39fd71f7__the_fuck_happened_last_night___Story
[Hide] Hide [ID] 1910 [Nickname] HawkLoko [Loko] 2 [Not Loko] 0 [6] Show [Story] 
I popped open a can of Cranberry Lemonade. I offered my friends a sip. They proclaimed it tasted like death. I said to hell with them and consumed the rest of the 20 ounces on the spot. I don't remember what happened for the next couple minutes except that my hand was gashed and bloody when I came to. I couldn't stand up straight, so people forced me to sit down and drink water. I apparently didn't have enough motor control to hold that because more H20 ended up on me than in me. I walked a couple blocks to the tailgate when I was feeling more coordinated. I bent down to tie my shoe and couldn't get back up. After a recovery that stretched for eons, I advanced toward the aroma of grilled food. When I got to the tailgate, I staggered up to the line and started piling burgers on my plate. Literally every time I put a hamburger on my plate, it would fall to the ground without me noticing. I would look at the plate and wonder WTF why food disappeared to. I would then proceed to grab another one. I must have dropped my food too much because the staff eventually refused to serve me more. The story isn't over though. Eight hours later, with a pounding headache from the first Four Loko, I went to the bars. They don't serve Four Loko so you know that wasn't an exciting time. The fun didn't start until the afterparty, where I had two more Lokos. Needless to say, I was up until 7AM and accomplished nothing that whole time. At this point, I had the choice of going to sleep or shooting handguns all day. You know what my impaired judgment led me to do. When we stopped at a crowded gas station, I was still smashed enough to get out of the car and drunk dance while the meter ticked. I was trying not to puke on the ride to the pistol match. I don't really remember all that much about what happened aftewards. I was told I put two hundred rounds of ammo downrange and was bitched out for my poor safety habits. Apparently you're not supposed to have your finger on the trigger while running, especially not if you're wasted to oblivion. It's a fucking miracle I didn't somehow blow my own leg off. I'm done with 4L. Who wants the 30 cans in my fridge?
Four Loko Stories dot com - What the fuck happened last night?
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