Salut! Brett Eugene Ralph! Bravo!

You are some kind savant for these incidenti, no? You make these mere-mortal-type embarrassment stories seem tame like Padre forgot to say his vespers or something. So cool the many gross-out story, Brett Eugene Ralph. So cool.

Si, I have made it with fattie. Si, si. Who among us has no story like this in his closetto? Si. In my youth, under some similar circumstance. I was, how you say... short straw of evening pull. I am in T-bird, and my friend -- is his T-bird. Il mio amico possiede questa automobile-macchina. If I no take the fat one, he says he take these T-bird and fuck off go home. And I am already some drunk (Che coincidiente! I am also drunk of the T-bird cheap vino forto! Che Baccala!), and is kind of what-the-fuck.

And so drunk I no care she has already made some vomit tonight. I no care, I am stupid of the cheap vino forto with, how you say... righteous wood of young man... blue steel hard-on rings like bell. Who here has no such story in his life? Who?

So, this is common story, we know it. But Brett Eugene Ralph! So better to mistake the Kentucky Back Fat for seni grandi! Bellisimo! You are the winner!

Un'applauso per Brett Eugene Ralph! Tutti l'applauso è per lui.

steve wrote:Blue Steel Hard-On Rings Like Bell

If this isn't the title of the next Shellac record, then I ain't buying it.

Thanksgiving of 2001 I'm at the bar with some friends and my ex is calling me and trying to make me feel bad because I wanted to cut things off between us. So I'm pissed off and decide to leave the bar after only having 2 beers. Before I can get up from my seat a friend gives me a shot of Jameson. Then another friend gives me a pint of Bass. This proceeds to go on for the rest of the night. At some point BenjieLoveless gets me with the old ' can I see what kind of keys you have' routine and my friend agrees to take me to his place so i can crash on his couch. As we leave I think I knocked over the table or least knocked a bunch of glasses onto the floor. I know I fell down in the bar and I think I fell in the street as we were walking to his car. We get to his place and I try to run across the street and fall flat on my face. I ended up lying in the street few a few seconds before I got up and ran the rest of the way. As soon as I got to his door I just clutched it in an effort to stand up. I did this same thing in the hall while he opened the door. We get into his place and he helps clean the blood off my face. Him and his roommate put me to bed on the couch and give me a bucket. Well... I managed to not only puke everywhere but in the bucket but I also managed to puke under the couch.

this thread is beyond amazing, and after Brett Eugene Ralph's epic tale I feel I must share anew.

one night I went out with a bunch of friends to celebrate the end of finals week. we played this game called bar golf, wherein each bar is a hole and par is the amount of drinks. after hole 8 i was thoroughly shit-canned and decided to visit my girlfriend...at about 2 in the morning. even though earlier in the day she informed me that she had to work early (she's a nurse) I figured she would probably wan to see me anyway. so first I vomited, and then headed on my merry way.

once arriving at her house I noticed all the lights were out. well I was sure she was still up, so I went over to her window (one of those basement windows). I feared knocking, so I sat by her window and pondered what to do. then this cat walked up, presuming it was my girlfriends cat and it had got out, I picked it up and talked to it. then an idea struck me. why not have the cat knock on the window. i share this idea with the cat and what does it fucking do? it goes up and starts meowing by her window.

anyway, she comes to the window and says "what the fuck are you doing?" and I reply, in a very R&B voice "I came to see you baby." and she says "who's cat is this?" and I say "it's yours girl." she then proceeds to push away the cat and tells me to come inside. I come inside and lay down on the bed.
.......
i wake up to all the lights on in her room and look over, I've only been asleep for 20 minutes, my girlfriend is nowhere to be found. so I get up, walk out the window and walk home.

I get a phonecall the next day and it's my girlfriend. she asks "where did you go?" and I say " I went home." "Why?" she says. "'Cause I woke up and you were nowhere to be found." and she says "yeah, you were snoring so loud, I couldn't get any sleep so I went and slept upstairs." Whoops....
whatever, she is still a nurse and I still play bar golf and we're very much in love. as for the cat? who knows.

-jeremy

if snoring loudly's the worst you got, you must be like a saint or something.

I can't decide whether I like the Brett Eugene Ralph story (though I know he's got more in him - tell 'em about the PRP quiz bowl uniform Brett!), the variation on that theme by Steve, or the crap-spray on the G train story no matter how fake (a mere 2 stops from here, no less).

I have way too many embarassing stories to recount.

hstencil wrote:if snoring loudly's the worst you got, you must be like a saint or something

i am sorry my friend, that story was for the kids. may I refer you to a more "adult jam."

www.electrical.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php ... c&start=30

-jeremy

dude man I read all that noize already. I wanna read YOUR truly embarassing story.

hstencil wrote:dude man I read all that noize already. I wanna read YOUR truly embarassing story.

scroll down...you'll find it.

-jeremy

oh yeah, that one. I have a similar story except there's no lightning bolt but it involves a 20 year old me, a 17 year old girl, copious amounts of bourbon, copious amounts of coitus, and passing out - all in my parents' living room on the night after Derby while they're sound asleep upstairs. Woke up sometime after sunrise, cleaned up, wondered "where the hell did [name withheld] go?," figured it didn't matter and went up to my room to pass out again. Woke up about an hour later to the sound of my parents' bedroom door opening, so the totally panicked wakeup basically saved my (passed out, naked) ass.

The next morning I acted as if nothing happened, and drove back to New York. Correction: rode back with some people, as earlier that weekend I had abandoned my mom's Jeep at a repair shop somewhere in rural Pennsylvania due to the radiator basically falling apart.

Oh and the other memorable part earlier that particular evening: at some Derby party Brian MacMahon gave me some hot fries from Indi's. So I think that made me feel even sicker the next day.

so, you had copious amounts of coitus, and then your parents didn't catch you.

HOW EMBARRASSING!