Category Archives: Drunken Antics

Spontaneous beach parties are always more fun at midnight.

When last night began, no one thought that anything too exciting would happen. We were just going to have a small kickback at our house, nothing special, just a few drinks and a few friends hanging out. After all of us joined our friend Amos on the balcony to end Shabbat with Havdalah, we went inside and mingled. Ethan went straight to his room and entertained a few of us with his guitar, others took a few shots of whiskey. As it got later, we noticed a steady stream of people walking past our house towards the beach, the opposite direction that people normally go at that time of night. So naturally, we followed.

As we walked down the dark dirt path, the air was buzzing with excitement and curiosity. No one knew exactly what was going on, they had just gotten word that there was some sort of party on the beach. As we got closer, I could see strobing lights up ahead. We began to hear a pounding bass line rustling through the trees when we suddenly saw people stopping and climbing down the cliff. Following their lead, we made our way down in the dark, somehow without getting hurt. Then we saw it. A mass of people in the ruins on the beach known as jailhouse. Everyone was dancing…which meant a lot of pushing, falling, and yelling in a small area. We stayed awhile and then decided we’d better leave before the cops showed up to shut everything down. It turned out that it was a good thing we did, because one of the party attendees ended up getting robbed and stabbed that night. (This town has gotten sketch in the last few months!)

We all got separated on the way back, so a few of us went back to Amos’ house, since it was between the beach and ours. We hung out for awhile before Brianna made her way there to tell us an outrageous story about how Trevor had narrowly escaped the law. Relieved, we all hung out on the couch eating late night bagels and talking about our bucket lists until Young Wesley, Trevor, and Camry showed up. Not long after they arrived, Camry took Trevor home, and everyone but Brianna, Ethan (who had passed out by this point), and I were left. Brianna and I started our walk home not too long after, combing the road for my lost earring (it had fallen out while Dane and I raced to the beach and I had to find it…they were from my junior prom!).

We were walking back, and out of nowhere, we saw Jameson’s mass of brown curly hair walking in the opposite direction. As we drew closer, we saw him shaking his head. He looked at us and simply said, “I hit him” and kept on walking. Brianna and I were stunned, but let him walk by, knowing we would be home shortly and would surely know what he meant soon. We walked into the house and saw Young Wesley running down the stairs, cursing and bleeding from his chin. He left to the laundry room, with Noella, Camry, and Trevor in tow. Young Wesley, angry and hurt, lashed out. After a heated argument between a few people, Brianna, Camry, Noella, and I headed back up stairs. After awhile, we heard a lot of noise coming from downstairs. We walked down only to find them nowhere in sight. Ten minutes later we discovered them in one of the rooms, the screen off the window from climbing in, and Trevor smoking a cigarette. Not long after that, we heard angry mutterings about Jameson, and they were gone. They came back an hour later and were incredibly cryptic about their whereabouts. We all went to bed not knowing what had happened, and I still don’t know. I would have asked them today, but to be entirely honest, I’m not sure if they would know either.

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My bathroom makes me miss the dirty streets of Vegas.

That’s how bad it is. Most people ended up going home this last weekend for mother’s day, but somehow, things still got trashed.

When I walked into the downstairs bathroom in the morning, I discovered bloody saliva and remnants of vomit on the toilet seat. Blood was smeared on the light switch, the counters, and the mirror. There was even a bloody cup next to the sink. I’m not sure what happened here, but it looked like some sort of drunken party injury gone wild — all over the bathroom.

The sliding frosted glass shower doors are still absent from their place on the shower and lay instead against the wall. These were pulled down by someone weeks ago, but have proven difficult to be fixed. Due to this, water from the shower is all over the ground. There are puddles in the middle of the floor, some with leaves floating in them, for who knows what reason. We no longer have any bath rugs either, so each shower only brings more risk of water damage and mold. The shower itself is no safe haven either. The tub has been covered in beach tar for weeks now, with no sign of the person who caused it cleaning it up.

I’m just thankful there wasn’t any vomit on the ground.

But seriously, it’s times like these where I miss the dirty streets of Vegas, not that I need another excuse to miss Las Vegas.

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The Great American Challenge

Thursday night was the Great American Challenge at our house. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this ridiculous challenge, it consists of teams of 4-5 people consuming: a 30 rack of beer, a fifth of liquor, and an entire Costco pizza, and then attempting a puzzle after all of that is done. The first to finish wins, and vomiting will get you disqualified, leaving your team with one less person to assist in consuming everything.

