Peeing The Bed, Projectile Vomiting, And Moving Nightmares: The Worst Stories From This Weekend

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I’m at that age where two margaritas and a beer will make me feel disgusting the next day. I’m not proud of it, you’re not impressed, and we should truly just move on.

Before you dive into today’s stories, don’t forget to subscribe to The Sunday Scaries Podcast on iTunes. Not only will it cure your Scaries in less than 15 minutes, but you’ll get to hear some relaxing jazz music as well. Here’s the most recent episode:

If you press play on it, I bet you’ll knock out the entire episode before you’re done reading this column. Give it a shot and, again, make sure to subscribe on iTunes.

Now let’s get into this weekend’s stories. If you have any of your own you want to send my way, my email is will@grandex.co. Always anonymous, always presented to you unedited in quotes below.

I’ve had some pretty bad weekends but this one takes the cake. Last Thursday, I went to a free happy hour after work and proceeded to down six very strong whiskey cokes and consume zero dinner. I then stumbled from our happy hour to a bus stop to go home. After waiting almost 20 minutes for the bus, me and the guy sitting next to me realized it probably wasn’t coming, so naturally we grabbed a drink instead. He led me to an extremely gay bar where I was the only woman in the entire establishment and proceeded to buy me a few drinks.

From there I traveled to a different happy hour to meet up with some friends, and this is also where it gets extremely hazy. Using some deduction skills the next day I pieced together that somewhere between the two bars I climbed a fence and managed to cut up my hand, foot, and clothes pretty badly. I showed up to the next bar, profusely bleeding with my jeans and shirt hanging off of me (somehow they let me in?), and met up with a friend and a lot of her coworkers I had never met before. They took one look at me and insisted I go to the hospital, but drunk me was having none of it, so they called me an uber and sent me on my way. I woke up the next morning with sheets covered in blood and I took one sober look at my hand and knew I needed stitches. After calling in sick to work and spending four hours in the emergency room I left with four stitches in my hand, a tetanus shot, and a bandaged foot that, in the doctor’s words, “didn’t have enough skin to stitch”. Will be taking it easy for the foreseeable future, or at least until my wounds heal.

Was hoping we could start off with a gay bar, a hospital visit, and some blood. This didn’t disappoint.

Also, do people still drink whiskey-cokes? I feel like Big Soda is taking a lot of Ls lately and I can’t remember the last time I saw someone order one at the bar. Soda water > everything.

I just wanted to take a minute to discuss what may have been the worst weekend I’ve ever had, and there wasn’t even drugs or alcohol involved, although I’m in dire need of the latter after this ordeal. Here goes:

So I drove to see my girlfriend this weekend to help her move to Atlanta to start at the store she was just promoted to manage. The company paid for a U-Haul and dolly for her SUV and things were looking like it would be an easy move. I picked up the truck while she worked Saturday, and we loaded a good bit of it Saturday night when she got off, but discovered that, to avoid being towed by her apartment complex, we had to find somewhere else to park it for the night, which led to us driving around town until around 1am. The next morning, the “1 or 2 hours of packing” we had left to do, turned out to be the “5 or 6 hours of packing” we had to do, and we were finally ready to make the trip to Atlanta around 4pm after sweating off 80% of the water in our bodies in 100-something degree heat. Naturally, we throw on the AC when we hop in the U-Haul. Bad move. This is how we discovered that there was an entire colony of ants living inside this truck. They FLEW out of the vents as the AC blew and covered us as we dove out of the truck. We used 2 full cans of Raid to try and kill them, but never managed to get them all.

Finally, we get on the road. About halfway through our drive, I decided we should stop at a Sam’s Club and fill up our tank for the low. The gas tanks automatically shut off at 8 typically, but since it was a Sunday, they shut off at 7. We got there at 7:15. Fast forward to reaching our destination. As my girlfriend doesn’t have a place to live yet, we parked the truck in a relatives yard around 11:30pm in pitch darkness and continued to my apartment for the night, completely drained, mentally and physically exhausted.

What a way to spend our 2 year anniversary.

Sincerely,

On the verge of a mental breakdown.

Wow, just no. I can’t even come up with something entertaining to say because I’m just imagining getting sprayed with ants.

