Tuesday, March 7

The Drunk Scale

Everyone has their own version of the Drunk Scale. For some people, this scale is very linear, and they never deviate from it. However, for Scary Adam and myself, the Drunk Scale is not so much a path in a forest of barley hops, but rather a web of choices which varies from drink to drink much like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book. Because I am narcissistic enough to believe that anyone actually cares about my drinking habits, here is the Angry Drunken Irishman Drunk Scale, with the Scary Adam addendum.

1-3 drinks: Gregarious Angry Drunken Irishman. At this point I am completely coherent. I turn into the loquacious life of the party, talking about any and everything with anybody. I keep my scathing inner monologue to myself, do not offend anyone, and am all around a charming guy. But really, who wants to stop at three drinks?

4-10 drinks: Belligerent Angry Drunken Irishman. I start taking jabs at people, thinly concealing them as "tongue-in-cheek" comments. I tell people they suck, pretending like it's a joke. I all of a sudden gain the magical ability to visualize everybody's greatest fears and insecurities and immediately ridicule them for it. Depending on where in the 4-10 drink timeframe I am, I may or may not apologize for my harsh words immediately. I am at my comedic best, but only at the expense of others. No Oscar Wilde wit is left at this point; there are only George Carlinesque one-liners in my repartee, and everyone will get skewered with my rapier wit. However, I am not incapacitated enough to get into fights at this point. I also begin speaking a lot of Spanish at this point.

10-15 drinks: Horny Angry Drunken Irishman. Everything seems like a viable option for copulation. No woman is off-limits, no matter her or my relationship status at that point. Lamps start to seduce me. Trees begin to grow breasts, and sticking my dick in a hole in the ground is not beyond me at this point. It is at this point that I try to seduce women with Latin. However, the phrases "vagina dentata" (toothed vagina: a Latin idiom for a bitch) and "reginella vaginarum" ("little queen of the vaginas") are not generally successful pick-up lines. At this point, I have offended all but the most jaded women at the party, and am usually left without the "insecure girl who has sex to feel loved" option, because she is off crying due to my harmful comments. I also tend to call ex-girlfriends and try to convince them to come over in Latin. All that matters is getting my dick wet...even if it means fucking the Dorito crumbs out of some land beast's chub rolls.

15-20 drinks: Anything Goes. It is at this point that I am severely incapacitated. Trees are no longer love objects but rather victims of my alcohol-fueled rage. Lamps don't want to fuck me anymore - they want to be broken. Kicking cars outside of a bar seems like a good idea, but I am not drunk enough to fall down as a I race my weaving course away from them when the car alarm goes off. At this point I am ready to fight, fuck, or fall down, with any combination of those three being a viable option. And trust me, I will do any of those with equal zeal.

20+ drinks: Very rarely do I get to this state. If I do, it's because something has upset me to the point where I need to take my anger out on my own body. Puking is an inevitable result, and the only question that remains is where and when. Having sex is not an option, because I am too fucked up to operate the keys to my house, let alone my penis. There will be severe consequences the next day, but luckily I am too busy voiding all the contents of my stomach to care. I will do anything at this point: steal, light myself on fire, flip off burly men whom I do not know, etc. Again, I don't care. I am in a special land where tomorrow doesn't exist, people are objects, and some objects are even people. I am fucked in half and will fight you if you're helping me and help you if you're kicking my ass.

While that scale works pretty well for me, Scary Adam's physiology is substantially different from mine. Although he can generally outdrink me when it comes to beer (hard alcohol is my domain), his body does not function in such a straightforward manner. I have known Adam all throughout college, and have lived with him for the past three years. He is one of the best friends I have ever had, so I feel qualified to recount his drunken antics. Here are some of the Scary Adam Alcohol-Induced States I have seen:

Scholarly - No topic is too inane or offensive to debate with Adam at this point. He will exalt the philosophers he likes, such as David Hume and Jeff McMahan, as gods and will demand that Ayn Rand and Catherine MacKinnon be hung naked in public while blindfolded Mexican children beat them until candy spills out. You will not win a debate with Adam when he is in this stage, no matter how many times he repeats himself. Adam is a debating god...if you can ignore the ketchup on his shirt and the fact that he's spilling more beer than is actually going into his mouth.