There were glass bottles shattering in the driveway, cans being thrown out windows, and pizza being eaten off of the floor. Some wild dance moves came out as the night progressed rapidly, perhaps too quickly for some, as a couple of people began to lose their composure (and their dinner).  After every drop of alcohol, crumb of pizza, and all of the weed was gone, the puzzle solving began. This was the most slow-going part of the challenge, as the full and team members fumbled with the pieces. It was quite entertaining to watch, and it was a great kick-off to Cinco de Mayo (Drinko de Mayo?) weekend. See for yourself!

Check out Aaron and Travis’ dance moves!

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Round Two.

On Saturday, after a day of homework, Crystal and I headed to the liquor store again. This time we had a much harder time deciding what to drink.  We narrowed it down to Vodka, and the cashier suggested Skyy. It ended up pairing perfectly with the sparkling cranberry juice I had hiding in the back of my fridge.

It was nearly nine o’clock when we began to pour shots at the kitchen counter. Ethan and Dane were strumming on their guitars, belting out the hits. Travis slowly and diligently drummed on the cajon, spacing out into a quieter world.

Crystal and I had taken a few shots when the house began to fill with people. A little while later, another boxing match broke out on the front lawn. We ran to the balcony and the mansquare to watch, climbing carefully over the railing. Crystal got precariously close the edge as we cheered the contenders on. Renae began fighting with a random girl off the street who kept hitting her in the face, despite a no face shots rule being called out. So Renae began to dole out a few face shots as well, and the random girl quickly backed down, leaving the driveway in a hurry.

After hanging and drinking awhile longer, a big group of us left to walk around. This didn’t last long, though. One kiss later (between two people in the group that would surprise you — yes, they’re going to remain unnamed), the group separated. Travis and his friends went off in one direction while Crystal and I followed the rest of the boys to a party. Once there, everyone turned around, not actually wanting to deal with the crowds. They began to walk back as we trailed behind, trying to get a hold of Travis to find out what party he was headed to. We ended up coming back home, where there was inevitably more guitar playing. A guy who’s been around a couple of times but whose name I do not know happened to pick up Ethan’s guitar. He strummed furiously, showing off in an all too obvious way. After a few hours of listening to a friend of Travis going on and on about something, we all decided to help get Ethan to bed. Crystal and I tried picking him up from his position on the couch, but he just thrashed about, hitting our faces and refusing help. That woke him up, though, and he went downstairs to hang out with Travis and Aaron. In an attempt to escape Travis’ chatty friend, I headed to bed.

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Box it up.

Friday night began with Chinese food for dinner and a trip to the liquor store, where Crystal and I quickly decided to purchase a small bottle of Jaeger. After a few shots of Jaeger back home, Crystal, Trevor, and I set out to play beer pong. Ethan joined in on Trevor’s team and they squared off with Crystal and I. We lost, but it was incredibly close. Aaron and a few of his friends jumped in to play after we were finished, but they chose to play with shots of vodka instead of beer. Needless to say, things got a little crazy.

Someone picked up a pair of boxing gloves in the living room and it was quickly decided that there needed to be a boxing match on the front lawn. Everyone ran downstairs to watch what was about to unfold. Shirts came off and gloves went on as Ethan and Aaron began to fight. They ran at each other, punching and rolling around on the lawn, the grass sticking to their panting, sweaty bodies. After an abrupt end, Renae picked up the gloves and began to fight with another close house friend, Carrie.

By the time that all ended, it was still early, so Crystal and I took a few more shots and played another game of beer pong.  Around then, Nala finally came home. She took a shot with us, made a drink, and after hearing the guitar in Ethan and Wesley’s room, we got up and followed the sound. Ethan and Wesley weren’t there, but Carrie was, strumming on the guitar to herself in the closet. We didn’t know where she had gone after the fight, but we were glad to find her! Then Joel made his way into the room, and picked up the guitar and began to play and sing with charisma that defines his unmistakable character. He played and taught me a few chords before I left for the bathroom, only to find that someone had locked themselves in there. I came back to tell Crystal, who retrieved the key and went to unlock it. We opened the door to find Young Wesley making out with a girl against the sink.

“Well, that’s awkward!” Crystal said to them, just loud enough to muffle the sloppy kissing noises emanating from the room.

A few minutes after we returned to the guitar playing in Ethan and Wesley’s room, Wesley and the girl walked in. Everyone looked at each other uncomfortably before we all stood up and walked out of the room at the same time, perhaps making it more awkward for Young Wesley. We laughed as we closed the door behind us, and headed to the living room.

