Sports News Without Fear, Favor or Compromise
Sports News Without Fear, Favor or Compromise
Illustration for article titled Cockblocked By Old Yeller. GREAT MOMENTS IN DRUNKEN HOOKUP FAILURE

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 was the end of the first semester of my Freshman year in college in the middle of winter. I remember the temperature was around 0 and there were a few feet of snow on the ground. I had just started drinking during my first semester and my tolerance was pure shit and Red Dog was my beer of choice.

I was at a party with my friends and met up with a girl that was in several of my art classes and if I remember correctly, she was about 95 pounds and had a head the size of a watermelon. We were flirting all night and decided after getting hammered that it was time to head back to my dorm room and fuck. So after stumbling a mile or two home through the snow, falling down drunk and making out in snow banks, we finally get back to my room.

We had no way to control the temperature of our rooms so it felt like we were in hell, so I opened up the window and turned on a fan to quickly cool things down. We make out for a while, she gives me head then she decides that it's time to have sex. As soon as I put it in her I decide that seeing that we're both sweating that I will cool things off more and make things sexy by dumping a bottle of water over each of us (as seen in the movie Youngblood). This probably wasn't the best idea.

I completely blacked out from there, probably lasted about 4 or 5 pumps and passed out. I woke up in the morning, curled up in a ball, completely naked except for a used condom on and with frost on the side of my bed. The girl had disappeared but left the fan going with the window open so I was now chattering and shivering uncontrollably. That left me with a fever of 104 and I missed two finals that resulted in an D in English and Statistics. Moral of the story, Fuck Youngblood and shitty Michigan winters...and Red Dog Beer.




I went to college in Minnesota and grew up here. In case you've never had the pleasure of laying eyes on the Land of 10,000 Lakes, everyone looks the same, talks the same and understands the same cultural references. One of these references is Mighty Ducks, which was filmed here and, due to our rabid fascination with hockey, still enjoys considerable popularity.

I'm in college and on winter break. I was living with a few other guys at the time and we all decide to go to a house party. This particular one happened to be a "wop party", meaning that the hosts provide a very large cooler, Kool-Aid mix and ice and the guests bring bottles of alcohol to dump in it. Everyone is to imbibe from the communal punch and have a good time. I know, it doesn't sound like a good idea to drink what's in there for a variety of reasons. However you must remember that since everyone there is under the same preconceptions about the party, most everyone has a good time being dumb together.

We drink hard for quite a while and it starts to get late. The crowd is thinning out and my friends and I, who were at the time accustomed to being blackout drunk every weekend, were still hanging out. I start to get bored and decide to make whatever moves I could muster. I stumble over to the best looking group of girls I could find and start trying to make conversation. It's not going well. They're onto me instantly and a couple of the start trying to find ways to end the awkwardness. I vaguely remember one saying "Shouldn't you find your friends?" and, as if sent by god, my friend Kurt appears out of nowhere. We had discussed the need for female companionship on the way over so he knows what I'm up to. I introduce him and the conversation picks up briefly but dies about a minute later. It's time to go. I give him the signal and instead of heeding my wishes, he say to the girls, apropos of nothing, "You know this guy was in Mighty Ducks, right? The movie Mighty Ducks? Remember that one? Yeah he played Adam Banks."

I'm as stunned as they are, but I'm drunk enough to play along admirably as I do look somewhat like the actor that played that role. I started using the "I'm-quoting-a-movie" voice to say things that might have been in the movie but probably weren't. Kurt plays along and pantomimes a hockey goalie while I approximate a wrist shot. The girls won't know the difference, right? Right. This goes on for about 10 minutes and one of the girls in the group is interested and moves closer to me. She, like the rest of us, had been drinking out of the aforementioned "wop" all night and was clearly buying the story.

I don't remember the details exactly but somehow I end up walking with her to her house, which presumably was near the party but took a while to get to. We were joking about the Mighty Ducks thing the whole time—starting "quack...quack...quack..." chants by ourselves, opining that the "Flying V" would never work (again this is Minnesota). We arrive at her place in a drunken and horny stupor and start to make out a little in her living room. Things are going well and she says that she is going to go get us a drink and asks me to pick a movie.

I'm in. This is happening. No way to fuck it up. I hear glass clinking and figure I ought to get a move on with the movie. I am frantically searching for a boring RomCom in her massive DVD rack and there it is: a copy of Mighty Ducks. Shit—gotta get rid of it. So, drunk as I am, I think the best way to do that is to throw it somewhere. Unfortunately for me, my potential hookup has just turned the corner out of the kitchen and saw me toss the DVD case under her couch. "What was that?" "Ahh, nothing" "No come on, what was it?" "I don't know..."

