The 5 People You Become After a Night of Drinking
So I recently planned a Google Hangout as a way of selling pre-orders for my novel, Notes from the Internet Apocalypse. But I had a secret agenda besides selling pre-orders for my novel, Notes from the Internet Apocalypse: I wanted to get drunk. With friends. And by Jove, that's just what I did! (While selling pre-orders for my novel, Notes from the Internet Apocalypse.)
For the purposes of this column, each person in this photo will represent a drunk persona. Nothing in this article should be mistaken for an actual event that actually occurred, despite me saying that these things actually occurred.
A few weeks ago, it was my privilege to play live-streaming drinking games with Cracked's own Brendan McGinley, as well as Nick Leftley, Brian Cullen, and Alli Reed. And because I'm all about killing as many birds with as few stones as possible, I made sure to be extra observant throughout the evening for things I could share with you, the lovely and talented Cracked readers. I learned a lot that night, but five things stick out the most: the five people you can become after a night of drinking.
The Dude Who Changes Persona
Did you know alcohol has the ability to lower your inhibitions? Of course it does. It says so on this SADD website. Y'see, ethanol affects the central nervous system, impairing some of the judgment centers of the brain. And with lowered inhibitions, some people feel free to become some whole other person. You know what I mean. Suddenly one of your friends is a tough guy or a ladies man when he never was one before. Suddenly he's an expert explorer, barking out directions for the best route to your destination, or suddenly he's the guy who tells everyone where it's at. The friend you know has suddenly decided to become another person.
Alli: The Re-Inventer
We were halfway through the party, which was meant to be devoted to drinking, joking, and booksellin', when suddenly a brand new Alli Reed emerged. No longer was she the bright, young, witty writer we'd known from the Internet, but a sassy preteen, hellbent on turning our party into a sleepover.
"Let's play truth or dare," she giggled, suddenly wearing big, pink, fuzzy slippers.
"We're here to drink and sell books, Alli," I said, setting up a group of shots.
"UGH!" she exclaimed. "Who do you think is the cutest boy in movies? When I grow up, I'm gonna marry Devon Sawa!!!"
Nick tried to appease Alli with some fingernail painting and gossiping about boys, but you could tell his heart wasn't in it. Alli ultimately left early to write "Alli Sawa" in her spiral notebook 600 times while grooving to 98 Degrees.
Sometimes the 11-year-old inside you is only a few drinks away.
The Dude Who Breaks Stuff
Did you know drinking affects your motor skills? Of course you did. You've all knocked over the potato salad at more than one party, right? Y'know, those potato salad parties that you kids all love.
You kids know how to live. In my day, we were content with Chex Mix.
Anyway, that's because alcohol affects the part of your brain called the cerebellum, which controls muscle movement. Muscle movements start as signals in the cerebral cortex but pass the medulla, where they are influenced by nerve impulses from the cerebellum. And when you're drunk, it's a bad influence. So whereas your body might be trying to send a signal that says "Put the potato salad down gently and enjoy the party," your drunk-ass cerebellum is whispering "Psst, that table is actually one foot lower and made of goo," leading your muscles to compensate accordingly -- and incorrectly. Booze makes you spazzy.
Gladstone: The Breakstuffer
Well, I may have the ability to grow a rich, luxurious beard, but alcohol affects me just like any other man. And if I drink enough, pretty soon I'll break something. Most likely your heart, because I'm dreamy, baby, but also real stuff. For example, during the night, I was truly touched that Brendan, Nick, and Alli bought me some engraved whiskey stones that spelled out "Gladstone." So touched, in fact, that I attempted to balance four stones spelling "GLAD" on top of five stones spelling "STONE." And here's the fun thing. I didn't. Here's the moment the "D" somehow fell off my drunken palm before cracking on the table:
Drunk enough to break a stone.
"That's not a true story," you say. "You can't break a stone." Maybe you're right, but my question is this: "Why weren't you skeptical about the Alli story above?"
The Dude Who Fights About Food (And Everything)
When you're drinking with a group of friends, it always seems no one can agree on food. Someone wants Chinese, others say burgers, and still more insist on potato salad (or so I've been led to believe). First things first. Does alcohol make you hungry? Let's ask someone on Yahoo Answers who claims to be a doctor! According to "Dr. Mike," the carbs in alcohol cause a quick rise in blood sugar, leading to a release of insulin that sets off a chain reaction to stimulate hunger receptors. Is Dr. Mike right? He might be. Lots of things cause hunger. Things like being alive. But that doesn't answer the real question. After everyone gets hungry, why do your friends argue about where to eat? That one's simple. Your friends are dicks.
