The Life of an Attention Whore

Monday, January 31, 2005

The First Toilet Story of 2005

On Friday night, after a long week of doing absolutely nothing, I decided it was time to break that streak and indulge in some causal drinking.

At 10:45 I got to Bubbles' house with Crackey and started to drink my concoction of Smirnoff bitch beer and Smirnoff vodka. I was being careful to go easy on the liquor since I'm a lightweight. I later found out that everytime I made a drink AJ would sneak in a few extra shots when I wasn't looking. But I'm an optimist, at least it was just alcohol and not roofies.

After drinking a while and smoking a little bit we went to get P.O.T., so we could pick up some stuff from his house. At this point I had already consumed two of my drinks each of which had a presumably high alcoholic content. In addition I had smoked a bowl on the 5 minute ride over to P.O.T.'s house. When we got to P.O.T's I requested a beverage and he poured me a glass of rum. I chugged it and then we drove back to Bubbles' house

wake up from short nap on sofa. drunkly look around. realize everyone is gone. see daylight. look at clock. 8:43. Mexican convinces Bubbles to drive us home. where did she come from? i tell Crackey to hide whatever is left of my alcohol from the guys in the house. I make into the car. I make it back to my dorm. I make it up the stairs. I make it into the ha.. BLAHHHHHHHHH....nope, I lied. Puked in the hall. It looks like eggs.

Mexican walks me to my room. I try to get onto my newly and regrettably mounted bunk bed. I stay there for approximately 3 seconds before falling off, and stumbling to the bathroom. The bed not only prevents me from having sex, but also from puking. There goes my weekend. I decide sleeping on the sofa eases the puking process. Go to sleep. Get up to puke again. Puke. Go back to sleep. Repeat puking process 10 times over next 2 hours. Blue gatorade = aquamarine puke. at least my puke is pretty, even if I'm not. Decide I'm never going to drink again.

Here is the account of some gems that came from my mouth during the night:

to Mexican..."ihzz ok, you cayn go have a shigarette with Luci. I truhst you. I knoow you knoow how muzch I like him and I knoow you wone do anysthing. ok go have a cigarette with him" ....and then I push her out the door.
Yeah sorry, I'm a bit of an insecure crotch when I'm drunk

Me: Crackey, do yoou whnt to leafe now or layter?
Crackey: later
Me: ok. I wahna hook up wif Luci. (in a whisper) Buht I cant cuze [insert feminine issue here] so maybe i'll juhst [sexual expletive] him.
Crackey: Risa, you're not whispering and he's standing right there ::points to distance of not more than 5 feet::
Me: (in stage whisper) YES I AM!

After puking in the bathroom for several hours I passed out with my head on the toilet. Bubbles came in to check on me and found me wearing a blanket. (Side note about the toilet: their toilet is about as clean as a NYC subway) Bubbles then carried me to the sofa despite my protests to stay where I was.

The lesson learned from this story? Absolutely none. This it not the first time nor the last time that something like this has happened. The fact that this was supposed to be a casual night of drinking however...I'm going to have to watch out for that statement from now on.

Monday, January 10, 2005

Russian's Birthday

When Russian told me he was throwing himself a birthday party in hopes of achieving a Geneseo drunk, I was down. When he told me to invite female friends, I saw it as a good opportunity to give Bffaeaeuddup and Pinky a little taste of the Geneseo world.

Bffaeaeuddup, Pinky and I left from Queens to Staten Island in an uneventful trip until we actually got to the NY garbage dump that we call a borough. The rest of NYC doesn't care about Staten Island, and neither did Mapquest. Mapquest showed its affection by giving us completely wrong directions. The exit didn't exist, right turns were left turns (and vice versa) and all the measurements were wrong. Fuck you mapquest, I just want to get drunk.

After an excessively long drive we eventually found Russian's house. The parking lot looked like a great place to get raped so we headed on into Russian's house. When we got there it turned out the only Geneseo people there were me, Crackey, Russian, and Zippers. Fortunately, true to the reputation of my friends, Zippers was already drunk along with another guy. Russian's friend was also russian so we'll call him Boris. Crakey was calling him Yeltsin all night anyway. I saw Russian and wished him a happy birthday and asked him where his parents were. He responded "We're going to make resin pasta later" His attention span gives you a taste of the level of drunkness we had walked into.

