Guys, this is a safe space to share all the times you got super drunk and then ran a destructive chaos train over some innocent munchies.
For some reason, alcohol turns you into an aggressive food monster. I mean, I'm sure science has some boring explanation for why the second alcohol touches your mouth you turn into a Tasmanian devil, but for all us laypeople out there, the only equation you need to know is:
Good Decisions / Alcohol x Food x Rage = Waking up covered in Cheetos dust and bacon grease.
It's like getting your blood alcohol content level higher than a 0.08 automatically turns you into a messy food magnet. Nobody ever gets drunk and then cleanly eats a kale salad.
No! You get drunk, you stumble your way into a Taco Bell and you ask the workers to pour extra cheese onto the outside of a quesadilla BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ADULT, AND YOU CAN MAKE YOUR OWN DECISIONS AND YOU ARE CAPABLE.
Anyway, here are a bunch of people who got wasted in the presence of food.
After a long night of partying in Vegas, I woke up in the hallway of our hotel, still kinda drunk, in my underwear, with a slice of pizza on my chest. I'm not sure if it was my pizza and I had fallen asleep while trying to eat it or if someone had put it on me while I was passed out, but it somehow ended up there… and you know I ate the rest of that bitch for breakfast. #NoShame
One time a boy gave me gelt when I was drunk, and I put it in my bra and when I woke up, my boobs were covered in melted gelt. I texted him and he was like, 'I told you last night you'd regret doing that, but you insisted.'
My nights don't end unless I have drunk fries. Drunk fries are just like regular fries, except they're usually slathered in chipotle mayo or cheese or something super gooey. On that note, you don't f*ck with my drunk fries. One time, I was eating at a small burger shop in the Lower East Side at, like, 4 am on a Saturday, and this guy proceeded to try to talk to me as I was shoveling fries into my mouth. He asked me if I could share a couple with him while he was waiting for his food to be made. I literally got up, took my basket of fries and moved to the other end of the burger bar just to avoid having to share my fries. Moral of the story: Don't touch my f*cking drunk fries.
Last month I was out with friends and got weapons-grade drunk, and my girlfriend asked me if I wanted to go home, and I nod and say, almost to myself, 'Yeah, there's a rotisserie chicken in the trash I'm gonna eat.' Explanation: I had thrown out a rotisserie chicken, still in its packaging, because I left it out that afternoon. I went home and ate that chicken while watching television shows about murder, and it was cool.
One time I walked through the Taco Bell drive-thru and ordered: 3 Doritos Locos Tacos 2 Crunch Wrap Supremes 3 Cinnabon Cinnamon Holes 1 Jumbo Pepsi Crushed that all back at home but I was still hungry. Our friend was over taking his time sweet time dilly dallying with his nachos. I pretended like I was really tired so he would leave. LUCKILY, my plan worked perfectly and he left the nachos on our living room floor... where I ate them off of. Also one time we were at a bar and there was a couple with the most delicious looking GIANT plate of nachos. They weren't touching it and my friends and I were starved. Finally, I had enough. I marched over and asked if they were going to finish their nachos. They said no and mama won herself some free nachos (yes, I'm 'mama' in this story).
One of my friends claims I once got super drunk and kicked over a halal truck sign because they wouldn't give me pizza and then threw my half-eaten Big Mac in the snow.
My senior year dorm neighbor (who, OK, I was sleeping with) got mozzarella sticks in a plastic container from a grocery store after his birthday party, which I'd skipped. He got to his room, put the plastic container in the oven to heat up, and promptly fell asleep. Sure enough, the fire alarm went off at 5 am, and I saw a sh*t ton of smoke coming from his room. The whole building had to go outside in the middle of a polar f*cking vortex at 5 on a Saturday night. I found him in the crowd looking sheepish. He was clearly trying to not let anyone else know he caused the mess, and quietly explained what he'd done. He had woken up to all this smoke in his room and in a drunk/hungover daze, decided that the best plan of action was to simply turn off the oven, open a window and walk around the neighborhood until the smoke cleared. He walked back to the building to find the alarm going off and everyone outside. Once they cleared the building, we walked to his room and dealt with the firemen -- who had to break down his door to get in. The door could barely open or close for the rest of the year. He is a f*cking idiot. Those grocery store mozzarella sticks aren't even that good.
One time when I was drunk I made out with a worker at a burrito place to get a free quesadilla. I think he got fired. Also, one time I followed a guy to his place because he said he had bagels and then when I got there I ate all of his roommate's trail mix and then we made out while I held two mini bagels in both of my hands and took bites in between our kisses. Also, one time I stole an entire cheese wheel on a boat. It was brie. Also, I once woke up and found a pizza in my purse.
I made my ex-boyfriend leave a bar with me and go to the dollar pizza place across the street. Clutching three singles in my hand, I asked him what he was going to get and he replied, 'I'm not hungry, what are you gonna get?' I angrily snapped something back along the lines of, 'It's not the same if I have to eat it alone,' stormed out of the restaurant and, with all my might, threw my crumpled singles down onto the sidewalk as I speed-walked home.
I once ran out of french fries to dip into my cheese sauce so I just ended up using my fingers like a claw crane machine and just eating it straight. Obviously I was wasted. This was also in front like 30+ people at the late night restaurant everyone went to at my college. #NoShame #SomeShame
Once upon a Friday night out, my drunken friend complained for food until we finally took him to a local hot dog spot and braved the drunchies line. He complained and complained until the food was in his hand. He ate one, then promptly headed outside and chucked the tots to the pavement. He then walked away, remorselessly.
NOW GO GET DRUNK AND SCUD MISSILE A HOT DOG CART!
*Name has been changed