Do NOT Put Aqua Velva On Your Genitals

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


My sophmore year of college and the semester just starts. I have an easy intro class with my roommate and his friend "Lisa". A couple of weeks go by in the semester and Lisa and I have been been flirting since day one. She would also come by our place to study and the flirting would follow.

One day in class Lisa doesn't show up for whatever reason and my roommate tells me that he's talked to Lisa and she is into me and that we should throw a party this weekend and have her and her some other people over and see what happens. I think this is a good idea. That night my roommate and I are drinking beers and talking about Lisa and he blurts out that she isn't a fan of fur on the twig and berries. Dumbfounded I ask how he knows this and he says they talk about that stuff, go figure. He says every guys she's hooked up with she's asked that they clear the brush so to speak before relations commence. Now I am drunk and have never done this before but I think that if this is what she wants that I should probably get on it since it's almost the weekend.

So the day of the party after class I decide to buy everything I need. Seeing I don't have a car I had to go to the local mart on campus and purchase the neccesary tools to take care of business. New razor, shaving cream, and a cheap knockoff aftershave. Why at this moment I decided it would be good to use aftershave I will never know. One of those if I knew what I know now moments. But I buy it anyway and head back to my apartment to get the festivities underway. I arrive and Lisa is there with my roommate a couple hours before the party bringing booze over so she doesn't have to later. I help her load up some beer from her car and we're talking about the party that night and she says she can't wait to get me drunk and see where things go from there. I reiterate that same sentiment to her and she smiles and says "good". As she leaves she pulls me in and gives me a kiss and says that she will see me later tonight.

Now I am super excited and can't wait for the party to start. This is where it gets bad. I go into my bathroom and start to figure out how to go about this and where the hell to start. So I jump in the shower and and start getting work done and it's not as bad as I thought it would be taking care of everything. I jump out of the shower, dry off, and stand in the mirror feeling like a porn star. I then pour some aftershavein my hands and slap it on and the tears start flowing. It burns...bad. I jump back in the shower and run cold water on my boys which only dulls the pain a little bit. I get out and stand in front of my fan for about 20 minutes and it feels like fire ants attacking my crotch still. I throw some clothes on and hope the pain goes away by the time the party starts.

Fast forward to the party I am a beers deep trying to dull this pain more. Lisa and I are talking/making out and all I can think about it my underware scraping against my junk and it feels like barbwire shredding into my skin. We're both getting drunk and she suggest that we go to my room. Now I am thinking/hoping this can go down somehow but I have no idea how I am going to get thru the sex. But my other head thinks we can make this happen. We go into my room and she's on top and clothes are coming off. She pulls my pants down and lets out a shreik only heard in horror films. She yells "what the hell?" and I look and run to the bathroom to find what I can only explain as a blistering effect down there.

She asks me what the hell it is and I explain to her what happened and go into detail and she starts laughing. I thought at this moment my roommate had played a pretty good joke on me but not the case. Turns out she does like it bare but had never experienced the evil that I had put upon myself. Needless to say we didn't hook up that night, we went back out to the party and I drank until I couldn't feel feelings. Never again will I clear the brush for any woman.


Did no one heed Eddie Murphy's warning about cologne or aftershave on your penis? "Baby, why'd you put your dick in the sink?"


In 2006, I had a simple little job working the Garden Center at Target. Typical of most Garden Centers, there was an outdoor stockroom in the back, separate from the in-store stockroom, behind a large chainlink fence where boxes and other supplies were kept.

While at the store, I developed a good relationship with everyone, including a fiery little redhead named Trish. After a few months working together, Trish and I started to get physical ... while on the clock. We would go in the stockroom every few days upon having the same shift and fool around when the place was empty (or near empty), typically using boxes and furniture as needed. The first time we did anything the place was even packed; shopping carts heard passing by as I boldly propositioned we start making out on some cushions. But one time, when it was just the two of us, Trish was crouched under a shelf in the stockroom ready to give me head. She was a little nervous, voicing concern that she got the feeling someone would come out there any minute and call for help, or worse, walk into the stockroom and spot us. Typical for a guy, I convinced her not to worry about it, we'll be quick. She opens her mouth, and I'm half hard. She wets her lips, and I'm ready, staring.

Just as she goes for it, a voice comes, over the walkie-talkie sitting on the shelf above Trish: "Garden Center? Is there anybody in Garden Center?" Trish's eyes light up as she ducks further back under the shelf, with a timid yelp. I have the total opposite reaction: I just stand there, eyes half open and mouth dropped ... a look best described as "are you fucking kidding me?". I pick up the walkie-talkie and respond, zipping up my fly in the process. "Yes, I'm here", I said, "Just taking care of something in the back." As I walk out from the stockroom, towards the front by our cash registers, an employee stands with a customer, your everyday soccer mom, arms folded as if miffed to be waiting for me. As expected, it was reported nobody was on duty in the Garden Center.

With a smile, I apologize. "Sorry about that, ma'am! I'm the only one out here right now, they don't staff very well", I explain, as I ring the soccer mom up for some supplies and the other employee goes back indoors. The woman seems understanding and believes my excuse. That is, until Trish emerges from the stockroom, and walks up to the register to retrieve her cell phone. "I have to go, I'm off", she says, "sorry for the blue balls". She snickers and leaves with her phone. I don't even have to look at the customer directly to feel a piercing, tight-lip glare via my peripheral vision. With a smile, I hand the woman her receipt: "have a nice day." She leaves, Trish has left, and I remain, cock-blocked.

