Whilst at university halls of residence myself and the bass player of the band I was in ate a whole load of minature indian snacks (little onion bhajis etc) but because we were steaming we didn't bother cooking them first.
So I am in bed with my long suffering lady of the time, Tor, and I am slipping in and out of conciousness constantly letting out these hideous wet farts until eventually she wakes me to suggest I might want to go take a shit.
The toilet was a 'wet room' kind of deal where its all tiled so I sat down and managed to successfully take a big poo (more than a few of you guys have done!). After this I felt really sick so I sort of sat there moaning and rolling my head around. Finally I gave in and decided to puke and because it was a wet room I thought "screw it" and just let the puke out onto the floor in front of me. I felt much better, pulled my pants up and got back into bed.
A few moments later the stench hits Tor and she puts the light on to note that I had actually puked in my boxers that were round my ankles on the toilet, before pulling up the weighty undergarments and squidging about a tonne of green raw indian food chunder into my cock and balls, which was now squeezed out onto my belly and most of the bed also.

classy. I think I might have told this story before in some thread on here along with the 'cum vs UV light' story. I apologise if I have...

I can't beat the 'wrong hole' story though, you (sir) have my admiration.

That, chrissummerlin, is good stuff. I've had to leave work due to a "minor farting accident", but the visuals are to good on your post.

When I was at the University of Pittsburgh(johnstown) I decided to drink a bottle of Sloe gin. I just knocked it back. I remember saying it tasted like candy and proceeded with another swig and another. Well, I puked in the sink at my friends dorm room and they got me out of there. I remember the lovely redness of it all. We walked in to my dorm and I slammed the RD's door shut and then puked all over the dorm floor. Luckily I was allowed to go straight to bed. No reprecussions. Although I can't handle the smell of Sloe gin. Or Jack Daniels.

This talk of hotels has reminded me of my most degrading drunk story, or at least the most degrading one in memory.

We were at a networking conference in Atlanta (I think) and one of the VPs of our company had just received some staggeringly bad news pertaining to the company's financial well-being. In order to keep us from spreading the news too far to the rest of the conference, he summoned all the employees of the company in attendance up to his hotel suite and ordered a huge spread for us to sort of cry into, knowing that we were almost certainly doomed to bankruptcy. In this spread were several pizzas, vegetable trays and the like, many beers, and several bottles of gin. We got the last bottle of Bombay Sapphire in the hotel, and after it was gone had to order one of Tanqueray to replace it as many of us were fond of the gin & tonics. Most everyone got quite smashed.

After staggering back to my hotel room upstairs I tried to lie down and get some rest before the seminars the following morning. Unfortunately it was still too soon, and I was struck with that drunk dizziness one gets when they try to lie still and sleep while still ragingly drunk. At least, this happens to me quite often. With the dizziness came the nausea. With the nausea came the desire to vomit. I hoisted myself into the bathroom, with all intention of letting loose the volume of gin in my belly... to no avail whatsoever. I simply could not make myself puke, and the gin kept eating away at my stomach walls. With the idea that it might at least help the dizziness, I decided to draw myself a nice warm bath instead, and sat in that for a while.

Probably an hour or so later I woke up, still in the tub. The water had all gotten cool while I slept so I knew it was probably time to get out and try to lie down in bed again. I inclined myself to drain the water out of the tub, and in doing so compressed my stomach just enough to finally unleash a fury of gin, tomato sauce, gin, cheese, gin and breads into the water I was still sitting in. I sat in this pool of used bath water and vomit until I registered what had happened, and then continued trying to drain the tub so I could now shower the muck off myself. Unfortunately, my biomass had already clogged the drain pretty effectively and the water stood.

Using one of the free glasses they give you in these hotels I spent the next 15-20 minutes bailing what I could out of the tub and into the toilet, still smelling my own vomit and getting sicker still, until I couldn't deal with it anymore and had to pass out in bed. A few hours later I woke up to find the tub mostly drained of water (but still covered in stomach residue) and tried to shower what I could off myself to become presentable enough to make it to the first seminar. The tub quickly pooled with water yet again so I finished as quickly as I could, got dressed into a vendor shirt and some pajama pants, and rolled downstairs to the conference room looking hung over and wishing for death.

When I came back to the room later on, the cleaning staff was in the middle of repairing the tub situation. I walked past quickly and headed for the elevators again.

That was an excellent story. I'm ready for my nap now.

I peed in a sock drawer. My own sock drawer. My then-girlfriend narrated the action to me the following day. Apparently the secret presence of a toilet in my place, a toilet in the unoccupied bathroom exactly adjacent to my bedroom, stealthily evaded my faculties.

I can see the drunken logic, though. A drawer of socks will quite admirably receive and contain the contents of a man's bladder. And once done, close the drawer! Good as a flush.


