Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase four heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.


It's May of my sophomore year of college. I had been digging this cute exotic-looking girl who was in one of my classes all semester long but we ran in different circles and never ran into each other outside of class. That changed at an after-hours party late one Saturday night.

She's there with a friend visiting from some other town. I'm there with a buddy with giant coke-bottle glasses who was completely hammered. For some reason, the Out of Town friend dug my pal and me and my girl were getting along great, so we all decide to head back to my girl's dorm. We get there and within 30 minutes we are all half naked in the same room. I was concentrating on my girl. My buddy was concentrating on his. That is, until he has to go to the bathroom to puke. I was pissed as I thought this was going to kill the vibe. But no, as he was puking, his girl saunters over to our bed and is hanging with us. I'm not sure what to do about this (because I was a moron) and I kind of just let her sit there. My girl also sort of ignored her. Now this girl was cute. So I finally make the move to bring her into the fold. That's when my buddy stumbles out of the bathroom, stomps on over, pulls his girl out of the bed and takes off with her. And she went with him without a sound. So I suck for that. That's hook-up failure number one for the night.

But I still have a cutey with me and we get back to business. Just as we are getting fully naked, I swear to Christ a snowball flew through her second floor dorm window. It was May. It had to be 65 degrees out and had been beautiful for weeks. I hadn't seen snow in at least two months. But there it was, staring me in the face. A big-assed snowball in the middle of her room. Needless to say my girl jumps up. She's freaked out. We go over to the window and there is some jackass out there getting ready to fire a second snowball. She calls out to him. "Frank! What the hell are you doing?" He says something unintelligble.

My girl mumbles an apology and says she'll be right back and leaves. I'm standing there buck naked trying to figure out just why my great night was disintegrating so quickly. I watch through the window as my girl confronts Frank. They talk for a minute and then start making out. Hook-up failure number two is complete.

I got dressed and left. I had to walk right by them on the way to my place. Fucking terrible. I should have tossed the snowball in their faces. But I suck. So I didn't.

Yes, but I have to give Frank points for creativity. So many young people out there store snowballs from the winter. So few get to throw them at naked people.


In the fall of 2008 I was attending Indiana University and having spent the majority of my college experience chained to one girl, I was looking to mix it up with a little strange. One Wednesday night me and a group of some of the most talented skirt chasers Bloomington has ever seen headed down to an establishment known as "Sports" which was having a "half off drinks" night.

Pause. Why am I not shocked at all that there's a sports bar in Indiana named Sports? It's just that bland of a state. I wouldn't be shocked if the other bars in town were called Bar, Drinks, and Shots. Sports is the Houston Texans of sports bar names.

After a plethora of Jager and Bud Lights I was building up the liquid courage that would lead me down the road to ultimate disgrace.

As I found myself engulfed in the malted hop frenzy that was taking over my central nervous system, I happened to notice a lady who was kind of giving me the eye. Now, at the time, she seemed like she was going to fit quite well into my plans for some random, unmitigated one-on-one harpooning that evening. As we began to mosey for the exit and what would be some wild coitus, I noticed two serious issues. One, I realized this upstanding young lady knew a lot of people, including the girl I was currently dating.

Secondly, and most importantly, I realized that as we had made the short walk back to the frat house (5 blocks) she had already choked down three heaters. I find it requisite to mention I absolutely HATE cigarettes. The smell, the taste, everything. There is absolutely no appeal to me. But as every drunken man can attest, there are certain occasions where you bend your own rules for the sake of getting your nut.

We make our way into our room and as we begin to fool around a bit I notice her blindly feeling around for her purse. After she stopped her frugal search for whatever treasure she had hidden in her overpriced Coach bag we began to kick things up a notch so I reached for a condom.

After a few moments of stumbling and fumbling about as we tossed in the sack, Dora the Explorer once again began her quest for the lost treasure. But to my amazement, she wasn't reaching for a buzzing cell phone or lip gloss. She was, in fact, reaching for the pack of Parliaments she had stashed away in her purse. All of sudden fear and panic set in as I not only realized that she was about to light a cig while laying in my bed, but that when my girlfriend came over in the morning, she was not going to buy the excuse that I rented my room to an over the road trucker for the night.

To my outstanding fortune, this girl had somehow misplaced her lighter and announced she was going to look for one. So as I watched her make her way down the hall and turn the corner, I made a panicked, rash, and generally unwise decision, I pitched all her belongs (purse, jacket, cell phone) in the hallway and locked my door. I would later realize as the alcohol seeped from my pores the next morning, no girl wants you to have an impromptu rummage sale with her belongings in the middle of a sex session. When this girl came back she knew what was up and after banging on my door begin to cry hysterically. Meanwhile I had made my exit (condom still on mind you) down another hallway. Luckily my friends consoled her and told her I was an asshole and to forgive me. As I was to find out later I didn't only cockblock myself with her, but her entire sorority who instantly thought I was the biggest asshole since Ted Bundy. News of my douchery spread quite rapidly and I found myself to have committed social suicide. Two years later, I'm just beginning to recover.

Yeah, but you kinda deserved that one. And by "kinda," I mean "entirely".


A gal in my math class, we'll call her Gina, and I ran into each other at a party one night, and we were bullshitting when it became evident that the potential for some pinch and squeal was in the works. Gina, at one point confided in me that she was bisexual (which when you're a 18 year old male really drives the imagination crazy), and she thought I was cute, so we left for her apartment. We got through the front door and then we were passionately kissing, leaving a trail of clothes through the kitchen and into her bedroom and finally found the bed. She's kissing and touching me all over, I'm happy as shit to be groping a good-looking (I was twisted off of Busch Light at this point) naked bisexual girl from my class, things are going good.

