Here’s an oldie but goodie from back in the darks days when blogging meant sending out an email to all of your friends.

What follows is an email written when I was young and full of piss and thought it would be cute to try to consume 24 drinks in 24 hours on my 24th birthday.  It’s not difficult if you go by the 1 drink an hour method but seeing as to how sleep and work get in the way, you’re really talking like 24 drinks in 12 hours or something.  Google confirms that this is a first in history of mankind.  I’m famous.

“Dear Friends,

The feat last night was accomplished. On the night on my 24th birthday, with a little help from my friends, I was able to consume 24 alcoholic beverages in 24 hours to commemorate my 24th birthday and this email is a little shout out to all y’all because when you’re thinking about doing stupid, idiotic shit, such as a birthday stunt that has STOMACH PUMP written all over it for example, you have to have friends like Punky Brewster.

So here’s how it went down:

10/4 12:00 am-1:30 am: 4 shots and 2 beers
10/4 12:00 pm: beer with lunch, word
10/4 5 pm-8 pm: five shots of bourbon
10/4 8 pm-10 pm: 4 beers

10:01 pm.  8 drinks to go in 1 hour and 59 minutes and I’m fading fast. Though I had taken my vitamins and ginseng pills, it was a long day at work and my mind wasn’t into it anymore. I’m ready to pitch the paint, put on a skirt and not go the distance. 

I’m standing on the mound, with the perfect game still intact, but in danger of losing the whole enchilada.

Conrad Connecticut, who had been playing the part of Don Zimmer the whole night, says, “That’s it, buddy.”

And I nod, “I coulda been a contenda…”

But Johnny Palisades buys me another beer and I’m suddenly double fisting, with 17 and 18 in hand.

This is the beginning of the turning point, the second wind; the part where when they say “Only the luck of the Irish could have pulled this off, not a Chinaman’s chance” and you say, “Fuck off, McDick.”

This is when you have absolutely nothing left but the love of the game and you decide it’s time to go for broke. 

Johnny Palisades buys me two shots. I say “No” and he says, “Buckle down, this is your shot at greatness!”

And they go down easy - 19 and 20 and the fire is back.

11:30 pm: 4 shots lined up. And with all of the fine patrons at Plug Uglies cheering me on, they go down - 21, 22, 23, and 24 - history.

At the stroke of midnight, I kissed one more shot for good measure.

25 in 24 hours with the bed spins and no vomit.

And me and Billy Joe London beat some guy at pool and it was good.

And I make it into work on time at 9 am, thanks to Ricky Tokyo waking me up.

Truth be told, I’m not feeling so fresh right now. My brain feels like its swimming in liquid. But alas, that’s a small price to pay for immortality.

Thanks guys,
jhk
 
For those who weren’t there, I thought of each one of you once or twice throughout the evening and they were all pleasant thoughts.”

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