Note: This is not *the most degrading* thing I've done while drunk, but it's all I want to share, here, at this time, today, right now.

we got drunk in quebec city and when i woke up it was almost 20 hours later and i was on the roof of a van in prince edward island in a walmart parking lot and some lady was screaming at me to get down before she called the cops. i opened my mouth to argue and threw up all over the windshield. then i kind of fell over onto the ground and i couldn't stand up for like an hour. the lady got in her car and drove away and no cops showed up, thankfully.

in vegas i got kicked out of the mgm grand for not wearing enough clothes and i don't remember where my clothing went. that's another blacked-out night. i was missing my shoes the next morning and i had so much glass in my feet and my arms were covered in black ink and i couldn't recall anything apart from buying fries at some point.

went skinny dipping with some girl who definitely stole my clothes. i thought that shit only happened in bad movies.

on day 3 or 4 of my birthday bender i definitely shit my pants in a bar and they sent me home, and on the way there i somehow got lost in what might have been about 10 square feet of 'woods' behind this convenience store and i got so upset that i couldn't get out that i started crying and i think a hobo had to escort me back to the street.

in pittsburgh i got pretty drunk after the show. i don't remember any of this but the band tells me we had to get back into canada that night, only i was crying really really hard because 'everything was too easy' and it was so bad they were worried about crossing the border because i might attack the guard or start screaming or do something really bad. so we had to wait like 20 minutes outside the border at a convenience store while the band made me drink tons of v8 juice until i had calmed down/sobered up enough to get through the border without incident.

countless shit where i woke up naked in front of random company.

once i stepped out of a cab, really drunk, and some dude made a pass at this girl standing next to me and i told the guy to fuck off and he immediately punched me in the mouth really hard.. which isn't that degrading or anything except i still had my hands in my pockets and had to take these giant steps backwards to keep my balance.. anyway on the third giant step backwards i fell over a bike and really hurt my head.

oh and i put a girl in a cab once and told the cab driver to take her to another town like 40 minutes away. she had been bothering me all night and was pretty much passed out in the back seat and i just assumed she didn't have much money on her. at the time i was really pleased with myself but looking back i wish i had been nicer to her, regardless of her being super annoying.

oh shit and at this one show i was drunk and being such a chauvinistic asshole and i was in the basement telling my friends that i was 'calling shotgun' on this one girl at the party and to not touch her etc etc and the girl was definitely standing on the stairs right behind me. anyway later that night i took her into a random bedroom to apologize and i'm right in the middle of this when there's all this banging on the door and some kid is screaming for me to get out of his bedroom. so i lock the door and continue apologizing to the girl, who is looking more and more worried with all the screaming when these huge banging noises erupt. the kid is kicking his own door down with his friends and the door finally swings open, totally busted, and the kid sort of confronts me and as i stand up to him i knock a 2 litre bottle of pepsi onto his playstation or xbox or whatever. and this kid is like half my size, the whole thing was kind of ridiculous.

oh and lastly we threw this party where i think i lost my respect for everybody, but the highlight was going to the downstairs bathroom and finding it locked and with puke trickling out from under the door. went to the bathroom on the main floor only to find that one locked and with more puke trickling out from under the door. then went upstairs to find that bathroom in the exact same condition.

then i figured i would just urinate on the floor somewhere and walked into the nearest bedroom, where i found my friend, passed out and with puke trickling out of his mouth, and some girl on top of him making out with him vigorously. grosssss.

also the next morning i went outside and found this blueberry pie i had misplaced during the party, and i was so excited and i ran back inside and ate the whole thing amid a ton of passed out kids, and then a few hours later when some early risers were waking up i was told by numerous sources that like a dozen kids had peed in the pie.

Davesec - have we met?

I have this favourtie drunken snack - a cheese sandwich with slices of apple and a whole raw chilli. It's fucking amazing and in most cases quite sobering.

One time I got home several beers for the worse and decided to make it. Afterwards I crawled in to bed and called up my partner, who was living in another country at the time. After rambling some horny shit at her I somehow managed to persuade her to engage in some filthy phone sex. She indulges me and all is, how would one put it, "going well", until my cock starts to go a little limp. I put it down to the beer, but then this burning sensation starts - "What in the fuck is going on there?", I'm thinking. It's getting worse and worse and I'm really starting to worry as to why my johnson feels like it's on goddamned fire and I'm caught in two minds as to whether to carry on the whole phone sex charade as by this point I'm limp as a soggy sponge cake and in masses of pain, but the problem is said partner is now really in the mood and clearly imminently about to come, and I'm still saying the horny shit but at the same time really starting to panic a little and thinking that maybe I've beaten off just one too many times and this is it, I've caught some rare masturbation-related fucky disease which is gonna be the death of my beloved johnson....

Then suddenly it hits me: the fucking chilli! it's the fucking chilli on my fucking hands from the sandwich! THERE IS A LOGICAL EXPLANATION. I'm rubbing raw chilli in to my helmet! thank fuck for that! The relief is magnificent. in one swift and graceful movement I manage to get hard again and even finish the job, despite the excruciating pain. I am a man of steel (or rock). I am also a man who is now sensitively aware of culinary dangers that could impinge upon some telephonic lovemaking. Be warned, fellow brethren.

My god, I swear it was the most painful goddamned thing that ever happened to me.