#53: Do a Kegstand

Earlier this semester, I was graced with the presence of one of my best friends from home. I mean it only took 3 1/2 years for him to finally come down (great friend he is). Even though I had visited a numerous amount of times at school, it took a good year's worth of badgering and verbal threats to his manhood if he did not come down. I guess they worked as he finally showed up, only a month shy of me leaving school. Now the thing with my friend is that he's not the normal best friend that you have. We get along great, but ever since we've gone off to college, our lives have turned in different directions. While I was hitting the books and forcing myself to learn, my friend was pounding beers and broads at his school. Needless to say, it was a perfect storm when my friend came, as my studious habits were going to have to give way to his eccentric and nonstop style of partying.

Although I'd like to consider myself as a guy who can throw down with the best of them, I cannot keep up with my friend. As he puts it, he is a machine and does not stop for anyone or anything. Trust me. I've tried keeping up with the guy, and all I've ended up with is hungover, unhappy, sleep-deprived, and sometimes in another state. He once woke me up at 8:30 in the morning so we could start pounding some beers that were left over from the night before. I don't know how he does it, even though I'm thoroughly convinced that his days of popping No-Doze finally worked for him. My friend and few other good friends of mine came down along with him and the stage was set for an awesome partying weekend. No one knew what lay ahead, but it involved dumb decisions and a kegstand that I'd like to forget.

My friends arrived late on Friday and by the time I head over to another friend's house where they were staying, they were already drinking. It was 7:00, I barely walked in the door, and I'm handed a beer. This was an ominous sign, as it was the beginning of drunken debauchery to its most excessive point. After pounding beers for a good few hours, we head out to some house parties to see what my school has to offer. By the time we arrive at the party, my friend is slow, lethargic, and drunk. The only solution in his mind, is to keep drinking. And since I wasn't leaving his side despite my best efforts, I was drinking too. Every beer that went down made me cringe, regardless of its brand. Don't get me wrong. I love beer, but there only so much that you can handle of it. With beer drinking, there is only so much I can take before "Mmm! Beer!" turns into "Kill me now, I'm upchucking my brains out." And that night, I was an unhealthy mix of both. The beer was not sitting well with me, when my friend finds a keg. Oh shit.

My friend, being the great opportunist that he is, gets the great idea that his friend (me) should do a kegstand. I immeidately tell him no, citing that I might puke everywhere and I don't want to end the night early. My negative thoughts towards the prospect of hanging upside down, were quickly dashed as chants of "pussy" were exclaimed by many patrons of the party. Oh great. We have just created a scene and now I'm having my manhood being called out all for the sake of proving that I can do a kegstand. Honestly, there is no better way to prove that I'm a man than by doing this. Seriously, we must be apes that frequently participate in circle jerks because we are that dumb at times. I finally succumb to the peer pressure to divert attention away from me and have two of friends hold my legs up. I put my mouth to the tap and began drinking.

As I'm drinking the terrible, cheap beer from the keg, the only thought that could go through my mind is that I hope that I don't puke everywhere. I seriously didn't need that. Over the last couple of months, I have sullied my reputation as being able holding my alcohol, by puking in and on friends' cars, the living rooms of my house and apartment, and even the corner of a bar. I closed my eyes and opened my throat, praying to God that I wouldn't have a sudden reflex to resist the copious amounts of beer going into me. I lasted 21 seconds until I started to kick and kindly request that I be let down. Come to think of it, it was more of a stern "let me down and if you don't, I will hurt you." But I did it, and I didn't puke that night. I was awakened the next morning at 9:00 by my friend to go buy him beer, but I simply turned my phone off and resumed my peaceful sleep. Suck it, him.

This week, my friends and I are in Las Vegas celebrating the twilight of college careers by gambling away all of our money, buying $10 beers, and unsuccessfully picking up foreign chicks. And then it hit me. While holding my $7 Miller Lite (don't forget the extra $2 for tip since that bartender doesn't think that one Mr. Washington is enough) on the 53rd floor of the Palms, I realized that I needed to jump back on the horse and starting writing once again. I don't understand how I reached that conclusion, but the means don't particularly matter at this point.

So after an extremely long hiatus and some newfound motivation, I've decided to pick up where I've left off and continue. And don't worry, I've completed some things on the list and then some. Over the course of the next few weeks, I'll bring you guys up to speed on the progress of the list and add a few wrinkles to make things more interesting. With that being said, I'm going to go gamble some more.