New Entry Update: Mamachel Giveaway Entries
Ok So I’m doing a giveaway If you didn’t know click HERE and get the details. The contest ends on Sunday at 12:00p.m. I will then make my decision taking into consideration comments etc. Please see what I have received so far I will update this post as I get them:
1. In Dew Time:
Mi fi tell u how mi go party go drink red wine whole night and mi bredrin dem drop me home and mi climb the wall at 3.30am and wake up in the grass wid dew pon mi at 6am?
One of my Most Vivid Drunken Experience (had to search for summen I am willing to disclose)
So, this is around 2002/2003, me along with a group of my closest friends were hanging out as usual at Village Cafe ( the then UPT Friday night hot spot), doing tequila shots at the bar on the bottom floor. That night, almost every man we knew was there, so every drink offer was accepted and the selected drink of choice was shots all round. Certainly within an hour or so we were ALL drunk, some more than others. The night goes on and I am dirty dancing with a guy, when I hear a big SPLASH and also feel that both my feet are soaked! So, turn around to find out WTF, only to see that my other friends were also “assaulted” by this mystery wet up. I also see my friend, (lets call her Jackie*) looking up (as we were still parring by the bar below) and cussing that “someone” had vomited on her. So being the bull buck and duppy conquerors we are, we march upstairs (DRUNK) to find the person and buss their ass. Needless to say, upon getting there, there was no one we could identify as well as the fact that who ever did this would have had to climb up on the counter, and hang off the ledge in order to vomit on us. highly unlikely.
Being still DRUNK and now with the bottom half of all of us, covered in vomit, we push past everyone in line for the bathroom (which was about a 8×8 box) and all four us pile in and proceeded try to clean ourselves up, as after all, n our distorted minds, this wasn’t that serious, it was just a little vomit. After another hour or so back on the dance floor, we decided to leave, but still puzzled as to who would want to do something like that. Upon further investigation, we realized that Jackie* had LIED…she not only vomited on all of us…but threw up all over herself in the process….
Lesson learnt…Jackie is a liar!!!! lol
3. I can’t recall
TIME: 10:00AM [TT time]
PLACE: Some random beach house – Mayaro, Trinidad
DATE: February 16th 2001
It was a beautiful morning in Mayaro, Trinidad and I had just arrived at a quaint house on the beach that was next door to a farm and surrounded by tall coconut trees. I was with my “Westmoorings Rainbow Crew” [named so because all of us resided in the north western area of Trinidad and well, besides me and 2 other girls, everyone else was gay] and it was day 1 of our Pre-Carnival beach weekend lime. After we got settled we decided it was time for the beach and as we walked outside, the farmer from next door greeted us with fresh cantaloupes picked from his patch. He had cut them in half so that we’d have easy access to the fruit’s flesh. We looked at each other excitedly. This could only mean one thing: BRING OUT DE COCONUT RUM!!!!!!! Of course, this was the beginning of the end!
*FLASH FORWARD TO 8:30PM [TT TIME]*
NOTE: Anything that happened after 11:00pm is lost from MY mind but is forever archived in the photo albums belonging to RV and LB.
By this time, everyone was pretty much wasted. We had been drinking from 11:00AM. We had poured the coconut rum in the cantaloupe halves… we had Bloody Mary’s… scotch and coconut water, beer (Carib/Stag)… rum and coke… rum and sprite… wine… the evil puncheon… I mean, you name it, we fricking drank EVERYTHING. We danced on the beach… we tried to feed the squirrels puncheon… we chased cocks around the yard… we smoked… and then we drank some more.
When 8:30 rolled around we were playing some drinking game called spoons… and having the most tolerance for alcohol, I was taking shot after shot of tequila for my boys who couldn’t handle it. By 11:00pm all I remember was that shirts came off… sheets were grabbed…make up came out and techno music was on and popping!
TIME: Who the hell knows… the sun was out.
PLACE: The bench ON THE OUTSIDE PORCH of some random beach house – Mayaro, Trinidad
DATE: February 17th 2001
The first thing I felt was the warmth of the sun… beaming down on my stomach. As I opened my eyes, I saw wood… lots of it and as I realized where I was I got up with a start. I was stiff as ever with only my shorts and swimsuit top on… and hickies on my neck. To this day I have NO idea how the hell I ended up out there as I was told I was carried to bed. As for the hickies… none of the boys owned up. Curiouser and curiouser….
4. Hide And Seek
So a few years ago me and some friends linked up for some dominos on Friday after work. Unfortunately, getting a game was beginning to appear nigh-impossible, as no-one was getting 6-love. Since I was beginning to get hungry, and already had a few rum & cokes (my drink of choice at the time) I decided to get some food in New Kingston (probably Wendy’s), as it seemed to be gearing up for another heavy-drinking Friday. Along the way I got a call from a (hot) female friend, that she and some other (hot) sistrens were on their way to Quad — I immediately changed destinations. (Mistake #1)
Upon entry to Quad, a wise man may have ordered some food inside Christopher. I was not a wise man that night. The ladies and I headed upsatirs to dance and drink some more rum & coke. (Mistake #2)
It is at this point that the rest of the story was related to me by my one-man rescue party, who had finally left the dominos session hours after me, and had also headed to Quad.
He had just reached security outside when a sistren (unrelated to the festivities) ran outside, and upon seeing him, grabbed him and said he needed to rescue me. Allegedly I had gotten a little rowdy in my partying, and had gotten on top of a table (why? I cannot think of a compelling reason, but I’m sure a woman was to blame). The bouncers decided that my night was now at an end, and were about to throw me out on my face when my bredrin appeared.