Moving is just one of those things that you can’t make the best out of. I don’t care how close you are — best friend, dating, engaged, married, conjoined twins — you just need to pay top dollar for someone to do it so you don’t end up trying to kill someone.

LTFT, As you always say, sober scaries are typically worse than drunk scaries. I’ll keep this brief, I have to move out of my apartment on July 31st and can’t move into my new place until August 19th. Luckily for me my girlfriend can move in on August 27th, so no problem there. Until the other day when the building she is moving into informs her that the construction won’t be done until the 10th-15th. So now, I have to move the majority of my stuff out of my apartment into an empty friend’s house, keep just enough clothes with me at another friend’s to crash on their couch for two weeks, only to move all my stuff back into my apartment a week later. Oh, and my commute to work went from 10 minutes to an hour and half. T’s and P’s appreciated.

(Please see above.)

Was in the hospital awake for 36 straight hours this weekend during my wedding anniversary with a wife in severe pain.

But we have a daughter now.

Best weekend of my life.

Oh hell yeah. The old “break me down before you build me up.” That’s tight.

First time long time yada yada. Normally I am the type of person to have one of these stories to submit but never do. This one however is a completely sober one. Roommate decided to move out of our three bedroom house without someone replacing him, even though he always said he would find me one, then my truck broke down twice in a week. Total cost to fix it came out to just shy of 3 grand. Thoughts and prayers yall.

I know I always say that “sober Scaries are the worst Scaries,” but this is becoming too much. I need a story about someone getting hammered, and I need it fast.

Last weekend I was in the wedding of the one guy we never thought would settle down so of course, its at our alma mater. All the guys and our dates took Friday off and went back to Athens. As soon as the rehearsal dinner was over it was a mad dash back to the hotel to start drinking. Non of us had done this much drinking since college and we all got pretty trashed at our favorite bars. Nothing of note happened Friday night which looking back, Saturday night made up for that. We were drinking all day (except the groom because he “wanted to stay sharp for the day ahead”) and got through the ceremony which was beyond unbearable due to its a July wedding in Georgia.

The reception is when things start getting fun. The grooms parents are VERY conservative and refer to alcohol as ” the Devil’s mouthwash”. The grooms entire family knows all of our friends very well and so we decided not to get too trashed at the reception out of respect for them but were still drinking a good bit. One guys date apparently did not get the memo. She gets piss drunk and tries to grind on him. He is having none of it. So she moves onto another friend. Same story. This same thing happens with me and one more fraternity brother. While all of us try and get out of the dawg house with all of our girlfriends, she sits in the corner and pouts.

The car ride home is not only the icing, but the entire cake. My buddy has a brand new Tahoe thanks to his parents and graduating from Law School. Brand new as in drove it off the lot with 12 miles the Monday before. This girl insists on riding back to the hotel (30 mins) in the front seat because she’ll get car sick. Ten minutes into the ride she says she has to puke and then proceeds to projectile vomit all over the front seat. If you think that’s bad enough, she then discovers that she has urinated all over the cloth seats. And I mean a full bladder. We’re all pissed (pun intended) because the car smells awful but the realize that the guy who owns the car is more angry.

The night that had such promise at the beginning has suddenly turned into one guy livid, all us annoyed that we had to ride back in a vomit comet and the guy who’s date was so messed up is trying to clean the car at 1:00am.

The only thing I could think of on the ride back to Atlanta was, “Thank the good Lord my car doesn’t smell of fermented urine.”

And there we go. Shout out to this girl for not only getting hammered and pissing everywhere, but for really giving the people what they needed this week.

I do enjoy the fact that her go-to move after getting hammered was “grinding.” Can’t teach old dogs new tricks.

In the past 24 hours, apparently I’m the only one who has had control of bodily functions in my household. We had friends over Friday night and were drinking, but not to blackout level or anywhere close. Unfortunately, my husband was apparently on a different level. We went to bed at the same time, but I guess he moved to the couch at 2:30 a.m. and then peed our brand new, very expensive couch!!! He hasn’t peed anything in 6+ years so cheers to picking our brand new couch as his restart spot. I will give him credit because he drunk cleaned it up lol. Then one of our dogs decided to poop on our green fuzzy bathmat thinking it was turf I guess, so that was fun to wake up to. Then we come back from dinner and our other dog had stomach problems and pooped in the bathroom. Wouldn’t be a big deal, but we decided to run the roomba while we left, so our wonderful roomba dragged shit all over the house. Never thought it would happen to me, but never say never. Let’s not repeat this weekend.

