5 Feb

Let’s cut right to the chase here. I spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and consequently Monday night (due to the ferocious blizzard hindering my ability to leave in my shit ass car) in Ames, partying with the likes of Kelli, Kayla, Kehly, Jeremy, R-Grandy, Rich, Jamie, and some other people. Now, there are several accounts of me claiming to be the “drunkest I’ve ever been,” but this weekend, literally all three nights of it, are in fact the drunkest nights in history for me. Let’s begin.

I awake Saturday morning covered in bruises, scrapes, scratches, and cuts, but most troubling, my cell phone was MIA. Moments later, I get up. Kelli comes in and says, “Did we get our asses beat last night?”

Seconds after that, Rich calls Katie’s phone. “Becca, did I get the shit beat out of me last night? I think my nose is broken. I’m covered in blood and I have two giant goose eggs on my head.”

The answer is yes, to both accounts.

Eye witnesses report that on our way into the party that night, Kelli and I slipped on the snow and ice and fell on each other, which we thought was very funny. Some blonde hoosier outside made some faggy comments about our incident, which we ignored and proceeded into the party. Apparently a little later that night, Dumb Blonde Bitch was standing near the keg pointing at Kelli and I in the kitchen saying things along the lines of, “Oh mah gawd, those are the two dumb whores that fell outside. Look, they still even have their coats on, stupid asses.” Kelli overhears these rude comments and mistakenly tells me about them where apparently I violently confronted the bitch and we took it outside.

Katie reports that Scuzzy Ass Hoe stumbles back into the house yelling, “That bitch punched me in the faaaace!” She then heard a man yell, “This bitch needs to leave!” and seeing me outside flailing around in a violent manner. Theoretically, I started the fight, and Kelli had my back. After noticing I was in a pickle, Richard (drunk as TITS, by the way) ran out to help. All I know is that it was like 15 people against Kelli, Richard and I, and we got our asses beat. Hard. I sort of recall being pushed into the snow a hundred times, and being really irritated about it, but nothing about the fight specifically. Richard remembers laying in the snow yelling, “What the fuuuuuuuuuuck!!!” Later that night, after returning to the apartment, I spotted a black man at the bottom of the stairs. I proceeded to yell “BLACKYYYYYYYYY!!!!” at him, and charged at him full speed. Why am I still living?

I have literally zero recollection of the brawl. Kelli vaguely remembers. Bobby Burclaw apparently found Richard passed out in a snowbank on Campus St., and brought him back to Katie’s where, at 4:30 a.m., he apparently got up and ran back to his dorm, thinking he fell down the stairs or something earlier because he was bloody and his nose felt broken. Kelli woke up with a giant ass bruise on her hip, and several on her badonky. I later discovered a GIANT scrape across my lower back. It’s the size of a text book. I also have a nice bruise on my knee and elbow, and scraped knuckles. We could not have been more proud.

Except I lost my phone. I was phone-less all weekend. Luckily I have insurance and I only have to pay $50 to get a new one. WHEW.

Sunday night was bad also. Seven of us partook in Edward 40 Hands, and I truly underestimated how drunk it would make me. Plus Kelli and I pounded shots of Hawkeye immediately after, where I passed out in a swivel chair in the middle of the kitchen and got sexually assaulted by my friends. Later, we leave to go to a party where apparently we caused a musical riot on a bus that was NOT the drunk bus. No memory. We went to a party, and I got molested by a 50 year old man dubbed “Homeless Hunter” by Kelli, because he appeared homeless and was wearing a skank ass camouflage hunting hat.

Eventually Kayla, Kehly and I leave for Taco Bell. Apparently I sprinted ahead of the group and broke into Taco Bell (which was closed), and just sat at a table. An employee mopping the floor tried to tell me I had to leave because only the drive thru was open, but I ignored her. Kayla convinced them just to let me order because I was a fucking drunk ass, and I do. Meanwhile, Kayla and Kehly go across the street to get Flying Burrito, assuming I would be able to meet them in the parking lot.

Not so.

They exit Flying Burrito to see me with my sack of Taco Bell, talking to a cop in a cop car who had been responding to an accident on the corner. I told him I was drunk, and then moved on to the people involved in the accident and invited them back to the apartment to party. They actually come, and Kayla locks them out. Smart move.

I died.

Anyway, we have literally 500 photos to document the weekend between all of us. This weekend, Richie gets his breathalizer. We’re perishing.

“I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T, do you know what that mean? INDEPENDENT!”


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