College brings you from your lowest lows to your highest highs and back again — and for this guy, tonight was a night that he’ll probably be happy he doesn’t remember in the morning. But, we have a few questions for him before he sobers up and realizes what he’s done.
Did it taste better the second time around?:
They say the third time’s the charm, but they have never tasted the sweet, oaky richness that accompanies the second appearance of some half-digested milk and potatoes that have been sitting in a drunk guy’s warm stomach cavity for hours. Is this what baby birds feel like?
Dude, what did you eat?:
We noticed a tinge of green and the distinct smell of rotten diaper – and was that little bits of asparagus floating around in there? Whatever it was, please do everyone a favor and never eat it again – or at least pull trig before you know you’re going to be in a bar full of other belligerently drunk assholes.
Did you even think of washing it out first?:
Like, alright, you made sure you didn’t explode your insides all over the inside of Cactus and you dumped your Cup-O’-Vom into the nearest trash can before asking for another round, but seriously, you couldn’t have been bothered to ’86 the side of stomach acid in your Coors with a quick lil’ rinsey-rinse? That’s some primal shit, man.
How would you rate your problem-solving skills on a scale of 1-10?:
We get that sometimes everything happens so quickly, and all of a sudden you realize that the babe you’re canoodling at the bar is about to get a nice warm apron of the mystery meat that came in your Lean Cuisine that night, but couldn’t you have thought of a better place to aim your mouth-cannon? Boilermakers work under pressure, and if you can’t take the heat, take that shit to IU.
How would your mother feel about this?:
You took that last shot of Fireball, the one that really set you over the edge, with the justification that, “Momma ain’t raise no bitch,” but something tells us that your mom would’ve preferred you uphold a level of dignity that was just not present when your body turned itself into a much less majestic version of Old Faithful.
What kind of friends do you have?:
Were they the kind of friends who peer-pressured you into going out, then looked the other way when your Cactus Cup was overflowing with the contents of your stomach and people were starting to stare? Or did they turn the situation into an Asher Roth wet dream and cheer you on while you downed another beer in that very same cup?
Was it worth it?:
From the countless rejections you’ve experienced after your not-so-eloquent encounters with women 12 times out of your league, to nights spent wondering how you’re going to pay the $60 bar tab you just racked up, to the time you dropped your phone in the Cactus toilet post-shit – your trusty cup has been there through it all. This is how you repay it?
We hope this guy takes this opportunity to reflect on his choices and decide how he’d like to spend his next Cactus outing – but who are we kidding, we know he’ll probably do the same shit next weekend. When it happens, we’ll be here with more questions. Happy drinking, dude.