Adventures In Pant Stuffing!

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Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase five heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Got one of your own? Share it with me. Off we go.


Second year of college I head to toga party at a different frat from mine but one where I'm comfortable. Under my toga, I'm in only a speedo that I've stuffed with pool balls and a sock. Party is great, I start talking to some chick who I kind of know and she's trying to ditch another dude so she's asked me to do the "pretend to be with me" move to get him to leave her alone. This works impeccably in bagging me, not that I needed any moves on her part, but it filled me with confidence that I knew I was going to get this thing done.

We start dancing and get all grindy and whatnot. Now mind you, throughout our akward-white-sloppy-grinding moves, the pool balls and sock are the items rubbing up against her, not my own tiny package. In my head, she's thinking I large and in charge down there as we rub our nether regions on each other for half the night. In reality, she probably hardly even noticed as we were both near black out. Nonetheless, it was on my mind.

So, we take off to go to her place, I say I'm gonna step behind a bush to piss, and it is there I will discard the pool balls and sock. But she says "why would you do that, I live right here," and I could not come up with another reason I needed to take care of peeing that quickly so I just went along with her up to her place. We sit down the common room for a spell, and I am scrambling thinking this is gonna be like the scene in Animal House where he finds her bra is stuffed. So, I go to the downstairs bathroom that is really just a sink and toilet and the sink has no cabinet underneeth it, thus, nowhere to stash my crotch stuffing items. So, I'm taking forever in there trying to figure out what to do with them and finally, I just stash then behind the toilet, despite them still being visable and not to mention, these things stink, like, well, they stink like sweaty balls, I'd go so far as to say, they smelled exactly like if a dude had been collecting his ball sweat for hours of liquored up dancing.

Anyway, I close to the door and move on, without the burden of my faux package and think I am good to fucking go here. Lady friend is cold passed out on the couch. I work and work at getting her up, barely making it happen, but I get her to head up to her room. But even in there, she's just comatose and this thing ain't happening, because I'm not Jerramy Stevens, so I decide to take off. I step out of her front door and as I hear it shut and lock behind me, I remember that I had left the evidence behind that toilet. So, some lucky girl in the apartment was going to have the pleasure of discovering scrotum sweat infused socks and pool balls on her Saturday morning. Oh, and the near mile walk home in just a sheet and a toga and birkenstocks was a delight, especially since it was woven in and out of a 10K that I knew many of the participants of.



Last February my wife and I were slowly getting lit one night and teasing each other with plans for later on once we knew the kids were asleep for the night. This kept going for a while as neither child seemed to want to stay in bed, which also allowed the drinking to move from a pleasant buzz to a pair of fairly hammered people.

Finally, at close to midnight it appeared that all was quiet, so my wife suggested I go up and check on them one more time, shut their doors, and then go get our bedroom ready before coming down to get her. Of course when I did so my daughter started fussing and then had to go to the bathroom. Once that task was done I went into our bedroom and pulled out some toys and lingerie in anticipation of some inebriated carnal revelry.

When I went back downstairs I discovered, to my chagrin, that my wife was focusing on the TV with drunken intensity and ignoring me. I sat down next to her, hoping to see porn . . . and instead discovered she was watching curling. I reached for the remote and told her upstairs was all ready, and she shushed me and told me we could go at it after this match was over. I quickly discovered it was the 2nd end and that I wasn't getting any action soon.

She passed out somewhere around the 7th end. Fucking 'Chess on Ice.'

Curling? Really? Jesus.


My freshman year of college, I was dating a girl who I was a year younger than me. She still lived in the suburbs, while I was at school in the city. One afternoon, came into the city to meet me for dinner and hopefully a little action later. She parked her car at a subway station just outside the city and took the train in. Fast forward a few hours,
we've had dinner and are ready to get it on. The only problem is that my roommate is cramming for a test and I can't get him to leave. After dozens of futile attempts, my girl and I decide we're going to be the ones to leave. I have my car on campus, so I came up with the genius idea to drive to a secluded area and have some fun in the car. She's down with
that so we head off.

We ended up finding a spot in a little park, but because it was raining, we moved to the back seat and it was go time. Being the romantic that I am, I thought it would be a great idea to turn the engine off, but leave the battery on so we could listen to some romantic music (which I'm pretty sure it was Dave Matthews...). So we're in the back seat making out, her top comes off, and I'm just about to unhook her bra when a light streams into the car. Yup, cockblocked by the cops. So the cops do their cop thing, tell her to get dressed and tell
us to get out of there. We both hop back into the front seats, when I go to turn the engine on, it won't start.

Fucking Dave Matthews killed my battery.

