Editor’s Note: The wild stories, spring break-related and otherwise, keep trickling in. This one comes from Australia, where our American Bro is studying abroad for his junior year.
7:00 p.m.: I head over to my German buddy’s house to start pre-gaming since there is a house party that night and we always like to show up and be the drunkest guys at the party.
7:20: I arrive at my friend’s house to find not only has he not gotten beer yet, but he is sleeping, apparently still hungover from the night before.
7:21: He is up and we are walking to the beer store.
7:30: As I walk into the store and start walking to the fridge where the beer is he stops me and says, “Maybe we should get something a bit stronger for tonight.” I promptly agree and proceed to start walking to the liquor aisle. Again he stops me and says, “I was thinking maybe some goon instead.” Not knowing what the f*ck goon is I ask him “what the f*ck is goon?” to which he replies, “just trust me.”
7:35: We are in the boxed wine aisle, what the f*ck. I wonder to myself if this kid is f*cking serious as I thought boxed wine was only allowed to be sold to sl*tty 14-year-old girls and your average hobo. “What flavor do you want?” he asks. The choices included these: Fruitopia, Crisp Apple, and Roasted Almond. The label on the back of each read “May contain traces of nuts, eggs, wheat, and animal products.” Great.
7:40: I am paying $9 for a four-liter bag of “Fruitopia” boxed wine, questioning my own sexuality.
7:45: Finally, I get to drink. We break open our boxes and I pour myself a nice big glass of “wine” and begin my night. O.K., so it wasn’t the grossest thing I’ve ever drank but I sure felt like Richard Simmons drinking it. Hey, whatever, I was going to get drunk any way I could, right?
8:00: My buddy’s roommates get home from a day of surfing. There are 10 of them, all guys, and they range in nationality from German to English to Irish to French.
8:02: They sit down with us and start chanting “Gooooon! Gooooon! Gooooon! Goooon!” I sit and stare as I wait for them to bring out a small underage girl and start filming an international bukkake. This never happens. Instead they all run to corners of the house and each comes back with their own box of “goon.”
8:05: They sit around the table and start drinking with us. I feel like I am the United States Ambassador at the Gay United Nations convention.
8:20: Although I am starting to feel a slight buzz (goon is 14% alcohol) I would like to introducing my American expertise in drinking games to the occasion.
8:30: We are playing “goon pong” with full cups.
9:30: I am completely shit-faced drunk and nearly all my goon is gone.
10:00: We arrive at the party. Yes we are the drunkest people there as planned.
10:10: Someone decided to bring the cups and balls with us so we continue playing “goon pong” at this party. As I looked around I realized I’ve never met or even seen any of the people at this party; however, the girl-to-guy ratio was nearly 3:1 and I liked this.
10:16: I ask one of my buddies “Dude who’s party is this anyway? I don’t know anyone here.” His reply, “Oh yeah, it’s some girl’s 16th birthday party.”
10:17: I am running out of the house and down the street, shit-faced and confused.
10:20: I stop running as I have no idea where the f*ck I am or where I was planning on going.
10:21: I am on the phone with an Australian girl I had met and f*cked the night before, asking her for directions to her place and pleading that I needed somewhere to go as I just escaped from a party of European pedophiles trying to gang bang high school girls. She feels bad and agrees to “comfort” me.
10:30: Yes! In some ridiculous turn of events I had made it to her place and was ready to f*ck.
10:31: I call her and ask her to come let me in. I sit down on the ground outside her apartment as I am too f*cked up to stand.
10:35: I hear a girl’s voice which awakens me. “Dan! Dan! What the f*ck happened to you, you’re soaking wet!?” I realize I am completely covered in my own piss. Not knowing what to say, I quickly respond “Oh I was running here because I wanted to see you so bad and I tripped and fell in a puddle.” It had not rained for weeks. Girls are f*cking stupid.
10:45: I am in her room, sweet. She tells me I smell like sweat and I need to take a shower or she wasn’t going to f*ck me.
10:46: I am in the shower.
10:47: She is in the shower with me, double sweet.
10:48: Various fondling of the genitals ensues.
10:50: We are in her bed f*cking. I am completely unaware of anything that is going on, although my pen*s is not. I start pounding away and am really getting into it.
11:00: Time to go. I look around for my shorts and remember that they are f*cking soaked in piss. I desperately ask her for a pair of shorts to wear to which I get a “f*ck you.” This upsets me so I grab the first pair of shorts I see and run out of her apartment in my boxers, slamming the door behind me.
11:05: I look down in my hands to find, yes you guessed it, a pair of lime green booty shorts. Now I probably could have stopped right there and just called a cab home, but being the alcoholic I have somehow turned into I decide to take my chances and go drink more.
11:15: There is only one place in Brisbane that will let me in at this point: “The Down Under Bar.” This place makes an Irish pub look like a Chuck E. Cheese. The drinks are cheap, the whole place smells like piss, semen, and sweat, the women are sl*tty and there is a wet T-shirt contest every night at midnight.
11:25: I arrive at Down Under bar, covered in sweat and piss, wearing a wife beater and green booty shorts.
11:26: The bouncer is in tears laughing as he lets me in.
11:30: Tequila shots are my guidance counselor for the next 20 minutes as I plan on getting completely f*cked up and forgetting this night ever happened.
11:50: I keep eyeing this girl across the bar. She seems interested and is actually hot. However, she can only see me from the waist up. I need more tequila.
12:00: Wet T-shirt contest starts. Sweet, at least I’ll get to see some titties (hopefully I don’t get a boner).
12:01: The girl who was eyeing me earlier was in the contest. Awesome.
12:15: Major boobage occurs as b*tches are pulling their tits out of their shirts. The first prize is $300. Fucking sl*ts.
12:20: The contest is over and I figure now is my chance to approach my girl. I walk over and somehow manage to get these words out of my mouth “Wow, too bad you lost. At least you have exquisite breasts”
12:21: I black out.
11:00 a.m.: My head is pounding as I wake up and try to find out where the hell I am (no I’m not on a bridge). I’m in a bed, and there’s a girl next to me, and
I’m nekked. Awesome I must have f*cked this girl.
11:05: I wake her up and try to find out what the hell happened last night. I ask ”
did we have sex?” to which she mumbled some words I couldn’t understand. I ask her again “Hey, who are you?” Again, I get some muffled noise. “Hey! What the hell is going on here?”.
11:07: She rolls over and finally starts to talk to me (all in a sexy Spanish accent).
Random Spanish Girl: “Yes we have sex don you member?”
Random Spanish Girl: “How you no member we did twice”
Me: “Jesus Christ”
Random Spanish Girl: “Hey you never tell me how ol you were”
Me: “I’m 21 why?”
Random Spanish Girl: “Oh my ga!”
11:10: After speaking with this girl for another two minutes I find out that she is… Brazilian… married… and 39… years… old.
11:11: I am running out of hotel, realizing that I had just witnessed a European pedophile orgy, pissed my pants, got thoroughly cleaned by the previous night’s hookup, ruined a married man’s life, and banged a women a full 18 years older than me, all while wearing green booty shorts… which I still had on. Moral of the story: I love beer. Stay the f*ck away from boxed wine (a.k.a. goon).
I want more like this!
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