November 10, 2005

On my 21st I ditched a long-time boyfriend [good], went to a heavy metal bar - the cop let us in 2 hours before I was officially legal ("Hide in the bathroom until midnight") [good], and I took the long-haired drummer home [good].

A short time later, though, that birthday qualified as the "worst" birthday ever.

I was arrested on my birthday and was sentenced to 4 years of probation. What FUN!!!

The day before my 21st birthday we were in a car accident which almost killed my 18 month old daughter.
The day of my birthday, my (ex) husband took me to a bar, got me drunk, since I passed out in the car, he let me fall out onto the pavement and dragged me by the hair into the house, into bed and threw my head in a bucket.

On my 14th birthday, a bunch of us girls slept over together and got into some beverages that we shouldn't have gotten into and ended up walking up and down the streets in our pajamas with motorcycle helmets on at 3am...

A world-class blowjob ... yes, definately, that was it. I was in a whorehouse in South America and my shipmates bought me an "around-the-world".

Coolest~Having Happy Birthday sung to me over the comp by an "adopted" squad of Marines....FROM IRAQ! I got flowers from the same squad. :)
Happy B-day Caltech!

on my 28th i decided to drink 28 beers. i did it and it almost killed me.

My Mom bought me a Brand-new stereo when I was 13, WE coudn't figure out why it woudn't play music...We checked to see if it was plugged in, afterall we're not stupid!
Turns out those things need speakers!...
Ha-ha..ah well. I wound up getting speakers and HEADphones so it was a good thing in the end. :)

!!!*H*A*P*P*Y*~*B*I*R*T*H*D*A*Y*!!!
T

When I turned 16, we lived in Spain, stationed at Torrejon AFB. For my birthday, my parents took me shopping in Madrid. My Dad commented that my acne was looking reallllllly bad. Damn if I didn't have the chicken pox! Sweet 16 and had the pox! I had braces, glasses, acne, AND chicken pox! UGLY! Fortunately, there are no photos from that birthday!

Damn, Livey! That's just redneck foreplay!

My 21st, I was dancing in a bar, and multiple chicks bought me multiple drinks, and I was cuttin the rug with this one beauty, and I was shimmying away, and fell back on my ass in a sprawl. Damn, I was pissed. Who moved the dance floor like that? All these hotties tried to help me up, and I was so pissed and ashamed, I pushed them away, and staggered up and outside, and promptly fell sideways into the decoritive Holly bushes. I was clambering around, getting all tore to shit, and people kept trying to help me, and somehow I ended up home.

I swore, the next day, to never get fucked up in public again, and I didn't.

My fortieth birthday.

I had cleared a weekend to ride a borrowed hog from Utah to Long Beach and take a walk in the surf, maybe take a dayboat out for fishing.

You know, Dad's Middle Aged Crazy Event.

Instead, I spent my birthday at the hospital getting a hernia fixed.

Welcome to middle age, sir...

For my 30th I had my 6 week postpartum checkup after my first baby. That probably would have been a plus had my parents not been in town, but as it was it was at least another week before we got to celebrate that milestone in the traditional way...

Hate to break in and mess up the fun, but can any of you tell me what the hell has happened to KimduToits
website? It seems to be none such but a 404 now.

Worst B-Day ever...

Florida Phase of Ranger School. Birthday number 33 (yes, I was far too old to be in Ranger School--so sue me).

In Mountain Phase one of the boys in the platoon celebrated a birthday, and the members of his squad scrounged an MRE poundcake, put a candle in it, and sang "Happy Birthday" to him. Me? I didn't get shit from my squad--and that totally sucked.

So for my birthday I got to celebrate with a failed patrol from the night before, no acknowledgement from my squad-mates, thoughts of my ever-so-distant wife and kids, and a case of bronchitis that had been plaguing me for weeks.

Happy birthday indeed.

Shane

21st birthday "celebrated" in the jungles of Vietnam. Platoon gave me a present of a tin of pound cake from a C ration pack with matches in the top.

Left my mark there by carving "Fuck Ho Chi Minh" in large letters in a rubber tree.

19th Birthday. 19 cocktails. Vaguely remember falling over a kerb and only managing to get back up again by climbing a Police officer's leg while giggling "show us yer truncheon officer..."

quark2 - go here! http://www.thenationofriflemen.com/nor/index.php/rant/

A belated happy birthday. Hope that headache disappeared in time for you to enjoy the celebration. I don't have a b-day story - all my funny drunk tales happened on regular days but I did hear that yesterday was also the 230th anniversary of the Marines and that the Marines started in a bar with the first recruiter being the barkeep.

oh man, i [sort of] remember it well. at 24, i mixed drinks that had no business being mixed (beers, white russians, some fruity crap), and then i ended up in a dive a block away from my parents' place (STUPID!!!), where i proceeded to knock back shots of jack, smoke cigarettes (this is not something i usually do), and wipe the floor with everyone who came near me on the pool table. yep, that was a good one. after all was said and done, i was dragged (literally) out of the bar sandwiched by two people, each one of my arms draped around their respective necks, holding on for dear life because i woulda kissed the pavement otherwise. i was then placed in a cab to go around the corner ($6 to literally go up the block, but they live on a one way so we had to go an extra block around) so i could crash at my folks. stupid, stupid, stupid. but so worth it.

