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

The DHF archives are exhausted again this week, so if you've got a decent DHF story that ends with you shamed and humiliated, send it on in.


Last week, me and a couple friends go on vacation to Myrtle Beach. We go out our second night there after going through two or three bottles of wine at dinner and head over to the Broadway area to keep the night going. As I go up to the bar I meet this girl who was living there for the summer. She's very cute while her friend looks like Moby Dick put on bad lipstick, bad tattoos, and got beached along the shore.

As time goes on we start making out a little bit at the bar and keep knocking back shots. We march over to another bar in the area. By this point finger-banging has commenced and she tugged off buttons on my shirt and we begin talking about how she'll bring me home in ten minutes. Then everything goes to shit.

Within two minutes of being at the new place we walked into, she says she'll "be right back" and sprints away to some guy in an Affliction shirt and mardi gras beads. I have no idea who the guy is but he looks strangely familiar.

When the girl came back to me she says, "I gotta go." I ask who the guy is. She says "That's just Tyler. He texts me all the time and says he wants fuck me like crazy... but I'm NOT that kind of girl." After Googling it on my phone, it was indeed Coastal Carolina/locked out/Miami Dolphins mediocre quarterback Tyler Thigpen. I invite her back to my hotel. She says no, but maybe some other time. She then runs off again, and from about 50 yards out ten minutes later in the parking lot, I see her reaching second base with Tyler Thigpen.

I blame it all on the lockout. Thanks a lot Goodell, selfish prick.


I'd been dating Gwen for the two months since I'd finished grad school and gotten my useless degree. She had already planned a trip to Spain and asked me to join her. As her roommate lived in Madrid we had a place to crash, and one weekend we took the train to Sevilla and rented a room in what looked like a decent bed and breakfast. We go out and and get nice and buzzed, then head back to the room. Things are moving along and she's lying face down on the bed with a couple of pillows under her stomach while I go down on her from behind. It's an angle she seems to love and she's moaning and screaming as if I actually know what I'm doing. She's starting to growl just filthy things and I'm figuring pretty soon things are going to get very interesting.

Then she giggles.

I hear it and have no idea why, but continue concentrating on doing what I'm doing. Then she giggles again and says, "Stop! That tickles my back!"

I'm about to ignore this as well when I realize that my hands, the only parts of me touching her aside from my face/mouth/tongue, are on her hips. Nowhere near her back. I lift my head up to see what she's talking about, right about the same time she twists her head around to tell me to stop tickling her. At the same time we see it wasn't me but an absolutely fucking enormous cockroach walking across her back. She screamed like a fire siren and jumped out of bed, sending the thing flying. She continued yelling all the way to the bathroom. I eventually found and killed the thing but she was a nervous wreck for the rest of the night and pretty much the rest of the trip as well. Stupid cockroach.



"Kenneth Cole":

So it was a random Thursday night my sophomore year in college and my fraternity decided to purchase another handle of Kentucky Deluxe to add to our collection of empty Kentucky Deluxe bottles and just get shitty. After taking a few shots and sipping on a few whiskey and cokes, I gained enough liquid courage to text a good looking freshman in one of my classes to come hang out. She surprisingly said sure and 30 minutes later she was knocking on our door.

Upon her arrival, I asked her if she would like anything to drink and she turned down my offer but countered me with "I will take a shot with you though." She then reaches in her purse and whips out a plastic pop out shot glass. Once seeing this, my friends all jumped up and were ready to compete for this girl seeing as she was ready to party. I start pouring shots for everybody and she asks me if I have any chasers. Being in college and having nothing in my fridge besides a water filter and expired food products I knew all we had was coke for the whiskey.

I handed her the coke and she says to me "umm I don't drink coke but do you have any DIET coke?" I was like what the hell? One tiny shot of coke will not add 30 pounds to your ass. After I tell her we have no damn DIET coke she says "fuck it I will do it straight," and downs it like a champ. I immediately know this is not going to be good later on but that for sure does not stop me from trying to hook up with her. This girl starts taking a shot like every 10 minutes with nothing else to drink but straight Whiskey. By the end of the night she is stumbling and starts pulling me to my room. I was pretty drunk at this point and was more than excited what was about to go down. After a few minutes of making out on the bed the girl freaks out and starts vomiting all over my bed. I jump up and run outside and right before passing out on my bed she yells "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST HAVE SOME DAMN DIET COKE!"

A month later she was slutting it up around campus and handing out tug jobs to anybody that had Diet Coke on them.


And for Coke Zero, she'll role play.