into the tree above the party. Only a handful of people notice him doing this. After he ties off the string to the fencepost, he walks past me and says,”Now would be a good time to go inside.”
So we walk inside the house and watch through the sliding glass door. Then it happens. BOOM!!! Bottle explodes and makes the most beautiful glitter snow you’ve ever seen. Everything and everyone in the backyard now infected with the herpes of craft supplies.
One of my best friends confided in me that the reason she has back problems (at age 21) is because a party she was at in high school was “raided” by the cops. She was drinking underage and high, so in her confused state she decided that the best course of action was to jump out a window. On the second floor. Above a parked car. She landed on her back on the roof of the car hard enough to leave a dent and then ran off.
A rather drunken gentleman at a party my freshman year of college tried to open a non-twist off bottle cap with his teeth and ended up basically destroying two of his molars.
On a separate occasion a few years later, I saw someone try this with their eye socket and they cut their eye lid pretty bad. A lot of blood…
Repeatedly headbutt a stove while his buddies cheered him on.
A drunk guy I knew was going to show off how to do a cartwheel-into-backflip. Indoors. At a party.
Now, sure, there might have been enough space in the room to do this backflip – in his drunken mind. See, what he hadn’t considered, being significantly alcohol-impaired, was that the space he had calculated would be enough to jump in after running out of the hallway, was bisected by a glass sliding door which he likely didn’t see in his drunken stupor. Never mind that the room was rather crowded, because I guess he figured people would just stand aside like the crowd moving away from the main characters in a movie dance scene.
So, with the environment described, you can guess how this went. Mister smarter-when-drunk proceeds to do his cartwheel, then starts on his backflip, slamming right into the window. Ends up on the patio, aghast, and oddly quiet. Then the regular routine of omg-call-the-ambulance, omg he’s in pain, omg keep him from touching the glass, omg here’s the ambulance, omg did you see that led to the party ending prematurely.
He was alright, though. Lots of cuts, lots of stitches, but alive and intact.
I was at a party while I was in college and saw a midget girl try to dance up on a guy from behind to complete a girl-boy-girl grind sandwich. Not that I’m against inter-height dancing or anything, but the guy dancing didn’t have a clue she was back there.
Anyways, the guy trips and timbers backwards. The poor girl put her hands up to try and catch him.
One guy at a house party I was at got super drunk and kept “sliding” down the stairs head-first. He looked like he was having fun, though. He’d climb up to the top and would jump down, Superman-style over and over again.
Have you ever met one of those guys who tries to come across as being somber and mysterious in an effort to compensate for his lack of… well, anything? You know the sort: They talk about all of the dark and depressing things that they’ve experienced in life, tell long-winded tales in which they cast themselves as maligned heroes, and frequently forget the details of their own stories when it’s convenient.
I had the chance to watch one of those guys completely crash and burn while in pursuit of a willing paramour.
The event in question took place some seven or eight years ago, at a party being held in one of the townhouses that were just outside of my college’s campus. The hosts had done a great job of offering a wide variety of entertainment, including access to an upright piano (where one of the guests had parked herself and played video game theme music). There were thirty or so people milling around, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits.
Everyone, that is, but Jake.
Jake was a guy of slightly above average height and slightly below average weight, but his slumped posture and too-tight clothing gave him the appearance of being shorter and heavier than he actually was. I first saw him standing in a corner of the living room, glaring out at the world in general like it had called him a rude name. As the party went on, I discovered that he was actually waiting for his chance to approach the piano, which he did as soon as its bench was vacated. Then, with a sigh and an exaggerated motion, he started playing the introductory lines of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
Now, I confess, I might not have noticed any of this if I hadn’t been trying to hold a conversation with a young woman named Heidi, who was also present at the party. Unfortunately, as soon as Jake started his performance, she took me by the arm and dragged me over.
“You’re pretty good!” she said with a cheerful voice.
“Yeah,” replied Jake. “It’s the only way I can express myself. I’m Jake, in case you were wondering.” Without waiting for answer – and after letting loose another sigh – he restarted his recital. He made it through about eight seconds of the song before deciding to stop and readdress his audience.
“So,” he said, looking up at Heidi, “what do you think?”
Heidi responded with a bright smile. “It’s beautiful!” She looked as though she had more to say, but Jake interrupted her.
“Yeah,” he said. “I wrote it when my little sister was in a coma.”
