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Daylight savings time, man. An extra hour. An extra hour to sleep in. An extra hour to knock out some hungover chores you otherwise would’ve ignored. An extra hour to have a mental breakdown when you realize Monday’s looking over your shoulder. You have to love it.
Hopefully you used that extra hour to do two (2) things — listen to yesterday’s episode of The Sunday Scaries Podcast that covered Portrait Mode, Monday Blues (!!!), and health foods that actually suck. And also listen to some Worst Weekend Story breakdowns on Touching Base.
If you haven’t, here you go:
Now let’s get into this weekend’s crop of stories. As always, these are anonymously submitted to firstname.lastname@example.org every Sunday night and are presented to you unedited in blockquotes below.
Some sober scaries that I’m sure will carry with me throughout the weekend.
my horse is getting emergency surgery right now for a hoof issue. For reference, this would be the equivalent of Rosie not being able to walk and you potentially putting her down.
Ive had my beloved pet for over 12 years so it just sucks seeing her in pain and not knowing what the future entails.
Okay, how dare you bring my dog into this. She’s not even two and I’m still thinking to myself, “What am I going to do when she’s gone?” and then you have to hit me with this? Unfair. Totally unfair. That being said, I’m sorry about your horse. That sucks.
I’m writing this to you at 730 AM Sunday morning. That’s right. Weekend isn’t even over yet.
Daylight savings really got me f*cked right now, and I’ve been up since 7. A wave of panic came over me as soon as I woke up this morning.
So, I stayed in Friday night simply because I couldn’t convince anyone to go out with me. Saturday comes and I have a great productive day. Around 4pm the group chat starts going off and soon enough I have plans for Saturday night.
I meet up at my friends place to pregame around 9 and only have 2 beers, I think I’m in the clear, it’ll be a good night. Nope
We finally hit the bars around 11 and I just start chugging all the beers my one friend wasn’t drinking because she was in a mood and her bf seemed pretty pissed so I figured I could fix it by getting black out drunk. Pretty sure after 3 of my own IPAs (I know it’s not the move and also I have 0 tolerance) I definitely met a guy out and thought OK perfect this is going to be a good night. Can’t remember what happened next but definitely somewhere between then and now I had a bunch of people including the guy I met at my apartment smoking some things out in our living room and I’m pretty sure my roommate was home in bed at that point and we definitely were not being respectful of her space. I do remember asking my moody friend if this was real life or not so that kind of explains my state I guess.
Don’t remember anything else but when I woke up i realized that I have no idea where my purse is and I think I left my debit card at the last bar we went to (fingers crossed I just blacked out and don’t remember closing out my tab). Woke up in my bed alone, assuming i didn’t close the deal with that guy i met, and the smell of certain substances is still lingering in the air in the shared space of my apartment. Pretty sure I’m still drunk and I’m hoping to be able to sleep it off for a couple more hours because I’m going out to brunch with a cousin whos moving home from Cali (she’s a little younger and likes to party and honestly I’m terrified of this brunch) also already regretting the pinky promise I made to my roommate to go to the gym Monday morning before work.
Hopefully that wasn’t too rambling and incoherent.
Now let’s see if I make it through brunch…
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — you kind of have to go out Friday nights to keep you honest on Saturday nights. Or else you’ll pound three IPAs and wake up wondering where you went wrong. Though, I think you know where you went wrong. Hopefully you didn’t puke on your cousin.
Hey Will, not my first time. Who knows if it’ll be my last. Anyhoo, last night attended a wedding where two of my best friends got remarried. Everything went great until I went home. Got on the first L train thinking I’d head out of the Loop towards my car. Nope, this one circles the Loop and heads out again. Get off at my original stop and change trains. I’m sitting on the train and we are stopped and the PA says “we are momentarily stopped for a sick passenger.” Great, all I wanted to do was get home. Then I see and hear a guy who is staggering around trying to pick fights with other passengers and train crew.
Stuff gets worse from there. I get to my car and head towards hone. Making a left turn when Waze tells me to, I get hit. And spin. And go into a full blown panic attack. Cops come, guy who hit me is off duty cop. I collect myself and finally get back on the highway. Brain says NOPE! I end up driving to a hospital to try to get Xanax (dumbass me didn’t bring any with me.) Finally to make matters worse I somehow lost my parking validation in the ward. $20 for a lost ticket. So now Scaries are in full swing. At least my car is drivable.