I turned 14, and my 19 yr old boyfriend was leaving for Cali that day. He said that if he came by and I wasn't home that he was leaving w/o saying goodbye (prick). He came by and I was not there (I dont remember where I was, but that's besides the point and does nothing for pity in my story). When I got home and realized I'd missed him, I was greatly distraught, so my mom bought me and my friend a bottle of Ron Rico Rum. I drank most of it straight. We went for a walk (or stumble, whatever)... I stole a stop sign in front of a cop because by this time I was "blacked out" but still functioning. The cop nicely enough let us walk home when we were met by my prick* er I mean boyfriend* about a block from my house. He picked us up and drove us home. As I opened the door of his Pathfinder, I held on too long and fell face 1st into the gravel driveway. My *friend*, not the prick, dragged me in to the house where I proceeded to pee and vomit on myself while blacked out in my bed. yeay for me!

On my 21st birthday, everybody forgot except my fraternity brothers. I had to do 21 bong hits. I was a little slow on the last one so I had to do a penality hit. I woke up the next day in the gutter. After that day I was never able to toke again without puking my guts up. That was over 20 years ago.

i think it is hilarious, and i mean hilarious, that you're encouraging over the top drunk stories while the author of the blog that you are guest posting on sits in a detox hospital as living proof of where over the top drunk behavior can take someone.

im not preaching here....just sayin that the situation's obvious dichotomy gave me my morning guffaw...

Well then, for Acidman's amusement, that would be alcohol poisoning at the ripe age of 16. For my 16th birthday, my eve was spent in the bathtub cause it was close to the commode.

Quark2, for reasons that are best left undiscussed, Mr. dT had to stop blogging on his old site. He still blogs, but on a new site at:

http://www.thenationofriflemen.com/nor/index.php/rant/

as "The Gun Guy"

One of the rules of traffic there is that he is known by that name only.

Misty and Rivrdog, thanx for the tip.

Kim Du Toit does not blog any more. Nope. Never. Uh uh.

If you miss his style and subject matter, you will find a blog at nationofriflemen.com that is similar. Very similar.

But it's just a coincidence that it's like Kim's. Kim does not blog anymore.

Nope.

Nope a keystroke.

Lamont

For my 23rd birthday I happened to be at a training seminar in Houston. The guys in my class took me out to the Colorado club, which is a 'gentleman's club'. Every guy in the class bought me a shot and a lap dance.

Since there were 11 other guys in the class, by closing time, I was the drunkest and horniest person in the western hemispere. I did make it to class the next day, but I wasn't sober until after lunch.

I got very drunk on one birthday of mine (my 19th, I think) - my best friend and I mixed many many spirits, tried to walk home from the pub, but hit my head on the bridge i was walking across, and fell in the road and stayed there for a rest, while my mate tried his best to drag me out of the road before an oncoming car hit me :-S
Anyways, check out my blog!!
www.mynameisfrancesca.co.uk

Just 'cause Rob is in detox doesn't mean he can't laugh at all of y'all being silly drunks!

Long story short...take one deaf/mute acquantence...we'll call him Bob...
I'm hanging out with him on his birthday, mastering my sign language skills.

Bob gets really shitfaced and I have to figure out through sign language where he lives because he can't drive himself home .

No such luck, I have no idea where he lives. I call ANOTHER of his friends, who happens to live in the basement apartment of a nearby house owned by a single woman I don't know.

I haul Bob's drunken ass over, my friend meets me at the basement door, and parks Bob on his sofa for the night.

Situation solved, right?

Wrong...

Bob awakes.

Bob needs to pee.

Bob wanders up the stairs.

Bob stumbles into the master bedroom where the afore mentioned woman and her male conquest for the evening (or visa versa) were in the middle of an adult situation.

Bob can't speak.

Bob can't explain to his "hosts" that he is just looking for the bathroom and the "hosts" think that Bob is robbing them.

More hilarity ensues, the police are called, and Bob is finally released after the investigation is completed.

Hell of a birthday.

Stupid teenage stuff on my 17th....a friend gave me a bottle of tequila, we shared it with friends, and then I took said friends out looking for fun in my van. Only problem was, coming off a curving ramp from the interstate, I went too fast and the van went up on two wheels....barely came back down. Sobered up instantly, had the drinking/driving thing cured instantly and forever. I have ever since been the designated driver.

My 18th birthday. I got two, and only two, presents:

A $20 bill from my dad.

A $20 speeding ticket from the cops.

This is a true story.

We're at my youngest brother's wedding reception. Massive amount of drinking. Ding! Midnight, it's now my 30th birthday. 8 shots of tequilla show up. I drink 3, walk outside and puke my guts out. Great picture of me doing my best James Bond impression (black tux and all) standing over this massive pool of puke.

Ahhhhh, the tender memories....