Trish was transferred inside not long after that. The antics effectively ended and nothing was taken outside of work. After she quit but before she moved out of town, she managed to get drunk at a party and tell a bunch of former co-workers what happened. I endured many strange glares from around the store for the rest of my time there.


I was back from University for the winter break and went to the local watering hole with a few buddies from high school. One of my best friends' girlfriends was there with some of her friends. I had broken up with my high school girl friend the week after
getting home for summer break the previous summer and had not gotten much action in the months since.

I start hitting it off with one of the friends when my buddy's girl takes me aside and warns me to stay away from this girl. Immediate turn-on right? So I ask why. She says she is really loose and been with a lot of guys. I'm thinking "so?" and she goes on to say she found comfort from random men. I am a random guy so fuck it right? I go for it.

Things are going really good and to this day it is the only girl that let me put my hands down her pants at the bar. I am thinking JACKPOT! I get the second warning from my buddy's girl but blow her off cuz fuck it right? Getting action is getting action and this girl was pretty hot.

So at the end of the night, she asks me back to her place and off we go. We get to her place at around 3am and she tells me to be quiet in her house because her family may wake up. Yeah that's right, she brought me back to her parents house. I could care less as I was very drunk and had been looking forward to the easy slam dunk all night. As soon as we walk through the door, her grandfather, asleep on the couch wakes up and starts throwing a fit about what time she is getting home. Her mom comes down and the argument is on.
I slip out the door quietly and realize that I had 50 cents in my pocket so I am walking home. I live in Canada and in the winter it is really really cold and I had no jacket, because I was in the bar all night and had a ride home. It took me 2.5 hours to walk home, while getting frostbite and near hypothermia. At 5:30 I walk through the door to see my dad just getting up and he says to me " Change your clothes we are going to visit your grandmother".

So to summarize, no action, 2.5 hour drunken walk, frostbite, and now, a visit to Grandma's. WORST. NIGHT. EVER.


Why didn't you have a jacket? YOU'RE IN CANADA.

Max Power:

Being a resident of NW DC, I typically stick to going out in only NW DC and have shown an uncanny ability to stumble my way home no matter how blackout drunk I've gotten. Last year my friend who works on Capitol Hill invited me to a house party up in that direction, where he promised that there would be plenty of cute Hill staffers in attendance. I was game. I show up fashionably late, and my friend being an excellent wingman, has already talked me up to one of the interns that he works with.

We hit it off well, she is gorgeously cute and really seems into me (surprise!). After a while decided to hit up the party's beer pong table. As soon as we get on, she turns to me (already a bit handsy at this point) and goes, "Hey, I have a great idea, instead of using beer lets use boxed wine instead!" The way that things were progressing, I probably would have played with turpentine if she asked like that. Boxed wine it is.

We make an awesome team. So good, that we end up playing for some 8-10 games as no one could knock us off. While my game (both in pong and with the girl) was in full swing in the beginning, near the end I am so shitfaced from the wine that I can barely stand up much less do anything else. Somehow the girl was not nearly as drunk as I was, and became disinterested since I was not nearly as witty and charming as I once was. I also suspect she was not drinking her equal share of wine (that wench). After making a few more feeble passes at her, I realize that I had blown my chance and decide to cut my losses.

Several of my buddies who had accompanied me to the party had gotten bored and decided to head to the bar down the street. It is literally down the street. Note: there are no shortcuts as it is a straight walk down the street.

I leave the house party feeling somewhat defeated, but determined to go meet up with my friends and continue to the night. I decide to take a shortcut (I have shortcut my way through life). Next thing I know, I am completely lost in NE DC, which to me looked exactly the same. I call my friends and they are no help because, A. they are already drunk themselves and B. I probably did a terrible job of telling them where I was.

After about an hour of wandering in the labyrinth that is NE/SE DC, I am shitfaced, tired, hungry, and thirsty. The cabs that do see me have no interest in picking up one stumbling drunk guy. I sit down on the side of the road, with no clue what to do except probably pass out right there. A couple minutes later, a middle-aged guy pulls up in a black Mercedes convertible. "Hey buddy, need a ride home?" he asks. Now if theres anything my momma ever taught me, its not to take rides from strangers. I mumble to him that I'm good, and get up to attempt to walk away and prove that I'm ok. I make it maybe 15 yards before I am exhausted from my journey and sit down again. Car pulls up again. "No really buddy, I'll give you a ride." I am so drunk and tired at this point that I say fuck it. Plus, if he pulls any shenanigans I can just jump out of the convertible like a ninja!

True to his word, this completely random stranger drove me home in his very nice Mercedes. I sat there hiccupping the whole time. As far as I know, he did not insert anything of his into any orifices of mine. While I didn't get the action that I was hoping to get that night, some kind person saved me from getting any kind of unwanted action that definitely would have occurred had I passed out in the street that night. God bless him. And fuck boxed wine.


Kind of heartwarming!