The reason why i quit drinking captain morgan
Occurred Aug. 2009
Written Oct. 2010
Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. Everybody has drank it and have had their own ways of outcome when they tend to take a shot or two too many. Some better than other but some terrible worse than everyone; that would fall more in lines with myself. Beer I can drink until the world ends but once I hit the hard liquor it rushes to my head and I go insane with no brain. How so? Many ways on which I will never understand…
As any other night with the random group of friends I would be with we would start it off with nothing better than alcohol. It was Zander, My little Sister Anne, This weird kid Somogyi, and I. Zander is a pretty cool kid, Anne is my crazy little drunk sister, and Somogyi is…well this kid has some sort of problem. He says/does the weirdest shit but you can’t help but laugh. So he is fun to be around and is that kid you can always chill with. That’s if you can put up with him. It’s around 8pm and we stop at the 7-11 for Somogyi to fill up his slurpee cup. This cup could probably hold up to a gallon. I don’t know why the fuck anyone would need A GALLON ON ANTHING! Unless you’re poor or it’s alcohol (Even though this kid got kicked out of his house and is living in his friend’s shed.) But after we get a gallon cup filled of slurpee for this 5 year old we go to the liquor store and for some reason I feel like drinking hard alcohol. I normally drink beer but from now on after that night I only drink beer. We get to the liquor store and debate on what we want to get. I say Captain Morgan and everyone agrees. My little sister goes in to get the handle. Yes my little sister buys me alcohol. I don’t care who gets it along as I get drunk. We get the handle and time for shots. We start driving around and I start doing shots in the back seat with Somogyi. We were passing the handle back and forth like we were playing hot potato and then chasing it with the slurpee. Getting a gallon filled with slupree wasn’t a bad an idea after all. We continue this for at least 15minutes and we knock out a decent amount out, I’m not drunk or buzzing, Time for more shots. As anyone would guess, it’s a bad idea, but not for Porch McDonagh, not the Irish drinking champ with an iron liver. As I thought anyway, I step it up to double shots. I do as much straight as I can so I can get drunk. (One of my many bad habits) If I thought it out any little bit everything would be fine. But stupid decisions lead to good stories so why not right? Zander calls this girl Molly asking if we can go drink at her house. Boom boom pow and we get a house to drink at! We get to her house and make our way to the basement. I sit down on the couch and I AM STILL SOBER! What the fuck? Are you kidding me? I guess you know what that mean.
Zander: “Yo Porch you want to drive my car home because I want to drink”
Porch: “Yeah man no problem!”
Anne looks at me with the look that says “You are probably the dumbest fucking idiot out there.” I look at the handle and go drinking again while Molly goes upstairs and gets us cups and coke for a chaser. Perfect, I get my glass and start making mix drinks! Once you mix the alcohol with a chaser the alcohol content isn’t as strong so I decide to start chugging my glass so I can get fucked up quicker. Instantly Anne demands the keys from me which was probably the best idea. I don’t really care so I throw them over and continued chugging my Captain and Coke. Sweet drunkenness is on the way! In the mist of all of this I make a phone call to one of my buddies Ives.
Porch:”IVES!!!! LET’S GET FUCKING DRUNK”
Ives: “Fuck yeah dude, come over to Pork’s.”
Porch: “Hell yeah I’m on my way.”
I chug a few more glasses and we head off. It’s Zander, Anne, and I walking out the door. Then INSTANT BLACK OUT! Yes when you do shot’s fast it will kick u in the ass! My last clear memory was getting in the car and Anne was driving me to pork’s I guess.
[BLACK OUT]
I un-black out and I see four angry cops yelling at me threaten to tase me. I had my hands on the right side of my head and I was leaned over to the right. As I get figure out where I am I start asking questions.
Cop2:”STOP HITTING YOURSELF!!!!!”
Cop1: “GIMME YOUR HANDS!”
Porch: “What the fuck happened?”
Cop1: “You were knocking on some 83year old women’s door.”
Porch: “That’s it?”
I black out again after that and I don’t know what happened for the rest of that night. I wake up in jail cell barley remembering what happened or why I was there? I am trying to put two and two together but it was all hopeless. Was I car hopping again? What the fuck happened? I noticed that my hands hurt so bad from the hand cuffs and my right shoulder was sore with scraps all over it. I’m thinking to myself wondering what the fuck happened? What could I have possible have done last night? Then I remember that that Cop1 told me I was knocking on some 83 years old woman’s door? Wow, fuck theses cops. It was the morning I was assuming because some cop came over to me with orange juice and a bagel from Dunken Donuts. Bagel sucked mad donkey dick, I didn’t even eat it. A little while later I got to talk to the investigators. There were two of them trying to find out what happened last night. I didn’t even fucking know what happened.