The whole “Roomba dragging shit everywhere” is somehow worse than soiling your brand new couch. As someone who went couch shopping yesterday, I’m making the mental note not to pass out on my new couch when I actually acquire it.

Went to a wedding this weekend where I was a groomsman. Landed and immediately picked up some kind of stomach bug. At the tail end of the second ceremony (had Catholic service then Jewish service) it hits me hard. Managed to make it to end of service but spent the rest of night running to the bathroom every 10 min. Woke up in hotel room this morning in more stomach pain and an email saying my connecting flight is delayed and lands at 1140pm.

Being a sick groomsman is just brutal. Being sick at any wedding would suck, but you really get to peacock when you’re a groomsman and the world is your oyster. My thoughts go out to you.

Oh, and he sent an update.

Update: flight delayed. Landing 1 am now.

Nope.

Submitting this for Sunday Scaries because I still can’t believe the turn of events in the past few days.
So, after being single for months I finally made a Bumble account. The first night I match with this guy and we really hit it off. After texting for two weeks we finally meet up downtown for dinner, stay out and have a hot makeout session at the end of the night. Obviously into each other – a lot. So, Saturday rolls around and I invite him over to the house I’m watching to hang by the pool, go watch the sunset and have some drinks. He comes over, we have an awesome time. Super hot sex in the shower, on the counter, in bed, all of it. (I had to take Plan B Sunday morning.)

Anyways, we go out, watch the sunset and go to a house party for a couple hours. By the time we get back I’m sloshed and so is he. I get a text from the homeowner, “double checking” he won’t be staying the night. He sees the text and decides to leave, on his way home gets a fucking DUI. After our second god damn date. He doesn’t know I know and I feel fucking terrible.

Hope your weekend was better.

Sincerely,

The Hot Mess Express

I normally don’t post drunk driving stories but this is a message to all you people out there: don’t drink and drive because you’ll fuck yourselves over like this guy. Congrats on hitting it off with him though.

No time for intros, lets keep this shirt and sweet before I throw up again.

So I am a father who doesn’t go out much these days, so when the opportunity presented itself to have the in-laws watch the son so my wife and I could hit the DC United game I jumped all over it. Like any red blooded American, we chose to pregame, which ended up meaning pitchers of margaritas. Now me and tequila have a history, but I figured no shots, and it’s early in the day, so things will be fine. Spoiler, it was not.

Margaritas turned to beer garden, where there was a 10% discount if you bought tokens 5 at a time, so had to do that, simple math. Headed to the game and probably blacked out shortly after the first goal.

Caught an uber home, threw up in it several times, got mixed up on which building I lived in, and had to get my father in law to save us and let us in our own apartment, and am now puking as my son watches Sesame Street. At some point today I need to log in and do work, but not sure how I’m gonna make it there. This is rock bottom.

I love the drunk logic of, “Oh! I’ll save ten percent if I buy five beers!” No one needs five beers at once even if they’re half off.

[Side note: I definitely would’ve bought five beers at once, for what it’s worth.]

Everything was going well this weekend. Got a couple miles in. Headed to church Sunday and got rear ended by a Hummer H2. Since my car is a 1994 it’s likely totaled. And as of tomorrow I’ve had it one year. Happy Sunday to me!

Getting rear-ended sucks. Getting rear-ended by an H2 is worst case scenario. I bet the other driver is pissed because you ruined his day of wakeboarding and listening to Puddle of Mudd.

I cheated on my boyfriend of two years last night.

Never thought I would do something so shitty but I was wasted and am apparently a worse person than I thought. Thought I would marry this dude but he’s understandably not going to stay with me after this. It’s a rough sunday.

Nooooooooooo. What is you doing? Sounds like you’re going to tell him, though, which is somehow better than just not saying a word and hoping your life will sort things out. Proactivity, people.

Currently writing to you while taking a break from scrubbing my mattress. The guy I brought home last night woke me up by asking if I wanted to hear the good news or the bad news first. I said bad. He informed me that he peed the bed in his drunken stupor. I’m equal parts disgusted and furious right now and all I wanted today was to enjoy a hungover nap in my own comfy bed.

