tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23469178.post1011168939807271004..comments2023-11-23T03:18:27.379-05:00Comments on Drinking Stories: The FainterPanchohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09958581809193578202noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23469178.post-46328320207894366462008-04-09T17:50:00.000-04:002008-04-09T17:50:00.000-04:00I second K, as usual.You've challenged me now. Sh...I second K, as usual.<BR/><BR/>You've challenged me now. Should I tell about the time I almost killed you and mom when I fainted in the front seat of the pick-up and hit the accelerator? Or the time I showed my ass to nearly every sports team at our 5A high school? Or the time... oh fuck, this could get bad.Rachelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18150139841875547929noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23469178.post-84002696355545919542008-04-07T22:19:00.000-04:002008-04-07T22:19:00.000-04:00Doug, you kill me. I was actually crying, I was l...Doug, you kill me. I was actually crying, I was laughing so hard at the thought of you sprawled out across some angry Egyptian girl who then shoved you onto a glue gun. Your imagery is definitely masterful. :)<BR/><BR/>At least you got to move away from your embarassing moments. I went to school with the same assholes from age six to seventeen. And kids have looooong memories, especially with regard to anything involving a bra disaster or one of the most popular guys in school asking you to the 8th grade dance as an elaborate joke.<BR/><BR/>You haven't been this prolific in ages. Keep up the good work!Khttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16986109030107010805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23469178.post-20381106731496219652008-04-07T18:21:00.000-04:002008-04-07T18:21:00.000-04:00Hahaha! Oh no! I'm sure my neighbors can hear me d...Hahaha! Oh no! I'm sure my neighbors can hear me dying with laughter over here. Holy shit. Two faints and a vomit. Poor guy! Hahaha.<BR/> <BR/>God, I love embarrassing middle school stories. Like when I was in band in 6th grade, and I played the drums, and I went to school everyday with my snare-drum backpack on my back and my regular backpack worn in front (I mean, it was practical). One day before school in February, when it was really icy out, I was walking through the school parking lot, all bundled-up in coats and backpacks, and I had to cross in front of a stopped car with an 8th grader sitting shotgun (It was Tye Stebbins, of course--the big soccer star). Halfway through passing their car, I slipped on a patch of ice and landed on my back (well, on my snare drum). And, due to this fact that there was a large snare-drum backpack on my back, a heavy school backpack weighing on my front, and my arms were sticking straight out because of all the layers I was wearing, I was like a turtle flipped over onto its shell. I lay there and struggled in their headlights to flip back over and get up, but I couldn't. I was stuck! Did they get out of the car to help?! No! <BR/>After a good minute of wiggling helplessly, it finally dawned on me to slip my arms out of the snare-drum backpack, stand up, and then carefully lean over to retrieve my drum. <BR/>I never could quite bring myself to look Tye Stebbins in the eye.<BR/><BR/>Haha. Thank god for embarrassing moments. They make the best stories!!An American in Alandhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14232691771447258345noreply@blogger.com