With the risk of sounding way too cliché, little did we know the weekend was just beginning…Yes, that is what it looks like

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Deltopia

The celebration of “Deltopia” brought more chaos to our house this past Saturday. Formerly known as “Floatopia”, the event used to consist of residents and out-of-towners flocking to the beaches for a day filled with sunshine, drinking, and floating in the ocean. After 2009, my freshman year, it got shut down due to people falling off of the cliffs, people throwing beer bottles and giving others concussions, and the beaches getting trashed. Since then, “Deltopia”, a mini-version in the streets, has reigned.

Our house filled with more randoms during the day, getting dirtier by the minute. Nala and I spent the day walking up and down the street before sitting on our front lawn to people watch. We also managed to ice Travis….twice. For those who don’t know what “icing” is, it’s the drinking game made for bros where you trick a bro into finding a Smirnoff Ice. When he finds it, he’s required to chug it no matter the situation. It was hilarious.

That evening, a few more fights broke out. A random drunk guy wandered into our house, and when asked to leave, he grabbed an empty beer bottle and prepared to smash it over Travis’ head. Another party-goer that Travis had just met earlier that day rushed to his side and pulled out a knife. This of course sent the unwanted guest running down the stairs. Travis did his fair share of kicking people out that night, including the banishing of the lone creepy guy passing out nitrous canisters to everyone he could. A few minutes after he left, he sprinted back up the stairs, as if no one would see him coming back in. He was a strange sight.

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Young Wesley’s Birthday Rager

Friday night, our house saw possibly one of the biggest ragers to happen here this year. It was Young Wesley’s birthday party, and it was quite the celebration. Tons of people (some friends, but mostly friends of friends and randoms) showed up at the house ready to party. We got Wesley a bottle of cake flavored vodka and melted candles to the top, then lighted it while everyone sang him happy birthday. Wesley’s friend also got a DJ to play on our balcony, complete with lasers. The DJ (who was absolutely terrible) blew a fuse after the first half an hour he played, and then came storming into the garage telling us we didn’t know how to work our own circuit breaker.

The party raged on as people climbed onto our kitchen counters to dance. Randoms continued to flow in and the DJ continued to suck. His set up was so bad that people kept tripping over his cords and cutting the music every ten minutes. When the midnight rolled around and the DJ didn’t stop playing, Nala told him to shut it off so that we wouldn’t get another noise violation. He had agreed earlier to turn off the music on time, but once it actually came time to do so, he didn’t follow through. It took a little bit of angry convincing on Nala’s part to get him to quit, but then the crowd cheered for more. After a few minutes, the DJ turned it back on, and promptly got an earful from Nala. Finally, he stopped, but continued to act like a jerk on his way out, pushing and shoving us as he took his gear to the door.

A lack of music didn’t stop people from partying, but they did begin to get unruly. A couple of small fights broke out on the stairs as the rest of the party clamored to get a glimpse of it. Then another girl followed by a small posse, ran up the stairs claiming that she was called to someone to fight there. She yelled repeatedly that the other girl must be too scared to face her before Travis kicked her and the other angry drunks out.

Inevitably, our house was trashed after all of this. Every bathroom had broken glass on the counters. Red cups and little were strewn about, but that was nothing compared to the vomit on the windowsill of the upstairs bathroom. We even found hot pink lipstick marks all over the shower — as if some drunken girl decided it would be a good idea to kiss the definitely dirty shower walls. The next morning, I opened the door to the downstairs bathroom only to discover our flowers had been pulled out of their vase and thrown on the shower floor, along with gobs of hair gel all over. I heard later that people deliberately tried to destroy everything bathroom in our house, but I have no idea why.


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Attacked!

Jameson can now be happy — he’s finally done something crazy enough to make it into the blog. Congratulations are in order for his drunken, not even in Vegas, antics!

Last night Jameson was the last of a group of people to return to the house following a party. A 90s 40s party. Sounds confusing, I know. It wasn’t 90s and 40s themed, but rather 90s attire paired with 40 oz beers. Brianna, Renae, Aaron and I were sitting on the couch upstairs when he ran in, obviously worked up. He started spewing Snoop Dogg laced language and ranting about a girl who left him while they were talking at the party. He went on and on, every other word profane, derogatory, and sexist, all the while making side notes in his gangster accent that he wasn’t actually serious.

This was all funny enough, but it really got weird as he inched his way to stand closer to his good friend Brianna. It was then that Jameson grabbed Brianna’s face and planted his mouth square onto her unassuming and immovable one. He kissed her passionately and drunkenly for a good thirty seconds before turning around and walking downstairs, leaving Brianna shocked, shaken and bothered to say the least. When Jameson came back up the stairs, it was as if nothing had happened. Brianna left shortly after that to brush her teeth, and I went to bed laughing to myself.

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