At least your car is drivable? No, at least you’re not dead. I also have several questions about this wedding — remarried to each other? Other people? How old are they? I’m so confused. How all out do you go for Wedding Pt. II?
This comes from about a month ago but I finally have the cajones to tell the world. Before we begin I need to tell you and the rest of the world you were right…never go back. Let’s begin…..
So I went to a small school down south and played football for them so we have a small alumni base and they are all local. We get invited to come back to the dedication of the new stadium and the first game under the lights…needless to say I was hyped. So we go back to our little college town and the wife and baby go meet with her friends for coffee and I meet the old team at the local brewery. I’m two hours late so I start pounding IPAs on an empty stomach so by the time we go to the tailgate I’m feeling a good buzz. We met the rest of the alumni and we started playing beer pong and drinking light beers. We got invited to the VIP tailgate with free beer and food. My wife and 3 month old baby meet us there and so I tone the drinking back and eat a shit ton of food thinking this will help….but Then it hit the belligerent brown out. Kickoff had already happened and I hit another couple beers…had my first cigarette in 2 years…and then the next thing I remember Is puking next to my wife’s car. Next thing is I’m sitting outside my in-laws why my MIL is giving me water while the wife is getting our child. We get home with my wife giving me the silent treatment the whole drive back.
The worst part is the next day is our anniversary….I trued to make it up with breakfast in bed and flowers. I’ll never live this down…finished the weekend cleaning puke off of my white boosts and my levis. Got a Venmo request from my buddy For the apparent “belligerent behavior.”
Never. Go. Back. To. Your. Alma. Mater.
Never. drink. IPAs. on. an. empty. stomach.
The silent treatment ahead of your anniversary is not what you want. Last thing you want is to have to go out and spend double what you were going to because you let your Alma Mater get the best of you. Also, deny your friend’s request. That’s a dick move.
Also, we broke this story down on Touching Base here:
I went back to the illustrious Gainesville, FL for Homecoming.
It’s noon and I’m pretty sure I’m still sort of drunk and I have a 5 hour drive home (I’m not driving, my friend is.) I feel like absolute shit.
Also I start a new job tomorrow. Help me.
I mean, did you think going to Homecoming ahead of starting a new job was the move? Because I can confirm, it was not.
I’m writing this to you exhausted from a week long tour of London, Paris and Amsterdam. The worst story of course is from the part of the trip in Amsterdam. My best friend from college and I did some normal touristy stuff during the day, but at night we started drinking, heavily. We went around to a bunch of bars and clubs and met these two British girls who we asked to show us to the Red Light District. Once we got there we did as young men do when they go there. I got out first and waited outside for my friend because he didn’t get an international plan so we had no way to communicate unless he has WiFi. After about 5 minutes the urge to pee is overwhelming and I find an alley to go in. I get back and wait about 10 more minutes before I start to worry. My phone is at 8% at this point and I have no idea where my friend is. Meanwhile, it’s about 4:00 in the morning and this part of town is so sketchy. I had at least 7 men offer me blow or meth, and I watched a man threaten to drown another man in the canal. I decide to get the fuck out of this part of the city and just hope my friend got back to the hotel. I’m walking to a main road so I can call an uber and on the way I find my friend shoeless by a lake feeding bread to the swans. No fucking clue how he got that bread but who cares. Thankfully my phone stays alive long enough to get an uber to the hotel. Moral of the story never lose your friends in the Red Light District it’s fucking terrifying.
I just had a minor panic attack thinking about having a phone with less than 10% battery in a foreign country. Like I may dream about it tonight and wake up in a cold sweat. Love your friend just being as homeless as possible feeding bread to swans.
Went to Temecula Wine Country with a group of 16 people this weekend for a friends. I have drank a lot of wine. It is 2:30pm currently. The car I’m in decided to hit some wineries before we head back home to LA, 2 hours away.
I’m involuntarily doing a Sunday funday and have no idea when I’ll be home. This wine GOES though.
Haven’t peed yet today because I’m that dehydrated. Should be a good Monday.
Forgot to mention the imminent venmos I’ll receive because the Airbnb definitely has some wine stains that weren’t there before.
Wine flip cup. I recommend but also don’t.