For a brief moment, Heidi stayed silent. When she next spoke, though, the warmth was gone from her voice and replaced by a tone that implied a sense of dark mischief.
“What’s your major?” Heidi asked.
“Psychology,” answered Jake. “As a genius, it’s fascinating to learn how normal people…”
Suddenly, Heidi interrupted. “Oh, that’s great. I’m a music major.” She offered him a saccharine smile, sat down next to him at the piano… and started playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Jake, finally understanding that he’d been caught in his lie, slid away and started to leave.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Heidi called after him. “I wrote this when my little sister was in a coma! Don’t you want to hear it?”
Jake left the party alone that night. Unfortunately, I did as well… but at least I had (most) of my pride intact, which was more than I could say for him. Also, from that point on, people on campus would refer to him as “Beethoven.”
I was at a show (that’s kind of like a party, right?) and guy I know had taken too much acid and had taken it upon himself to try to get onstage. So he climbed up a guidewire like a monkey and when security told him to get down, rather than letting go and falling to the ground, he kept holding onto the wire and slid down to the bottom. Byebye flesh. You could see the bones in his palms.
Junior year of college. I guess it wasn’t so much a party as my four roommates and myself, and our girlfriends hanging out drinking. Pretty standard guys getting retarded shit faced, girlfriends drinking but still eye rolling and thinking we’re totally stupid (not untrue).
So we’re pretty hammered and my buddy tells this story about how back in high school he worked at a grocery store. Him and his coworkers would get bored and…snort stuff. Sugar, salt, brown sugar, pretty much anything. I have no idea WHY someone would do this, but we thought it was hilarious.
“Dude…do it now, come on. Pussy”
He protests a little, but we’re giving him a hard time and he caves.
“Fine, fine, what am I snorting?”
Crushed up bacon bits. He crushes them up on a paper plate, gets a little piece of paper rolled up, and gets ready to do it.
His girl friend is PISSED. “NO DON’T DO IT. DON’T DO IT, COME ON THAT’S SO DUMB.”
My buddies and I are cheering him on, he gets himself pumped up, and snorts up an enormous line. He is immediately doubled over. “IT BURNS! AHH”
Of course we proceed to piss our fucking pants laughing.
His eyes are watering, he’s coughing. His girlfriend is starts crying when his nose starts bleeding.
God. It was fucking glorious. Just glorious. Wildly, terribly dumb. But glorious.
Watched someone at a party crawl to the bathroom after doing 7+ shots of vodka. They were shouting “FUS RO DAH” on each of their steps and then eventually they shit themselves on the “dah.”
24. Damn that’s bad
This was back in college, my freshman year. It was the first or second weekend so my random roommate and I were walking from house party to house party. We get to a house and some guys are playing quarters around the kitchen counter. There’s a bottle of Bacardi 151 between them. Some girls are watching them play. One guy decides he’s going to impress the girls by taking a flaming shot. He pours the Bacardi 151 into the shot glass, lights it with a match, and then takes it like a champ—the blue flame disappearing inside his mouth. The girls cheer.
Now another guy wants to take a flaming shot. He pours the 151 into the shot glass, lights it on fire, and then brings it to his lips. I’m not sure if the heat startled him or what happened but the guy sort of hesitates and then splashes the shot onto his face, which erupts into flames. The other guys start dumping beer on him and the smell is just terrible. His friends took him to the hospital. I remember seeing him around campus a few weeks later with his face all scarred up from the second degree burns.
I saw a chick throw up into another girls mouth. She swallowed. It was gross.
Try to shoot a bottle rocket out of his ass at a 4th of July party. He clenched, and his balls got showered with hot sparks while the rocket went nowhere. After a whistling hellishly, the rocket exploded only inches from his taint.
Fun Fact: That person was me.
27. Almost as bad as that guy who danced to Gangnam Style with an automatic in his hand (he ended up accidentally killing 3 people)
Darwin award. Guy that I knew of in high school thought that because he was “gangster” he knew how to handle a gun. Grabs a revolver from the home and tries to cowboy gunslinger it by spinning it on his finger. He got 1 or 2 rotations in a and “BANG” one .38 round right to the empty space between the ears. Party died just as fast as he did.
One time I was at a party and someone suggested they do the Harlem Shake. What made it so much worse was that it was like 4 months after the craze had finished. I didn’t join. I sort of looked on in disbelief. Two minutes later I had tipped my fedora to most of the girls in the party and was on my way.