Investigator1: “What happened last night?”
Porch: “I have no idea.”
Investigator2:”Where did you get the alcohol from?”
Porch: “I don’t remember.”
Investigator1: “who were you with?”
Porch: “I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t even know why I’m here”
Investigator2: “You hit a police officer”
Porch: “Ah fuck. You’re not serious?”
Investigator1: “Yeah we are. So you don’t remember anything?”
Porch: “Nothing.”
They quickly gave up since I couldn’t even give them any information. After that I went to the Rolling Meadows Court House jail cells. It was the smelliest ole rotten place. Blacks and Mexicans everywhere and of course when I asked what they did it wasn’t their fault. I sit down in my cell waiting from about 11:30am to 3:00pm. Throughout that time I sat in the cell with five other guys and they served us lunch; a shitty ole boloney sandwich with no butter or mayo. I was pissed. After the awkwardness left we all started talking a little bit. The chatting started off on why we are all in here. From domestic violence to DUI’s, but with every story there is another side to it.
Old Black Guy: “Oh man you iz one crazy white boy! I’m surprised dem cops didn’t tase or beat yo’ ass!”
Black Guy: “Oh shit fo’ real? What you do?”
Porch: “I don’t really remember but I remember them saying that I was knocking on some old lady’s door. I don’t think that’s it so probably for underage drinking but I figured I would just get a drinking ticket. I wonder what was I doing to piss them off so much?”
Old Black Guy: “Yeah you were cursin’ out the cops and what not! Fuck you, fuck, this, fuckin’ pigs! Fuck fuck fuck! Oh man dey hated you! Sure gave me my entertainment!”
Black Guy: “Dayum! Uz a lucky mudda fucka!”
Porch: “Ah shit man, are you serious?”
Old Black Guy: “Yeah man I couldn’t believe it!”
Porch: “Damn. What you in for?”
Old Black Guy: “Ah man it was me, my gurl, and her sista cruisn’. I was pretty drunk so I had my gurl drive my car. Her sista in da back started bitchin’ and den a da two of dem started bitchin. Next thang ya know we got in a car accident! N da bitch is blaming me!”
Porch: “Wait, what? That makes no sense; the driver is responsible for the driving!”
Black Guy: “You got fucked Jo’”
Old Black Guy: “You are tellin’ me! I fucked up my leg too!”
I can’t really remember what else happened until they put us upstairs for court. We waited in a holding cell until our names are called. They call my name and I walk into the court room and they talked about court bull shit. But when I walked in this was the first thing I heard:
Judge: “Martin McDonagh Born October 2nd 1980.”
Porch: “Wait I was born in 1990.”
Public Defender: “Shh, Being born in 1990 would make you a minor and they think you were born in 1980 so that would make you of age.”
Porch: “Oh alright for sure.”
Sweet, a freshmen in college and I look like I’m 30. A lot more bullshit goes on and I go back to the cell. I talk to my Public Defender and he tells me if I don’t get bailed out by 4 30pm I am going to cook county jail. My bail is set at $1000($100 to walk), I’m freaking out but on the other hand I get to say I have been to Cook County jail. Time rolls by and I get bailed out at 3 30pm! Close one! But I didn’t leave the court house until 4 30pm. When I left the court house they give me my possessions and of course my phone is lost. Wow thanks god. Cool.
We go back to my house and I go on Facebook. There I see what I really did. I couldn’t believe it!
Lauren: “Dude, you’re a fuckin’ asshole. What were you doing last night? You came running down my street, drunk as fuck, passed out on my neighbor’s car, destroyed another neighbor’s mailbox, got naked and ran into a tree? What the fuck? There are little old ladies that live around me and you scared the shit out of them. The police have your name and everything. You’re such a jag. Seriously man, what is wrong with you?”
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA I couldn’t believe it and thought it was fucking hilarious! As I talked to people they told me the whole story as they watched me go get myself arrested. Thanks friends. They said that got naked and then I broke into an apartment complex, (That’s how I was knocking on some old ladies door) running up and down the hallways screaming and yelling with my dick hanging out, Up rooted a mail box, rugby tackled a tree, tried breaking into a car, broke the door handle and then fell asleep on the car. While I was passed out on her neighbor’s car the cops came. I made a run for it and the cops caught me and I hit the cop and he tased me then took me to the station. Did I ever make it to Pork’s? For maybe one second. But we may never know.
Well fuck me pink! Sometimes drunken events get out of control and you can’t do much about it but put on a show for your friends. Getting stupid drunk like that is never good for numerous reasons. Like getting naked, fighting a cop, getting tased, and landing in the police station. Worse things could have happened that night but I thank the god that I am still up and going for many more nights to come. If you ever go out taking your shots like you are playing hot potato, just remember one thing: DON’T FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Stay Wasted, Porch.