My dog had a stomach issue recently and had to let her bladder go on the bed at 3 a.m. It wasn’t ideal and I can confirm that nothing is worse than not being able to enjoy your own bed because someone (or something) soiled it.

She followed up as well (with screenshots).

Update: he can’t take a hint and won’t stop texting me to make jokes about it.

Man, this guy sucks.

Currently in Vail on family vacation with my girlfriend and her family. The only scaries I have are what if I can’t get to all the places I want to sit at and have a drink at and accidentally getting drunk and committing to living here.

File this under “Best Weekend Stories.” Asshole.

I read your series each week and never thought I would have a story worthy enough to submit, but here I am sitting on my couch in my boxers feeling like I got hit by a train.

I had a graduation party for a friend of mine’s brother and was really looking forward to not having to drop a check at the bar and enjoy some free food and booze. I started out all day drinking strictly vodka waters. I was actually quite impressed with myself for making a conscience decision to not get belligerent, that didn’t last long. I’m not sure who’s idea it was, but someone suggested we take a round of shots. One shot couldn’t hurt, right? The problem is it didn’t stop at one. It seemed like whenever someone was taking a shot, I was right there next to them bottoms up. I must have done close to ten or fifteen shots of all sorts of liquor. Titos, Jack, Captain, you name it, I was slamming it. My buddie’s aunt gave me a ride home around midnight of which I have no recollection of. I woke up this morning naked, hanging over the toilet with puke all over my kitchen table and floor.

Safe to say not my proudest moment.

I’m spending the remainder of my Sunday consuming as much Gatorade as I possibly can and watching reruns of Friends.

I… I don’t know. As someone who isn’t a big puker, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I woke up to puke all over my kitchen table. Honestly, I’d probably just pack my car with my essentials, move, and start a new life elsewhere. It’s not worth the clean up.

Hey man,

Flew into Phoenix from Minneapolis (wuddup Midwest) on Thursday at 5am for a bachelor party that I planned for my buddy from college (read: frat bro). Flew in a day early because I wanted to golf and everyone else was bitching about the heat. Played 36 holes on Thursday in 115 degree heat. Proceed to b/o Friday and Saturday.

Had a nice dinner Saturday before going out of authentic Mexican food. This causes a chain reaction the likes of which I’ve never seen/felt before and my body is still not the same, I’m not sure it ever will be.

Flight home leaves at 8:15pm and will land at 1:15am CST and I have to interview a potential new employee at 8:30am. My wife is picking me up with my 2 month old daughter that I’ve been away from for 4 days and I’ve already been getting a string of text lashings about my behavior.

I’m so scared man, I need help. Love your shit, keep it up

Stop. taking. the. late. flight.

I’m going to have to do an entire Sunday Scaries Podcast on how to travel after benders, aren’t I?

Writing from the middle seat of a 6:20 AM United flight from Vegas to New Employee Orientation for my first post grad job that I started 3 weeks ago in SF. The Monday after a weekend trip sucks but going on a work trip? After Vegas? I did this to myself (fuck). Haven’t checked my bank account, and the person next to me 100% didn’t shower. Also since United sucks and and overhead compartment space is scarce, my carryon bag is 10 rows behind me.

The worst part of all this is your bag being so far behind. I HATE it when I have to move out of the way for people so they can go back and get their shit. It’s almost as bad as when someone sitting in the back of the plane puts their bag above your seat so they can grab it on the way out. Such a dick move. Just bring your bag back with you like a normal person and don’t take other people’s space.

Hi Will, This is from about 6 weeks ago because I forgot to press send on the email and stored it in my drafts since I was still hungover. But anyway…

In an effort to save 8 hours of PTO I decided not to take a day off to recover between getting home from Bonnaroo and going back to work. My plane home got delayed so I landed in my city around 10pm Monday night which was not ideal. And as you may have guessed, after 4 days and 5 nights at a music festival drinking, doing drugs, and sleeping 3-4 hours a night in a tent, being in my cube at 7:30am on Tuesday was not very fun.

I will definitely be taking a recovery day next year.

I respect that you know you’re going to go next year even though you hated your life so much. That’s dedication to the party game. See you all next week. .

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Will

Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.

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