Retarded - Honestly, if you didn't know Adam as a sober person, you would think his mother began mainlining heroin when she found out that her unborn child was going to be a mongoloid. Adam tends to sit and giggle at everything at this point. When he's not giggling, he's usually spilling on himself, trying to count his money, or watching a sitcom on Fox. His motor skills are severely impaired, and his ability to urinate in a proper receptacle vanishes. The world is his toilet, and he is going to pee on the seat.
As an example of this, let me recount the following story: after returning home from spending the night at some girl's place, I find Adam in the exact same position as I left him - sitting in his chair and watching TV. I jokingly say that his room smells like pee, because I was going to try and convince him that he had gotten drunk enough to wet himself. However, the look of trepidation that crossed his face soon stopped me. I ask what happened, and he pulls two Gatorade bottles from his closet...each filled with an amber-colored liquid that can only be urine. After laughing at him and asking him why the hell his mom didn't finish the job when she stabbed him in utero with a coat hanger, he explained to me his rationale. Adam tends to set up arbitrary rules for himself. These rules have no foundation in logic whatsoever, but he always follows them to a T. The previous night, he had determined that he was going to leave his room under no circumstances. After all, he had everything he needed - Doritos, a TV, and his roommate's beer. However, he neglected to realize that his room does not, in fact, contain a toilet. Although it literally (I measured) takes ten steps to cover the distance between Adam's door and the toilet, the Arbitrary Rule had to be followed. This is how Retarded Adam operates. (On a funnier note, he actually did leave the room...to empty the bottles of urine so he could pee in them again.)

Truculent - This usually occurs when Adam drinks during episodes of The Shield. He will start fights with anyone, including random people in grocery stores. He will also fight inanimate objects to the death. A perfect example of this occurred last Thursday night, when Adam killed a newspaper dispenser that was apparently talking shit to him. No one is safe from Adam's rage...all you can do is laugh. Here's a conversation from Truculent Adam:

(some girl in a bar is talking about something inane)
Adam: Shut up, war (this is how Adam pronounces the word "whore" when he's in his cups...unfortunately, that girl figured it out)
Girl: Did you just call me a whore?
Adam: You heard me, bitch (I should also point out that this girl was still in her karate garb and had a yellow belt)
Girl: I just got back from karate, I'll kick your ass.
Adam: (standing and yelling) BRING IT, BITCH! I'LL FUCKING TAKE YOU ON RIGHT NOW!

Times like these remind me why he is called Scary Adam. Other times Truculent Adam has come out in force include an instance where he threw a lawn chair at a girl (although he was not actually drunk when this happened), an instance where he demanded that we play bloody knuckles, and an instance in which he kicked a car, puked, and then made out with three girls. Scary Adam 10 mode is not something you want to see.

Comatose: There are a few times when Adam just passes out for no reason. One instance in particular drives this point home. Adam had had about three beers (which for Adam is generally considered a light breakfast) and was sitting in front of the TV when I went out to a party. I came back at three in the morning to find him sitting in the exact same position, full beer in hand, but with his head slumped on his chest. He remained in that position until 7:30 in the morning, when he awoke, turned the TV off, and went back to sleep on the couch.

These are our drunk scales. Bring me a drink and I'll show you.
Click this shit!

1 Bullshit Responses:

Blogger Ravages left the following bullshit...

Fricken hell, I just spat my guts out laughing. My friend's just called the doctor, I swear I am not making it up, afraid I might go into an epileptical seizure. That's how much I am laughing.

8:13 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home