Written Oct. 2010
Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. Everybody has drank it and have had their own ways of outcome when they tend to take a shot or two too many. Some better than other but some terrible worse than everyone; that would fall more in lines with myself. Beer I can drink until the world ends but once I hit the hard liquor it rushes to my head and I go insane with no brain. How so? Many ways on which I will never understand…
As any other night with the random group of friends I would be with we would start it off with nothing better than alcohol. It was Zander, My little Sister Anne, This weird kid Somogyi, and I. Zander is a pretty cool kid, Anne is my crazy little drunk sister, and Somogyi is…well this kid has some sort of problem. He says/does the weirdest shit but you can’t help but laugh. So he is fun to be around and is that kid you can always chill with. That’s if you can put up with him. It’s around 8pm and we stop at the 7-11 for Somogyi to fill up his slurpee cup. This cup could probably hold up to a gallon. I don’t know why the fuck anyone would need A GALLON ON ANTHING! Unless you’re poor or it’s alcohol (Even though this kid got kicked out of his house and is living in his friend’s shed.) But after we get a gallon cup filled of slurpee for this 5 year old we go to the liquor store and for some reason I feel like drinking hard alcohol. I normally drink beer but from now on after that night I only drink beer. We get to the liquor store and debate on what we want to get. I say Captain Morgan and everyone agrees. My little sister goes in to get the handle. Yes my little sister buys me alcohol. I don’t care who gets it along as I get drunk. We get the handle and time for shots. We start driving around and I start doing shots in the back seat with Somogyi. We were passing the handle back and forth like we were playing hot potato and then chasing it with the slurpee. Getting a gallon filled with slupree wasn’t a bad an idea after all. We continue this for at least 15minutes and we knock out a decent amount out, I’m not drunk or buzzing, Time for more shots. As anyone would guess, it’s a bad idea, but not for Porch McDonagh, not the Irish drinking champ with an iron liver. As I thought anyway, I step it up to double shots. I do as much straight as I can so I can get drunk. (One of my many bad habits) If I thought it out any little bit everything would be fine. But stupid decisions lead to good stories so why not right? Zander calls this girl Molly asking if we can go drink at her house. Boom boom pow and we get a house to drink at! We get to her house and make our way to the basement. I sit down on the couch and I AM STILL SOBER! What the fuck? Are you kidding me? I guess you know what that mean.
Zander: “Yo Porch you want to drive my car home because I want to drink”
Porch: “Yeah man no problem!”
Anne looks at me with the look that says “You are probably the dumbest fucking idiot out there.” I look at the handle and go drinking again while Molly goes upstairs and gets us cups and coke for a chaser. Perfect, I get my glass and start making mix drinks! Once you mix the alcohol with a chaser the alcohol content isn’t as strong so I decide to start chugging my glass so I can get fucked up quicker. Instantly Anne demands the keys from me which was probably the best idea. I don’t really care so I throw them over and continued chugging my Captain and Coke. Sweet drunkenness is on the way! In the mist of all of this I make a phone call to one of my buddies Ives.
Porch:”IVES!!!! LET’S GET FUCKING DRUNK”
Ives: “Fuck yeah dude, come over to Pork’s.”
Porch: “Hell yeah I’m on my way.”
I chug a few more glasses and we head off. It’s Zander, Anne, and I walking out the door. Then INSTANT BLACK OUT! Yes when you do shot’s fast it will kick u in the ass! My last clear memory was getting in the car and Anne was driving me to pork’s I guess.
[BLACK OUT]
I un-black out and I see four angry cops yelling at me threaten to tase me. I had my hands on the right side of my head and I was leaned over to the right. As I get figure out where I am I start asking questions.
Cop2:”STOP HITTING YOURSELF!!!!!”
Cop1: “GIMME YOUR HANDS!”
Porch: “What the fuck happened?”
Cop1: “You were knocking on some 83year old women’s door.”
Porch: “That’s it?”
I black out again after that and I don’t know what happened for the rest of that night. I wake up in jail cell barley remembering what happened or why I was there? I am trying to put two and two together but it was all hopeless. Was I car hopping again? What the fuck happened? I noticed that my hands hurt so bad from the hand cuffs and my right shoulder was sore with scraps all over it. I’m thinking to myself wondering what the fuck happened? What could I have possible have done last night? Then I remember that that Cop1 told me I was knocking on some 83 years old woman’s door? Wow, fuck theses cops. It was the morning I was assuming because some cop came over to me with orange juice and a bagel from Dunken Donuts. Bagel sucked mad donkey dick, I didn’t even eat it. A little while later I got to talk to the investigators. There were two of them trying to find out what happened last night. I didn’t even fucking know what happened.
Investigator1: “What happened last night?”
