Alcohol Extravaganza Aftermath

Friday, December 29, 2006

Again sorry for not being able to post any updates recently. The past week has simply been a flurry of alcoholic activity and I was either too high and drunk to post or I was spending time with a group of Korean kids who held me captive in a basement for a week and taught me the intricate art of cockfighting. The trick, I learned, was to double up in a fetal position to protect yourself, wait for the perfect opportunity to strike and always go for the other cock's neck. But I digress. Also, if you're turning to my blog for entertainment during the Holiday season, you SERIOUSLY need a new hobby. 

Anyway, let's start off with the evening of December 23rd–the event we arbitrarily called The 2006 Man Blog Alcohol Extravaganza an event which, sadly, was better off dubbed as The 2006 Man Blog Sausagefest; the reason being the ratio of female attendees to male attendees was a dismal 2:3. This would've been easily forgivable of course if the aforementioned girls weren't Adam's wife, somebody who has a boyfriend or a rug muncher. 

[Not that I'd be interested in the first place being that I'm inlove, engaged and all that shit. I LOVE YOU BABY! TEE-HEE! err..]

 The Sausagefest didn't exactly get off to a good start. First of all, the venue was down south over at Macapagal Avenue, a place which is at least 40 minutes away in light to moderate traffic. We were supposed to meet up around 8pm so I asked Adam to pick me up in ortigas at around 7pm. What we failed to take into consideration were:

• It's the 23rd. Two days before Christmas.

• Filipinos, being genetic procrastinators, are notorious for last minute shopping, and as a corollary, clogging up every fucking street in the metro.

• My STD which makes my penis smell like cottage cheese. No wait…

Okay, suffice it to say that Adam got himself into a really bad traffic jam on his way to pick me up and arrived around 7:40pm. So I'm like "Yeah, so we're going to be late 20 minutes. Big deal. I'm sure they'll wait. I mean, I'm Mike "Fucking" Villar. Who wants to fistfight?"    

8pm– we were still negotiating the traffic in Buendia Avenue and I am starting to get restless; and amongst the many of my undersirable qualities, the worst has to be my mood swings. My fiancee always complains about this and when I'm in the bad end of one of my mood swings, I become even more emotionally incapable than I am physically and that is saying a lot since most of the time,  I need my mom to brush my teeth or put a shirt on. But when I get myself into a foul mood, that's it; there's no changing it and the only thing I can do is wait it out.

So for the rest of the trip to Macapagal Avenue, although unnoticed by people around me, I began throwing mental tantrums usually to complain about:

1. The traffic which is getting in the way of me and the start of a night filled with glorious drinking

2. The fact that I want to make out and/or have sex right now but my fiancee being away for at least four more months and the fact that I am broke as fuck no thanks to my ginormous credit card bills–a fact that renders me incapable of visiting my "other girlfriend", Number 21, getting a massage from her and alleviating aforementioned make out/sexual urges.

After what seems to be an eternity, we finally got to the venue and met up with fellow Man Blog editors Steel, Ade, Bim and Coco as well as lone female attendee/Forum regular Joni. A couple of awkward minutes were spent on pleasantries and trying to size up one another for hints of being bisexual (Can't blame us really. Being that the event is a borderline sausagefest and we were all determined not to go home empty handed and at least get ourselves a little ass play action)

This disappointed me further and after we got ourselves settled in the grill we're going to spend the evening at, I wasted no time drinking at an alarmingly rapid rate and getting myself bombed. I really can't find any words to describe how quickly this happened, so I'm going to let pictures do the talking here:

This is me, acting within decorum, looking all homosexual and shit before any alcoholic beverages were served.

This is me approximately 20 minutes after the first bottle of beer was served: Trying to strike a Bryanboy pose but instead only succeeding in looking like a really sweaty homeless guy who got cornered by cops after running away with somebody's bag. Joni smiles trying her best to look like she's having a good time when in reality she's all "Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into. I really want to go home now."

So you could only imagine how quickly things turned ugly. First of all, considering that besides Adam and myself, nobody really knew each other and there were a lot of awkward attempts (mostly on my part) to break the ice. There were a lot of:

Me: So what do you do for a living dude?

Coco: Like I told you three times already, I run the family business.

Me: [acting surprised, sweating] Really, you told me already? Because if you did, I honestly can't remember…

Coco: Dude, are you alright? You look pretty drunk. Maybe you can rest in the car while we wrap this thing up–

Me: Nah dude, it's alright. So how's China this time of year man?

Coco:  I really wouldn't know man.

Me: I thought you took care of your family's business in China?

Coco: Dude, that's Joni.

Me: [Smoking two cigarettes simultaneously] Same shit dude. Really, how's China? Pretty cold I take it?

Since I was drunk out of my mind early, I really don't remember much of what happened that night. I really don't remember much of what happened that night given that I was drunk as fuck. I do remember trying to pull of a Mike Villar Classic escape sometime around 1am–a manuever I employ when I'm too drunk to even keep my eyes open or zip my fly after I take a piss. This manuever inlolves me telling somebody that "I need to make a call" and pretending to talk on my cellie to a "business associate" only to find myself, only a couple of minutes later, eating Tokwa't baboy at a Pares place while sweating and cursing, or doing a Hand Solo while watching porn on my computer.

This didn't work out as well as I wanted to after I realized that I don't have a car and that there is no way in hell I'm going to take a cab home given the sorry state I am in. Well I did blackout somewhere along the way. I know this because upon looking at my phone the morning after, it seems that I was trying to send text messages to my fiancee, trying to say "Baby, I love you so much. Please don't leave me. I promise I'll try to change and not drink as much" but only went as far as typing "Baby Ikv somcn! Imnthdrn! I lvc yo!"

Also, I remember ordering a Frostee over at Wendy's after I dropped off Joni and Ade. I don't remember much of this either but I'm guessing I acted like a total douche in front of the service crew because I vaguely recall the person behind the counter saying something to the effect of "My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ will punish you for that!" What could I have done to elicit such a comment? I would never know.

Lastly, I woke up the day after with minor cuts and bruises on my arm. I honestly don't know how I got them. For all I know, I got into a fight with a couple of homeless people over a Siopao. But then again, since my brain was like "Hey tubs, It's four o'clock, I don't know about you, but I'm closing shop. Good night" I, again, will never know.

Merry Christmas to everyone!  And if I ever don't make it out of our annual New Year's Eve Alcohol/Cholesterol Extravaganza alive, I'm going to wish you a happy new year too.