I'm sure every guy went through this phase at some point: you heard some shit, from someone, where you were told or heard that if you do this to a female, that it will blow her mind in bed. And then, like the hormone-crazed idiot you are, you try and do it with every girl you come across. Well for me, it was lightly sucking on their tongue; not in that awful "sucking pop through a straw" manner, but that sort of (at least what I thought it was" erotic teasing sort of way. So, I went for it, as smooth as I could, and she responded to it very well.

I felt like I was Leon Lett about to step into the end zone, unaware that Don Beebe was on my heels trying to take away my certain score.

Gina gets on top of me, and goes, "it's my turn" (ominous sounding now that I think about it.) She kisses me, and begins to suck on my tongue...and then violently jerks her head to the left, with my tongue in her suction vice grip.

BLINDING PAIN. I'm seeing light, like someone used their camera flash in my face. Then I taste it. My own blood. The face that Gina continued to kiss and grope my while I covered mouth and winced in pain was secondary now. To be honest, I don't remember what she did or what happened until I grabbed my clothes and left. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even verbalize what just happened. I literally thought she tore my tongue out. I leave and walk a mile or two back to my dorm room, but first into the bathroom so I could inspect whatever damage there is, because my mouth hurts like hell.

At this point, I want you to go look in a mirror, and open your mouth. Lift your tongue like you're trying to touch the roof of your mouth with it. You see that tendon/ligament thing that connects the tongue to the bottom of your mouth? Mine was torn, bleeding and swollen. I couldn't eat for a week, and couldn't really talk without pain for a couple of days after (It's not like I could just put a Band-Aid or Bactine on it.)

I ran into Gina a few weeks later at another party, and she asked me why I left her place that night. I explained to her that she mortally wounded me in her fit of passion, that I couldn't talk, etc. She apologized profusely, asked if I was ok and so on and so forth. We went about mingling though the party, until the end, when she came to me apologized again, grabbed my shit, and whispered in my ear, "let's do it again."

And then… she twisted Dan's balls off.

I was given advice in college that lightly sucking on a girl's lower lip is something they like. So I did that once with a girl and she liked it, and then I was like WOW IF I DO IT HARDER SHE'LL LIKE IT MORE! Then I basically ate her poor lip. She was not pleased.


So I met this girl in my neighborhood while I was in my freshman year of college. She was a senior at the local high school. (I lived at home as the college was close by). We started dating in early November and during my winter break we had decided to go to Disney World in Orlando and enjoy the turning of the Millennium at the happiest place on earth. She wanted to go as she had never been before. I wanted to go so I could finally get laid and not have to worry about sneaking around at her parents house, my parents house, or my tiny pickup truck out on a back road. We had yet to have sex so I figured this would be the time I could lose my virginity. We had fooled around a little but it was just such a hassle trying to hide from nosy siblings and parents. So I got a room with a king size bed and got ready for the debauchery. It was about time.

We lived in Virginia and decided that the best and cheapest way for us to get there was by a Greyhound bus. It was about a 19 hour bus ride. We stopped off at the local mall to grab some dinner before our overnight bus ride. I went to Wendy's at the food court and got a cheeseburger. I noticed it was a bit slimy and cold. But I was starving so I ate it. We got on the bus and found some seats in the middle. It was nighttime and pitch black out. Prior to the start of our bus ride she had been telling me all the nasty things she wanted to do while we were in Orlando, so I was already pretty antsy. We had about an hour before we had to connect to another bus in Richmond, so we settled in. I grabbed her hand and moved it over to my pants and got her to start jerking me off in the middle of the bus in the dark. This was going to be an awesome week.

It was about this time that I started to feel my stomach turn. I had never had nausea hit me so fast in all my life. It hit my stomach, it churned, I had about 30 seconds where I thought maybe I could hold it in and then, PUKE. I cupped my hands under my face and just vomited. I filled my hands with puke and it overflowed onto my lap where my girlfriend had her hand in my unzipped pants. She pulled away and I could hear her gasp and then cup her face with her other hand and look out the window trying not to puke herself. Then I had a second lurch and it was just everywhere. I heaved for about 10 minutes until nothing was coming up. My stomach was completely emptied. The only people on the bus who noticed anything were the two people across the isle and my girlfriend.

The bus stopped 45 minutes later or so and the lights came on and people started to get up. I held my head in shame and didn't even open my eyes. I didn't even have the energy to zip up my pants. I was completely drained. I could hear the gasps as people walked past my pile of vomit on my lap and on the floor. My girlfriend was still staring out the window. The stench was unbearable. After everyone left, I got my suitcase and got a new pair of pants and underwear and changed on the bus. I threw my old underwear into the toilet. For the next 18 hours of bus rides the food poison kept hitting me. We sat in the back next to the toilet of every other bus on the way down. And I just kept vomiting and dry heaving.

It took me 2 days to get over it in our hotel room. No sex, no nothing. We didn't even go to the parks. I felt like someone had beat the shit out of me. I was so exhausted. We eventually got out to the parks, but I still had moments of nausea all week long. I was exhausted the entire time and just didn't have the energy for anything after all those hours at the park. One night she took a shower and came out, jumped on top of me completely naked. But I still could do nothing. This was my chance to finally lose my virginity, get unlimited sex action without being bothered by anyone, and nothing would happen all because of a fucking Wendy's cheeseburger. We left Orlando having had zero sexual activity. Zero. I didn't lose my virginity for 3 more months. Fuck you Wendy's. Fuck you.

But hey, that burger probably only cost you a buck. That's good savings.