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

Wanna know one of the easier ways to lose your commenter star, or never get one? Bitch about these stories being fake. You may as well say FIRST or PHOTOSHOPPED, because it's just as stupid and fucking pointless. No one cares about your ace bullshit detection work, Sherlock. Now, onto the failures.


I dated this girl during my senior year of college for about 2 weeks. She was real cute and a sweet girl, but she was also pretty crazy and ended up being the one who broke up with me. It was kind of a blessing at the time though - her friends kept telling me that she was a virgin, and that I had to be real careful with how I handled sexual stuff. And I don't mean they told me once, I mean like every other day, and in very cryptic ways. Weirded me out.

So a year later I'm still in town doing post grad work, and she's still going to school. We hadn't hung out in months, but one night she calls me over to smoke and hang out. I'm not doing anything, so I figure why not. We smoke, chat a bit, and decide to watch a movie together. Things are going fine, and I'm feeling high, when out of the blue she asks if I want to take a shower. Totally out of left field, seriously. So I double check, and she asks again. So I do, naturally, what any super high dude does when asked that question:

I tell her, "Naw, I already took a shower today, I'm pretty clean."

So she ups the ante. "No, I meant do you want to take a shower with me? It could be fun."

Now my high self catches up to speed. Problem is, my mind was still focused on all the stuff her friends said when we dated. And all of a sudden I "realized" why she wanted to take a shower with me. She wanted to show me her dick.

See, I went to a liberal hippie college, and she had several close friends who were transgender. So somewhere in my high mind, friends with dicks + other friends who stressed how delicate I had to be with her sex life = she must have a dick. Clearly she only wanted to take a shower with me so that she could drop trou and share the goods with me because she trusted me or something. So I told her, "Naw, no offense to you, but I really am clean. I don't need a shower."

She got quiet, we watched the rest of the movie in awkward silence, and I ran out at the end, barely saying goodbye. I biked home, and I swear I looked behind me every 2 seconds on the way back, worried that she was chasing me, just begging to show me her throbbing member.

Needless to say, a few weeks later I heard from a mutual friend that she was, as John Mayer put it, like sexual napalm in the bedroom. My twisted high mind blocked me from an amazing hookup, and I've never forgiven it for that..

Never buy that weed again.


I'm 40-years-old and recently separated, so of course I'm doing the online dating thing. I send out a flirty email to this girl (late 30s) expecting the typical rejection/non-response I receive from every hot MILF. But this one is actually interested and we eventually agree to meet. She is absolutely stunning in person and immediately wants to drink. We go bar hopping all night and get loaded. When the bars close down she invites me back to her place. We are making out in the parking lot and we're all over each other as she opens her apartment door.

It's about 2:30am and her 9-year-old son is still up playing Wii with no babysitter in sight. I'm thinking she is going to order him to bed but instead she tells him to make us both a cocktail. The little bartender makes us a drink and invites me to play Wii. I figure I can play "stepdad" for a few minutes before she sends him to bed. I pass out on her couch around 4:30am while drunk mommy and her cock-blocking son are still going strong on the Wii.



I was in Montreal for my buddy's bachelor party and we met a couple French Canadian chicks, a blond and brunette. Nothing too special but worth hanging out and attempting to have international intercourse with. There were 2 of them and 8 of us, but since only a couple of us were single that wasn't such a bad thing. We bar hop with them for a while before I end up back at their place with one of the other guys. After a couple more drinks I end up making out with the blond while the brunette is hanging out not hooking up with my friend. After a couple minutes, literally while I have my hand up her shirt and am feeling her very nice boobs, she says she can't continue. "Why not?" I ask. She then says something completely unexpected- "I have a boyfriend, and he KILLED HIMSELF 2 WEEKS AGO."

I was stunned. I'd certainly heard the boyfriend line before, and even gotten laid despite it, but the recently deceased boyfriend? Dead by suicide? That was a new one, and I had no idea what to say or do. We ceased making out and I talked to her for a couple minutes about "moving on." This was, of course, a desperate attempt to get laid. To no one's surprise, this attempt failed. She cried, and then began loudly playing Beethoven on the piano at 5 in the morning.

It was a very surreal experience to say the least. The night finally ended when her friend drove me back to my hotel at 6am.

You see, people? Suicide is nothing but an act of selfishness.


So back in college I took an easy "A" course in sociology. Everyone got "A's" in this class, so it was worth putting up with the inanity of the 12 weeks. One of the projects was to chart a new relationship, and write a paper on how it developed. So you had to pick someone in the class that you did not know and meet at least 5 times, and one had to be social.

I ended up with a moderately cute skinny blond, "Lisa". The first time we met for coffee, the 2nd time at the library, the third time somewhere else. We were getting along fine, no problems, but really no spark either. The 4th time I offered to make dinner. Yes, on rare occasions I did actually make dinner in college.

So she came to my apartment and had dinner and started drinking wine- 2 bottles. Good stuff too, like $6.98 Kendall Jackson. We're getting pretty buzzed and just hanging out after dinner and all of a sudden she grabs me and starts kissing me. I wasn't that attracted to her, but whatever...it was research so I felt a responsibility to go along. Pretty soon we are almost naked in the middle of the living room.

I get up for a second to run to get a condom, and when I get back she was kind of slumped over and begins vomiting all over my living room floor. Not projectile, but still a lot. She then falls down backward passed out with puke remnants on her face and all over my carpet.

At that exact moment my two female housemates open up our downstairs front door. I am standing there with a rapidly shriveling hard on and a passed out vomit covered girl and scream to them to "stay the FUCK downstairs". I quickly drag her into my bedroom, and throw her face down on my bed while I grab some clothes and start to clean up the mess.

I clean up the pile of puke the best I can, and then head back into my bedroom, where she's still passed out, but added a new treat to the night- she took a huge shit all over herself. She's laying face down and sitting there on top of her ass cheeks is a giant turd. I just remember standing there looking at it, shacking my head in disbelief of how the night had turned out, while trying to hold in my own initial reaction to throw up as well, and how the fuck I was going to write about this in my paper.

It was probably about an hour or more before she came out of my bedroom. She was dressed, but she had just put on her pants without going to the bathroom or cleaning up, so she's standing there like a 13 month old with a giant crap in their diaper. I said, why don't you go in the bathroom and clean up before you go. She came back after about 5 minutes, and mumbled something about not having eaten all day, which given the size of the shit she dropped on my bed and the amount of vomit that was on my living room carpet, was pretty hard to believe.

She scuttled off home and I go into my room to see the most horrifying thing ever. There was shit everywhere. Not just a trail to the bathroom, but streaks on the wall, the light switch, the bathroom sink, my fucking stereo speakers. I would have rather faced a room full of terrorists than this. It took me two cans of Lysol and Comet to clean everything up and before I felt safe again. The entire bedspread and comforter went into a dumpster that night.

I came class at the last possible second the following day, and she immediately put her face in her hands and began turning red, never looking up the entire class. We skipped the final "meeting". Oh, and I got a fucking "D' on my paper.

That's what you get for breaching sociological ethics!