Well the cops are still there, waiting for us to leave, so I open the door and explain the situation to them. The cop in the drivers seat flashes a huge grin and says "Yup, that'll happen when you leave the key in", and drives out of the fucking lot, leaving us stranded. We ended up having to walk 2 miles in the rain to the nearest subway station, take the
train to her car, and then go back and jump my car. Needless to say, I didn't get any that night. And my roommate always wondered who 'accidentally' spilled a beer on his computer.


Cops are horrible people.


It was a Saturday night and I was going out with my roommates Amanda, Steph and some friends. Steph had three female friends from Texas visiting and since she has hooked up with my friends, I figured it was only fair for me to hook up with hers. Fast forward to the bar, we are out with the five girls and meet up with some of my buddies including my neighbor Dane and his cute sister Brittany. Now while I am trying to hit on my roommate's friend "Lizzy", Brittany is all over me, which slightly confused me since she is really hot. So as I flip flop between the two I cannot decide which one to make the move on, my neighbor's sister (Brittany) or the girl from Texas (Lizzy).

I ended up going for Texas and it was a great move. At the bar we were making out (in front of my ex no less) and it was a great time. After the bars close we go back to our condos for more booze and games. While outside with a stogie, my ex texts me and just plain pisses me off. So I did what any pure blooded American would do, I kicked something.

Except I kicked a snow bank while standing on black ice.

This led me to falling down onto my leg, spraining my knee, spraining my ankle and chipping a bone in my foot. Now Brittany was outside and runs over to me asking if I am ok but even with the power of booze on my side I could tell that my leg was really fucked up. I even remember yelling "Fuck it really hurts". Brittany offers to bring me inside and make me "feel better all over". In my drunken stupor I refuse Brittany stating my leg hurt. With a look of confusion she again repeated, "Ben, let me take you inside and you will feel better ALL OVER"… but again I say "no my fucking leg hurts." To further rub salt in the wound it turns out Lizzy also went looking for me but my phone died and I somehow locked my door… So if you are keeping track I not only lost out on one sure thing but two sure things.



So it is senior year up at school at a popular state college. Me and a buddy hit up one of the local college bars late night to see if we can pull some stragglers out of the bar and take them to our nearby off-campus house. Within a few minutes I lock eyes with a decent looking younger student. Me being the baller that I am, I send her and her friend a couple of $2 sex on the beach shots. She accepts with a smile and comes walking my way shortly after. I can tell that she was already pretty shit-faced, and was looking to do more shots. She suggests tequila. I am not a big fan of tequila, but I assume any girl who is openly suggesting taking tequila shots, if also openly suggesting me taking her home at some point. Four shots later, I figure we should move this party back to my house. Her being a freshman, and therefore living a few miles away from the bar at the dorms on campus, is interested in the convenient sleeping arrangements.

Upon arriving at my house, we head right to my room. We make it down to undergarments, when she decides she needs to use the facilities. I am pretty hammered, so I pass out shortly after she leaves my room. I come to about an hour later alone in my bed half naked. I vaguely remember bringing home a girl, but she is nowhere to be found. I get up to use the bathroom myself, and find her there sitting on the toilet hunched over with her panties around her ankles. This is disturbing to say the least. I am a pretty decent human being, or at least I think I am, but let me tell you what thoughts were racing through my head - "Oh my god she's dead... I'm going to have to find a dumpster to put her in or something... they are going to think I did this to her... what is the age of consent in this state... who saw me with her tonight... my DNA is probably all over her.. even if she's not dead I might be on the hook for some form of rape.... my life is over". I was having a panic attack. I hurried to my roommates room down the hall and woke him up. I brought him to the scene of the crime, and his response "not my problem" as he heads right back to bed. Accomplice or not, that is a shitty friend.

I was too scared to even lay a finger on her. I passed my hand under her nose for vitals, she was breathing, I can scratch murderer off my list of potential charges. I was tempted to go fish her cell phone out of her bag and call the last few numbers to see if I could find a friend to pick her up, but I was too scared that this could only confirm me as a suspect to whatever crimes took place. I spent the next 4 hours sitting in my living room hoping she would come to on her own and end this nightmare. Somehow I manage to fall asleep for a bit and woke up at about 8am. I checked the bathroom, she wasn't there. I check my room, I find her sleeping like a newborn. I go to wake her up to make sure everything is alright. She wakes up, I explain last night's episodes, and she finds it to be hysterical, and mentions "that happens to me a lot". Needless to say I didn't find the situation as amusing as she did. I quickly dropped her off on campus and had her rehearse what took place the night before so I could sleep easy at night.


Those gals are always the most fun.

Art by Jim Cooke