My bredrin luckily knew the bouncers and diffused the situation, and then lead me outside to the parking lot. He asked me where my vehicle was, and I gave him general directions toward the multi-story lot. He instructed me to stay in one spot, while he went to get my car. (Mistake #3 — but this one wasn’t mine)
After finding my car and driving it back to where he had left me, he couldn’t find me!
Looking around the parking lot, eventually his attention was drawn by one of the attendants to a figure sitting in a similar (if you were drunk) SUV.
In the passenger seat.
With the car alarm blaring and lights flashing!
To this day, we have no idea how I got into that car…
5. Clean Streak
This incident I remember clear as day. Not sure how funny it is…more like embarrassing.
I lived in an apt complex and my neighbours were having a games night. We ended up playing truth and dare after some drinking games so I was pretty gone when I was dared to streak around the complex. Now its a small complex…8 – 10 apts…and it was about 3 in the morning on a weekday. Plus I didn’t have to get naked infront of them…just outside, and streaking WAS on my bucket list…So I figured…why not?
So of course…OF COURSE…who do I LITERALLY run smack into….my frickin Landlord. Some other neighbours had called him bout a ‘disturbance’ so he came to check it out. ALL I could muster was ‘I got locked out’…that was AFTER a VERY long awkward silence. He walks to my apt…2 steps away..amd tried the door…which of course opens. (He has yet to say a word btw). I ran inside. Closed the door and never looked him in the eye again.
y’all remember that scene in ‘Hall Pass’ where the drunk girl is seated on bathtub, and attempts to sneeze, and her ass explodes all over the bathroom walls instead??? please hold on to that image for future reference 🙂
it’s 2004, maybe 2005, i don’t remember. But it’s definitely winter…February or something. you know how it gets in winter…especially after a cold snap. It’s 17F outside, but it doesn’t matter: we (1 of my roommates and I) need to get up out this apartment! the other roommate apparently hates my guts, but I digress. This night is special though…there are 4 parties taking place inside the apartment building. We’re SET!
1. at about 8pm, we head out to the new neighbors across the hall, who are having a housewarming. lovely interracial couple. we pass through and have a few drinks. i am tipsy.2. the new neighbors on the 3rd floor are having a housewarming. we trip through and have a few more drinks. they’re a very nice italian couple. i am fed and buzzed.3. the new neighbors on the 1st floor are having a housewarming. we stagger in, and have a bunch more drinks. they’re sisters…i think….blonde, gorgeous, and fun. at this point the realization dawns upon us that, ‘Hey! home is just a 4 floor elevator ride away!’. this realization marks the beginning of the end. the room is spinning. at some point i black out on the floor hugging a corona bottle grinning my face off….yes, this saturday night is going well! (there’s a photo of this point circulating around, but i cannot find it in time for this post)4. the new neighbors in the basement are having a housewarming he’s the new building super. he’s half Irish, Italian and Fratboy. we stumble out of the elevator, and somehow make it to the front door at end of corridor. there’s a lot of laughter because at this point, everything looks funny…even the washing machines. in Italy, Ireland and Fraternia, party = alcohol and cups…and maybe a radio is playing in the background. being the token jamaicans we are offered copious amounts of weed, in addition to the kegs and ping pong balls and drunken wives, who’ve always wanted to f*ck a black man. at maybe 1am i’m back up on the 4th floor “penthouse in the sky”, and collapse in bed. the bed feels like a rodeo bull, and i already regret leaving the apt. i make several trips to the bathroom and fight off roommate for its use, and simultaneously vomit and shit in what i hope was the toilet. its hard to see when the room is upside down like that.
i don’t remember much more than that, except that i woke up the next morning, in my room, butt naked, dangling off the edge of my bed, hugging the wastepaper basket on the floor, which immediately poses 2 serious questions. when did I take off my clothes? and how much did my roommates see????
7. Oven Baked
After a particularly hard week of work, I decided to go with my coworkers/friends to one of the all-inclusive parties. Had a really great time, drank some shots of tequila that someone smuggled in (the people I associate with have poor to no behaviour) and rub up in the middle of the dancefloor with hot yute whose name I cannot recall currently (he was hot right? Wasn’t he?). They had to drag me away, that’s how much fun I was having. And by fun I mean, drunken revelry.
Home in a blur of laughter (some at my expense).
Morning comes slowly and painfully, I wake up in my couch dressed to kill. High heels still on. It is 2pm.
Must. Have. Tea.
Make some ginger tea and return to the couch sans heels-because that’s inappropriate. Red dress however, still on!
I pick up the phone to try and get some details about what I did, was that yute cute for true, how did I get home, were there pictures?
Brand new, company-issued BB falls into the tea.
Now it fell with a loud plop, tea spilled all down the dress. Only my mind refused to process what was happening. There was a good minute before the synapses kicked in to say that the tea and the phone should not be existing together in harmony. I pluck out the phone and switch it off. What to do….
Enter google! I type in ‘bb in tea’-no that yielded no helpful results. ‘Blackberry in water’ though had tons of results. So there was one site which says that phone should be baked in the oven. Along with being put in rice, swung in a sock and taken to the repair shop. Clearly I am not the only one who has done this before. I choose oven! Highest degree of risk equals great rewards, right?
Dehydrated brain says, microwave would be faster. In goes the phone….out comes sparks, sounds of singeing and charred metal.
The microwave and metal do not go together, nor does microwave and tea. Who knew?
Hung over and phone-less for two whole days. After lots of vomiting and entreaties to God, I recover and purchase the people’s BB. I ask a firend from IT to hook me up on the sly. He already heard the story….ok, great!
Morals of the story:
1. Faster not necessarily better
2. Good-looking after 10 drinks is relative
3. All-inclusive does not mean drink all people bring to you
4. Tea is bad for phones and therefore should not be had