Honestly, there are worse ways to do involuntary Sunday Fundays than this. Better than going to a dark bar to watch NFL football, having your team lose, and accidentally drinking four pitchers of light beer that make you limp all through Monday. Wine country? Yeah, sign me tf up.
LTFT. After working a month straight, putting in long ass hours thanks to this god forsaken election, and preparing to move in with my gf, I finally have a my first few days off.
Week ends like this: Wed is my last day of work, then drive from KC to Topeka to stay the night in a hotel before I finish my drive to Denver and the gf on Thursday. Unpack, chill, move in. Friday my gf and I fly to Nashville for a couples weekend with two other couples that the gf knows from work. Now I’m already hesitant about the weekend because this is all new territory for me, but fuck it, how bad can it be?
I recently caught my gf lying about some stuff and it was eating me up inside about how to tell her so I already went to Nashville with my head in the wrong place. The plan was to have a steady buzz all weekend but drinking+upset=bad move. The weekend was fine until Saturday night. After a day of drinking and bar hopping on Broadway, we get back to the house and I tell her what’s been bothering me which turned into a drunk fight before dinner. I don’t even eat because I already know we’re headed for shitsville, USA. We go home right after dinner and more drunk arguing turns into her breaking up with me, me TRYING to fly out of BNA last night but no cigar, getting a hotel to sleep in and taking a severely hungover morning flight back to Denver and now I’m packing my shit for an eventual several day drive to DC to find a new job.
You could make the case that bringing this up was certified not the move, but I kind of respect you for doing it in such a scorched earth manner. Get some drinks in, speak your mind, leave nothing behind. Boom. Hopefully it all works out, though.
Never thought I’d see the day where I’d be writing you on a Sunday, but here we are. I know you always say “never go back to your alma mater” but what is the official ruling on going to your significant other’s alma mater? Because I fucked up this weekend. His parents invited us to spend the weekend at their condo to come for the game. Flew us out, bought us tickets to the game, the whole deal. I’d never been to an SEC game or tailgate so I was all in and stoked to see what it was all about. We were prepping for an 8am tailgate for the 11:00 game, & I was ready to go. Except for the fact that we went really wild Friday night at his favorite college bar with a bunch of his fraternity brothers. I woke up Saturday morning & instead of getting ready to go tailgate all day & go to the game, I spent HOURS puking. His entire extended family was going to be at this tailgate, and we missed the whole thing and the game. Bless my boyfriend for holding my hair back all day, but I felt like the biggest piece of trash. When we finally dragged ourselves to the tailgate post-game, everyone said “you’re alive!” and assured me that it happens to everyone. But please confirm – despite how nice they are, this was an absolute garbage move on my end, right? Also, any advice on how to live this down at future gatherings with his family are very much welcomed.
Okay, it’s clearly Alma Mater Season and people are getting after it. I almost have to just respect it at this point because there’s no way people are just going to magically start avoiding it despite how they always leave in total shambles.
Just checking in. Ended up having three dates this weekend and two of them were on Sunday (I don’t recommend that move), it just wears you down all day. Oh and my alma mater won at the last second which I ended up making out with a girl in celebration before my date on Saturday night.
Big Will Grier guy, eh?
Also, Sunday dates are psychotic. Two of them? Downright maniacal.
Just ordered an Uber to go out at 8:34pm on a Sunday night.
There is a 99% chance tomorrow will be an awful day at work and I deserve it.
Yes, yes you do. But knowing that going in is half the battle.
Big fan of the poddies. Keep it real.
I’m going to keep it short: Saw my ex of one week, got an anxiety attack early Sunday afternoon, went full 2007 Brittany Spears and shaved my head. Nice.
Hahahahaha. This was a guy, by the way.
Took my nursing school test Saturday after studying for only 3 hours. After the test I drove straight to a brewery and immediately downed a couple IPAs. Continued that when I got home by drinking more IPAs till 2am, hitting up other breweries, bars, and a comedy club. Woke up (in my bed) cuddling a couple of traffic cones and guess what? The presumed hangover from hell never came. Midday today I found out that I scored in the 92nd percentile of that test (beating my ex by a magnificent 2%). Followed it up by sticking the first IV I’ve ever attempted. What are Sunday Scaries?
God threw you a Hail Mary and you caught it in the end zone with hardly any time left on the clock. Good for you. .