A few minutes into the beer festivities, Bffaeaeuddup and Boris realize they go to the same school and are friends with the same people. This initiates the all night game of Boris trying to get into her pants. His game was the textbook picture of a drunk guy hitting on someone. Me and Bffaeaeuddup were able to overhear some wonderful conversation. Overhearing drunk conversation is like seeing the Paris Hilton sex tape, there's really not much of an effort going on to keep it hidden. One of his more discreet statements was "Give me the beer I'm trying to get a girl drunk"

A bunch of us sat down and started to play drinking games which evolved into "questions". For those of you unfamiliar with the rules, all you need to know is that every question must be answered with a relevant question. Crackey responded to each question with the insertion of the words "your mom"For example:
Russian: Why do you fuck donkeys?
Crackey: Why does your mom fuck donkeys?
At some point a verbal dispute broke out between Boris and Zippers regarding semantics of the game and Boris yelled out "put a tampon in your vagina cause you're acting like a pussy!"

Soon after, Pinky drove Russian to pick up two more of his friends. This caused another drunken dispute between Zippers and Russian over who was in better condition to drive. Both were clearly shitfaced but Zippers almost won when he pointed out "I don't have a DUI". Fortunately Pinky intervened and prevented DUI number two for his apartment.

When Pinky came back with Russian and his two friends Josh and Tom they had another friend in tow, a little friend that I like to call KO in a bottle. Josh set down the bottle of Absinthe and looks of awe came from around the room. Many have heard the reputation of Absinthe, but few have experienced its wrath. Take that as foreshadowing. The absinthe started going around the table with most people taking at least one shot, some more. Following my half shot of Absinthe I declard myself officially drunk, and I immediately proceeded to smoke before I puked.

When we came back a game of beer pong started with Bffaeaeuddup and Boris versus Pinky and Zippers. Constantine another of Russian's friends was standing on the side with his arm around Lynn, Crackey's friend. Every pair of people in that room had a guy hitting on a girl and rather than pick up on some great drunken conversation I went to find some more beer. A few minutes later I came back, and noticed the room smelled a little funny, but odor is common to a drunk crowd. All of a sudden I see Pinky yelling "Oh my god! Zippers! Get up you turned on the gas!" Apparently he had leaned on the stove, turning the kitchen into a combustible nightmare.

A few minutes later the doorbell rings and Russian's other friends came over. I have never met another Risa in before, and I can tell you I didn't like it. She told us to call her Reese. By this point I was pretty drunk and started telling Crackey this was going to give me an identity crisis. What can I say, I'm spoiled by having a unique name. When I go upstairs a few minutes later, one of the girls is standing by Boris in the kitchen and who is telling the girl to her face that she is fat and ugly.

A few drunken hazy minutes later, Russian is missing so I go upstairs to find him. I walk up the stairs and start peering into rooms. In one room is someone peering out from under a blanket. I stick my head in and call Russian's name. I think I am hallucinating from the Absinthe as I realize the guy on the sofa is a senior citizen and that Russian has turned into him since everyone else is downstairs. Someone taps me on the shoulder and tells me Russian is down the hall and that I'm staring at his grandfather, Russian is sick and passed out in his sister's room. Out goes the host. That's one person down from shots of absinthe.
Absinthe: 1, Drunk college kids: 0

I head downstairs to get Russian a cup of water. Constantine is sitting on a chair with Russian's other friends. His head is on the table and I ask him if he's okay. He mumbles something incoherent and passes the fuck out. I go into the kitchen and Pinky informs me that she is hungry. I see a package of popcorn on the counter, so I stick it in the microwave and go to give Russian water. As I start up the stairs I hear BANG! Constantine has fallen off the chair and is lying on the floor. Some people make an effort to get him to the bathroom.
Absinthe: 2, Drunk college kids: 0

When I come back downstairs the floor is filled with smoke and the smell of burning popcorn fills the air. Whoops. I hear some bitching approaching and see Russian's other friends coming down the stairs yelling that the house is burning down. I tell them that it's the popcorn. Bffaeaeuddup comes down the stairs, and we throw the burning bag of popcorn in the sink and go downstairs with everyone else. Russian's other friends are convinced that the house is on fire and that we're all going to die. Dumb bitches. They leave.

While we're sitting around I stupidly tell Crackey to call Luci and she does. Boris picks up on the fact that there's something going on between me and this guy and starts making fun of me. I tell him the only thing going on is that I hate him. Eventually someone hangs up on Luci, Boris calls him back, curses at him and hangs up. Boris is my new best friend and is now allowed to hook up with Bffaeaeuddup. I tell Boris he should come visit Russian at Geneseo and Crackey agrees, Crackey: Yeah Yeltsin you can come as long as you don't bring Joseph.
Boris: Who's Jospeh?
Crackey: Stalin.

We're left with 10 people still living, since Constantine has somehow rejoined the living and but looks as though he has just received a frontal lobotomy. Zippers is hitting hardcore on Pinky, Boris wrestles me off the sofa to sit next to Bffaeaeuddup, Tom is eating a two gallon bag of crackers, Me, Crackey and Lynn are still drinking, and Josh is nursing the remainder of the bottle of absinthe.