She gives me a faux-exasperated, flirty look that intones that I may be up to something that she will eventually approve of, sticks her hand under the couch and grabs the DVD. I look at her in horror and she slowly realizes that the picture on the box does not match the hammered guy sitting in front of her. I say, suavely, "Uh oh". She is unimpressed and tells me that I ought to leave. I am in no position to disagree and walk home dejected and alone, thinking of what might have been. Never saw her again. Eff you, Disney.

Then just imagine the amount of trim that Vincent A. Larusso must get.

Poopy Pants:

A buddy of mine and I were at a four-day-long work convention one summer that has a history of being a darn good four-day-long party. That year the convention was in Boston, and we had made our accommodations late, which meant we were throwing another buddy some cash to crash at a dorm room he rented for the week at a college that had 2 bedrooms and a couch in a common room. One night we head out to the parties that followed the day's business, and I run into a cutie I had worked with the year before. We drink, catch up, drink some more, dance, drink some more, and I finally toss it out there - lets go back to my place? She thinks thats a great idea.

We hop a cab that gets us to the campus, and then have another couple hundred yards to walk until the dorm. Had I been staying in a hotel, cab would have landed curbside, we'd enter the lobby, elevator, bedroom, clothes off. But no, we have a couple hundred yards of a college campus to walk until the dorm. The time this distance creates reminds her to call her roommate back home to check in on her dog. I'm not really paying attention to the conversation until she stops walking, stands still, says "What?, no, no" and then starts crying. Turns out her dog had been missing for 2 days. I hear this, and being a huge dog person myself, feel awful for the poor girl and put my arm around her - and being an insensitive dick, try to continue our walk back. She's still on the phone, crying, asking questions, telling her roommate how awful she is for keeping her in the dark.

Finally we are upstairs, she's off the phone, and with nobody home I lay claim to one of the bedrooms. She sits on the bed, I put my arm around her still thinking maybe she needs me to Billy-Bob Thornton her Halle Berry pain. No, she doesn't. She just keeps crying and telling me about her dog, and I try to offer her words of encouragement and that I'm sure he's fine. No sex is had. No Next morning she takes off and I go into the living room where my buddy just looks at me and starts laughing. He had come home, saw the door shut, thought I was getting laid, then heard crying so decided to eavesdrop. "Made my night," he tells me. Dick. Oh, and the dog died.


Serves it right.


Guys trip to Vegas earlier this year, about 12 guys, very solid crew. End up at Tao. A few of us end up by the upstairs pool area where we find a bachelorette party. Things are going well until our bachelor starts dancing with their bachelorette, whose hair somehow gets caught in his cufflink. After a loud "OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW" from her, they free her and race to the ladies' room for damage control and repairs.

Meanwhile I'd been chatting with one of the bachelorette's friends while my buddy was chatting with the bachelorette's sister (who said she was 21 - looked younger), who was giving me some attitude until I responded in kind. She seemed to warm up to the idea of doing several shots. Eventually word came back that the bachelorette wanted to go back to their hotel to regroup and fix her hair. My girl asks if I want to head back with them. Hells yes I do. My buddy tries to pull the same thing with bachelorette's sister - not interested.

So I end up waiting for a cab with my girl and about 10 other girls on this bachelorette party. To my surprise, rather than cockblock me, they made sure I got in a cab with my girl so we wouldn't be split up. Thanks, ladies. We get back to their hotel where she and I decide to have a drink at the bar while the other girls tend to the bachelorette.

We have a few more drinks, things are going great...until she falls backward off the barstool onto her ass. It was funny, she wasn't hurt, we both laughed. Not laughing was security who IMMEDIATELY (I mean, within 5 seconds) swooped in, ordered her back to her room, and then interrogated me like I was a suspect.


"Uhh, no, I'm just hanging out with my friend whatshername over here, it's cool"


"Aww, c'mon, we're fine, nothing to worry about."


She made a sad face as she was escorted to her room. I head back to Tao and then back to our hotel a while later where I find a few of the other boys from our crew at a blackjack table (at about 5 AM). I ask one of them how his night was.

"It was going great, for a while. I picked up the cute younger sister of this bachelorette as she was leaving Tao, she invites me back to her hotel room, we're going at it...all of a sudden security shows up with this other girl who drunkenly fell off a chair or something, I guess they were sharing a room, they make me get dressed and kick me out, so I came back here. What about you, man, anything good?"

So not only did this girl falling off her chair mean that I got no action, it inadvertently meant that my buddy (who had managed to pick up the hot sister that had rejected one of our other guys earlier) also got none because my girl and his girl were crashing together.

I did make over 2 grand at the blackjack table though...not a total loss.

Holy Jesus, rent-a-cops are awful. Seriously, if you're a rent-a-cop, I hope you die.

Share This Story

Get our newsletter