Porch: “I have no idea.”
Investigator2:”Where did you get the alcohol from?”
Porch: “I don’t remember.”
Investigator1: “who were you with?”
Porch: “I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t even know why I’m here”
Investigator2: “You hit a police officer”
Porch: “Ah fuck. You’re not serious?”
Investigator1: “Yeah we are. So you don’t remember anything?”
Porch: “Nothing.”
They quickly gave up since I couldn’t even give them any information. After that I went to the Rolling Meadows Court House jail cells. It was the smelliest ole rotten place. Blacks and Mexicans everywhere and of course when I asked what they did it wasn’t their fault. I sit down in my cell waiting from about 11:30am to 3:00pm. Throughout that time I sat in the cell with five other guys and they served us lunch; a shitty ole boloney sandwich with no butter or mayo. I was pissed. After the awkwardness left we all started talking a little bit. The chatting started off on why we are all in here. From domestic violence to DUI’s, but with every story there is another side to it.
Old Black Guy: “Oh man you iz one crazy white boy! I’m surprised dem cops didn’t tase or beat yo’ ass!”
Black Guy: “Oh shit fo’ real? What you do?”
Porch: “I don’t really remember but I remember them saying that I was knocking on some old lady’s door. I don’t think that’s it so probably for underage drinking but I figured I would just get a drinking ticket. I wonder what was I doing to piss them off so much?”
Old Black Guy: “Yeah you were cursin’ out the cops and what not! Fuck you, fuck, this, fuckin’ pigs! Fuck fuck fuck! Oh man dey hated you! Sure gave me my entertainment!”
Black Guy: “Dayum! Uz a lucky mudda fucka!”
Porch: “Ah shit man, are you serious?”
Old Black Guy: “Yeah man I couldn’t believe it!”
Porch: “Damn. What you in for?”
Old Black Guy: “Ah man it was me, my gurl, and her sista cruisn’. I was pretty drunk so I had my gurl drive my car. Her sista in da back started bitchin’ and den a da two of dem started bitchin. Next thang ya know we got in a car accident! N da bitch is blaming me!”
Porch: “Wait, what? That makes no sense; the driver is responsible for the driving!”
Black Guy: “You got fucked Jo’”
Old Black Guy: “You are tellin’ me! I fucked up my leg too!”
I can’t really remember what else happened until they put us upstairs for court. We waited in a holding cell until our names are called. They call my name and I walk into the court room and they talked about court bull shit. But when I walked in this was the first thing I heard:
Judge: “Martin McDonagh Born October 2nd 1980.”
Porch: “Wait I was born in 1990.”
Public Defender: “Shh, Being born in 1990 would make you a minor and they think you were born in 1980 so that would make you of age.”
Porch: “Oh alright for sure.”
Sweet, a freshmen in college and I look like I’m 30. A lot more bullshit goes on and I go back to the cell. I talk to my Public Defender and he tells me if I don’t get bailed out by 4 30pm I am going to cook county jail. My bail is set at $1000($100 to walk), I’m freaking out but on the other hand I get to say I have been to Cook County jail. Time rolls by and I get bailed out at 3 30pm! Close one! But I didn’t leave the court house until 4 30pm. When I left the court house they give me my possessions and of course my phone is lost. Wow thanks god. Cool.
We go back to my house and I go on Facebook. There I see what I really did. I couldn’t believe it!
Lauren: “Dude, you’re a fuckin’ asshole. What were you doing last night? You came running down my street, drunk as fuck, passed out on my neighbor’s car, destroyed another neighbor’s mailbox, got naked and ran into a tree? What the fuck? There are little old ladies that live around me and you scared the shit out of them. The police have your name and everything. You’re such a jag. Seriously man, what is wrong with you?”
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA I couldn’t believe it and thought it was fucking hilarious! As I talked to people they told me the whole story as they watched me go get myself arrested. Thanks friends. They said that got naked and then I broke into an apartment complex, (That’s how I was knocking on some old ladies door) running up and down the hallways screaming and yelling with my dick hanging out, Up rooted a mail box, rugby tackled a tree, tried breaking into a car, broke the door handle and then fell asleep on the car. While I was passed out on her neighbor’s car the cops came. I made a run for it and the cops caught me and I hit the cop and he tased me then took me to the station. Did I ever make it to Pork’s? For maybe one second. But we may never know.
Well fuck me pink! Sometimes drunken events get out of control and you can’t do much about it but put on a show for your friends. Getting stupid drunk like that is never good for numerous reasons. Like getting naked, fighting a cop, getting tased, and landing in the police station. Worse things could have happened that night but I thank the god that I am still up and going for many more nights to come. If you ever go out taking your shots like you are playing hot potato, just remember one thing: DON’T FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Stay Wasted, Porch.