The Gentleman Bastard: Food-fighter
When the webcam portion of the night was over, we all agreed that further drinks and food were in order. (Except for Alli, who wanted to stay up watching the 1995 version of Casper over and over.) But where to go? To me, the answer was simple: the closest place with alcohol-absorbing carbs. To Nick, the answer was simple: the closest place with alcohol-absorbing carbs. Brian and Alli were also in favor of alcohol-absorbing carbs. But Brendan? No. It seems Mr. McGinley had read something disparaging about the way the closest carb-purveying establishment treated its staff, and he wasn't having it.
The face of a man simply not having it.
Yes, we managed to get Brendan into the pub that we'll call "CJ Hooligan's" (because I don't want to be sued), but we couldn't keep him down. He was demanding to see the owner, picketing up and down the bar, and eating french fries. The man was unstoppable.
Simply unstoppable.
The Dude Who Gets Sick
Anyone who's ever had too much to drink knows that one of the side effects of drinking is puking. They go hand in hand, like fancy-pants cranberry drinks and Brendan McGinley.
Perfect together.
And I bet no one's confused why puking occurs. Think back to that first week of college. What was the diagnosis on that kid who had to be hospitalized after his very first party? Yes, alcohol poisoning. Why? Because basically alcohol is poison, and this Askville page actually does a decent job of explaining that. (What I love about that link, however, is not the answer, but the moronic questioner who is only interested in the biochemical reasons for puking alcohol when not mixing drinks because puking from mixing needs no biochemical explanation because it's "logical" -- y'know, the way humans always logically puke if they drink both Coke and Pepsi.)
Nick: The Puker
My buddy Nick is from England, and English people, much like normal Americans, also have stomachs. I'd like to tell you a humiliating story about how Nick puked in a public place that night and destroyed the restroom of a swank restaurant, but I can't. We didn't go to a swank restaurant. We went to that Irish pub, CJ Hooligan's, and after three more beers and three more bowls of potato salad, Nick puked up his British guts, consistent with England's tradition of messing with the Irish. Some say this story isn't true. (Nick.) Some say it was someone else who created an awful mess for those CJ Hooligan's workers he seemed to care about so dearly only moments earlier to clean up. But, y'know, sometimes booze can affect your memory too.
The Dude Who Divulges Things That Can't Be Taken Back
Yes, alcohol can make you a spastic, belligerent, puking person who sadly tries to become someone else, but it does more good stuff too! Y'see, alcohol affects your cerebral cortex, where all sorts of good stuff happens. And when you throw some alcohol in there, you can become more talkative, but with less judgment. Isn't that an awesome combination? It's like a magic elixir that shrinks your penis while making your underwear invisible. And when that happens you get the guy who says stuff he can't take back.
Brian: The Divulger
So I'd never met Brian before that night, but he came along to pour drinks (as he had been trained by one of the world's top 10 flair bartenders when he used to work at T.G.I. Friday's) and he seemed like a lovely chap. We had no past and I feared no awkward confessions from his drunken state, but after several hours and many alcoholic beverages, we noticed this gentle giant sobbing silently in the alley of CJ Hooligan's. We all turned to look up at our sad Hagridian friend. (Except for Alli, who was pretending the alleyway was a church aisle, shouting "I do. I do marry you, Devon Sawa!!!")
"Why are you crying?" I asked Brian, and he stopped a minute to wring out his beard, which had been collection his tears like a bath sponge left in a leaking shower.
"I have a confession to make," he said. "I didn't just mix the drinks, I ... I ... did stuff to them."
"What kind of stuff?" Brendan asked, before continuing, "And by the way, you could just tell those potato skins were made by employees who haven't been treated fairly, couldn't you?"
"Well, Brendan," Brian said, "I laced your drinks with like a gazillion uppers. It's why you've been such an aggressive prick all night."
Brendan was shocked, but the shock soon turned to intense pain after transforming his fist into a bloody stump on the CJ Hooligan's alley wall.
"And you, Alli. I'm sorry, but I laced your drink with both MDMA and LSD, just about all the letters, basically."
"Thank you, Brian," Alli squealed. "Thank you for making me Mrs. Devon Sawa!"
"What did you put in my drink?" Nick asked, his face as green as a 30-something Englishman who had just puked a lot. (Sorry, I wrote that metaphor while I was still drunk.)
"Nothing," Brian said, "but I did mix it with a syringe I found in medical waste garbage."
"What about me, Brian?" I asked. "Did you put something in my drink to make me clumsy?"
"No, I couldn't do that to you, Gladstone. You're a hero. You're just a huge spazz."
GLADSTONE'S NOTES FROM THE INTERNET APOCALYPSE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!
After experiencing the joy of pre-ordering Book 1 of the trilogy, be sure to follow Gladstone on Twitter.
Also, you can get all your Internet Apocalypse news here as we count down to release.
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