As I sit in the living room loudly declaring my love for alcohol, Boris starts hitting me and telling me to shut up. I have already figured out that yes Boris is a cool guy, but he is also asshole, as most of my friends are. I assume he is just being a dick, and the he whispers, "Russian's parents are home." I promptly put my beer down and put on the "I'm-small-and-asian-and-innocent" look. Think Puss in Boots from Shrek 2. Meanwhile, Josh has finished the Absinthe. We have conquered the Absinthe!
Absinthe 2, Drunk college kids: 1

Russian's parents head upstairs and a few minuts later Boris heads after them. When he comes back he tells us that he talked to the parents, and they said we can hang out as long as we're not loud. Boris also tells us that if the parents ask, his name is James because everytime Russian gets in trouble he blames it on Boris and Russian's parents currently think "Boris" is in jail. Shortly after this announcement Josh gags and runs outside.
Absinthe: 3, Drunk college kids: 1

After this episode we decide to get some food. For some reason despite Boris being incoherent drunk and unknowledgeable about Staten Island we decide to follow his directions to get food. We leave Constantine at Russian's house because he puked earlier, but take Josh with us. See any inconsistancy in this logic? Me, Crakey, Lynn, and Tom get into one car, and Bffaeaeuddup, Pinky, Boris, Zippers, and Josh get into the other. Boris starts to fight Pinky for shot gun in Pinky's car because he wants to be close to Bffaeaeuddup. Pinky curses him out and throws him in the back seat. Crackey and I start laughing.

Our car follows Pinky's for a while and we realize we are:
a) following the worlds worst directions
b) in a borough we know nothing about
c) watching Josh puke out Pinky's window and all over her car.
Absinthe: 4, Drunk college kids: 1

I call Pinky and tell her to take him back to Russian's house. Meanwhile me and Tom are sitting in the back of the car making small talk. Eventually he decides to skip the small talk and try a pick up line.
Tom: So...have you ever been raped in the back of a car?
I never said he had any game.

We get back to Russian's house and decide we're going to go home. In the process of getting everyone out of the cars, Tom and Boris are now trying to convince Pinky to take Josh home. Me and Bffaeaeuddup are telling them there's no way in hell that's happening. There is already a crust of puke on the outside of Pinky's car. Boris starts arguing with Me and I tell him he's not scoring with my friend now because I am sworn to cock blocking him. Tom asks me again if I've ever been raped in the back of a car. I tell him that line didn't work the first time and isn't going to work now, and if he asks me again I'm going to kick him in the balls and throw him in the woods of the rape lot we were standing in. Then Bffaeaeuddup yells at him. Somehow things get worked out that we agree to take Tom to the subway and leave Josh at Russian's.

Once in the car, the small talk starts again and I tell Tom that I ran the NYC marathon.
Tom: You ran the New York City marathon? You want to make babies
This guy's pick up lines are about as effective as a pair of boobs in a gay club. Somehow Tom cons us into driving him home instead of to the subway, then me, Bffaeaeuddup, and Pinky go for some food. I start tell them I now have an identity crisis since I've met another Risa. Bffaeaeuddup says not to worry and that she sucks and is a bitch. She told a girl who was taking care of Russian not to take care of him because she's "not his mother".
Cool Risa: 1, Not-cool Risa: -289734

As we go through the drivethrough we realize that Mike DeSousa, whom Bffaeaeuddup and I had gone to elementary school with is in the car behind us. I stick my head out the window and yell "Hey is your name Mike? Are you Michael Desousa?" He laughs and says yes. The stupid part of me asking that question is, I was friends with him through highschool which was only 2 years ago. Then the kid driving the car yells out the window, "Hey, I bet you don't remember me. I went to your JHS too!" I take a good hard look at him and say, "Ross?" Damn, I'm good, I haven't talked to this kid...ever. The only two things I know about him are through stories I heard in junior high .
1) he almost died in 8th grade from the synergism of mixing substances
2) he supposedly has a large penis
It's lovely the random facts you pick up about people.

We end up chatting in the parking lot with them for a while, and they invite us to come to the bar. We decline but agree to it for another night. Ross asks who is going to give him a number. I agree because I am drunk and an alcoholic and thus I will not turn down a trip to a bar. I tell him I need his number in case he calls me and I have no recollection of ever having this encounter. As we're about to pull away Mike, being the Rico Suave that he is calls out the window "Wait! Pinky, I didn't get your number." Very smooth, she'll never guess you want to get into her panties now.

Later that morning somewhere around 5:30 I get a call from Ross. I ignore the call and decide he is crazy for calling someone he just met at that time, even if he does have a big penis.

