What the Fuck Happened at Homecoming?!


So this past weekend was homecoming, or at least… I think it was. I have spent the last 4 days attempting to retrace every step and interview every person that I talked to. This is the story as it has been told to me.
The morning started like most Saturday mornings, only it started 5 hours earlier than usual, and I had a shot of whiskey before I physically rolled out of bed. So 7:30am rolled around and I was off to a pancake kegger. I showed up to the kegger, payed my 10$’s, and filled up a red solo cup. Today was the day; today was homecoming. That’s when the bottle of Jameson started getting passed around, that’s where things start getting hazy. I went and got myself an undercooked, still batter pancake, slathered it with whisky syrup and and baileys infused whipped cream and started pounding beers. That’s when things REALLY start getting foggy. 4 hours later, I was pretty #turnt, and everything that comes after this point is purely based on what was described to me.
It wasn’t until Sunday that I found out there was actually a football game. Like seriously, who would have thought homecoming had a football game? Anyways, so I didn’t have a ticket to this football game thing, but that wasn’t going to stop me from going anyways. Mickeys in hand, I was ready to get fucking sticky and went with my friends to the game. Unfortunately, the stucons had all these rules about not vomiting on them when they go to frisk you and not bringing 2L of fireball whiskey and jamesons into the game and having to actually have a ticket. Fuck them right? But I was determined to see what this whole football thing was about so I decided I had to sneak in. I don’t know how I did it, I don’t know where I went, all of my friends went into the game, and I apparently screamed at the stucon, told them I was a fucking god, vomited again, and then ran away. 30 minutes later, I was in the stands. I was also purple. I’m told I wasn’t purple when we left the house, but fuck it, I was purple. I’ve also come to the conclusion that the game of football doesn’t actually exist, I asked over a dozen different people and not a single person remembers a single detail from the game. About two hours in people rushed the field, but I’m pretty certain the rest of the time the entire crowd was in some sort of mass comatose state of plastered.
After the rushing of the field, it was time to go back to drinking. During the game I somehow managed to finish 2 more mickeys and I’m told this is when things started getting belligerent. I was walking home when I realized that somehow I had left my pants at the game. Tonight was going to be a long night.
While walking home to get more liquor, I somehow ended up in a large group of alumni who were singing some sort of song about a cheese grater, and I had to leave to vomit at the mental imagery that it instilled. That or the fact that the alumni were feeding me moonshine from a rusty water bottle… In hindsight, it was probably both…
The alumni went on their way and I, forgetting where I was originally headed, I walked into the nearest kegger. Still pantsless and sloshed as all fuck, it was time for another beer. People kept looking at me really weird though, maybe it was my lack of pants, maybe it was the hole in my boxers, maybe it was the fact that I was still purple, or maybe it was the fact that I kept yelling shit, regardless, people should learn to be more respectful, staring is rude.
It was at this point that I decided I should go for a walk, people had begun chanting “Get the fuck out” and “Put away your fucking dick” so I decided that I had overstayed my welcome. I wandered back out into the Ghetto and it was at that point that I realized I didn’t know where I was, and that I could no longer stand up. The next day, I woke up in a dumpster 7 blocks north of Princess still drunk. If anyone finds my pants, my keys, or my cell phone, I really need those back. I should post about my lost stuff on overheard…