Later in the afternoon, Pinky calls me and makes sense of the situation. Long story short, she texts Mike to tell him he's cute but gets Ross' phone instead. He has no message ID so he calls both of us to figure out which one of us it is. Pinky denies blame. So...apparently it's me. It's alright, he's cute anyways he can think what he wants.

At the end of our conversation Pinky asks me if that's what my typical night is like. I tell her that that was a fairly mild night and she should come visit me at school. She says she couldn't handle that and that by the way I owe her a carwash from the absinthe puke on her car. Absinthe: 5, Drunk college kids: 1

Epilogue I hung out with Russian again the other night and a little more of the story came through. During the party I had prepared the Absinthe in the correct fashion, burning sugar on a spoon and making it into a drink. Apparently the next morning Russian had to convince his parents that we weren't doing heroin since there were burnt spoons all over the house

Wednesday, January 05, 2005


Sunday night Crackey calls me up to invite me to go to the city with her and her friends Natasha and Nicole. We park in the local equivalent of Chinatown (read: bad drivers galore) and walk over to the subway.

Despite the fact that neither Crackey nor I posses an ID with which we would be able to drink legally (or technically illegally), we somehow come to the conlusion that getting into a Manhattan club should be easy. This of course is about as simple as keeping a sex offender away from child pornography sites. After waiting for 3 minutes we loose confidence and head into the less upscale part of town, in hopes that a child molester or someone with an asian fetish runs the bar so that I can get in.

Long story short, a little after midnight we end up downtown in a mexican bar/restaurant with only a dozen customers and we are the only females without dates. The bartender is a typical looking mexican guy, short and a little greasy, who speaks broken english with a nearly incomprehensible accent. To our left is an attractive black couple, with the man shamelessly trying to liquor up his date. On our right is a whorishly dressed woman surrounded on either side by greasy looking men, with the sex appeal of oiled up potbellied pigs with chest hair, that are clearly getting her drunk in hopes of a late night gangbang. Across from us is a boring looking couple, where the male keeps looking at us, and finally Nicole waves at him. He too is trying to get his date drunk, and I'm starting to notice a pattern in this place.

We quickly order some drinks at costly $13 a piece. These better be some good fucking drinks. Deciding to get the most bang for my buck, I order a "Checker Fuel" which is your average pina colada amped up with rum and 151. Half an hour after we get our drinks the bartender starts cleaning up and we realize that
a) we are not yet drunk
b) we are not likely to get drunk
c) we are not going to be able to order more drinks

At one o'clock we start to pack up our stuff, chug the last of our drinks and start to leave since we are the only ones left, aside from the bartender who has just locked the entrance. He then comes up to us and asks us if we would like another shot. We politely decline and start inching towards the door. Then he comes in with the best pick up line I've ever heard come from a mexican mouth "i will give you shots for free".

At that point I realized I was a little over buzzing and on my way towards drunk from my first drink, but still accepted the double shot of tequila that the bartender presented us with. We took our shots with the bartender, thanked him, and like the gracious people we are, tried to leave. Then he said the magic words again,
"Do you want more free shots?"

We had only known this guy for less than an hour, and already he knew how to hold my attention. He offered us more tequila, but none of our stomachs could take two double shots of tequila in 5 mintues. He then offered us a large variety of highly abrasive drinks which Crackey (the driver) and Natasha were politely declining. Then came the "I'll do it if you do it" look from Nicole, and
a) I can't pass up a challange like that
b) I can't pass up free alcohol.
The bartender took our consent to a soco and lime double shot as group consent and poured us 4 more shots. We clinked glasses, took then shots, then once again attempted to leave.
Now of course, the shots came with a cost, other than a morning hangover. The bartender came around and hugged each of us in turn and gave each of us a kiss on the cheek. Someone then had the manners to remember to ask his name which was Miguel or Manuel or something like that.

We told him we'd be coming back and then round 2 of the hug/kiss goodbye came as he asked each of us our names. Following that we briskly walked to the door in hopes of avoiding round 3 of the game and realized that the door was locked. SHIT. Then came round 3 of the mexican hug/kiss/grope goodbye game. We finally got out of the restaurant, at which point I was fully drunk, and I'm pretty sure the others were feeling it as well.

Unfortunately this story now comes to an anti-climactic ending, followed only by a drunk subway ride home, and massive amounts of drunk phone calls to god know who. Once at home, in lieu of sleeping I played family feud on my cell phone and an incredibly drunk me got text messages from "bigdik4u2c". You can speculate as to what you think the messages said. A great ending to the night.......on the bright side, at least at the bar we only got liquored up, and not gang banged.