yo dawg u don even kno - my niggas get dat drink, dat LOKO drink, dat LOKO drink. jeah!!!11! me and my nigga Qwan 8 LOKO every damn day fo realz keepin dat shit on lock. we be out slappin bitches str8 up pukin in cups son!!1!!1 last time i drank dat shit i woke up in da middle of a dice game - clickety clack muthfucka - burnt up dos dollahs and snorted da shit out dat cash money!!11!!!
Drank a Four Loko to pregame for a college sponsored party. Got taken to the hospital with 22 other kids.
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I had ONE four loko with my best friend and his roommate. We belted out showtunes for about an hour and then passed out all together in one bed. next thing i know he was fingering me...i just laid there excepting it for what it was. But didn't do anything in return...Somehow we went into his room, did the same thing for about another 5 minutes then i just stood up, left, and went back to sleep in my friends room. OOPS. he had a girlfriend.
Hanging out and drinking with some friends and my boyfriend, I downed a 1.5-L bottle of Arbor Mist by myself and a couple of beers to boot. Then my friend pulled out the Four Lokos.
Long story short, I woke up the next morning with bruises all over my body, with some very questionable photos on my camera, with my very naked boyfriend in my bed... and without my virginity.
Wilson the Hammock Man
: Need to pass out after drinking too much loko? Check out these sweet camping hammocks
1.5 lemonade four lokos causes the insertion of any one-syllable noun in place of "shots" in the song "shots" by lmfao.
so, i had a day off work and began drinking wine and 4 lokos the nite b4, the next moring i continued this until the afternoon, and by this time id drank around 6 4s and a rather large bottle of wine, and still had several 4s left, with no drinking buddy, sooooo, i grabbed a teddy bear and gave him a 4loko and myself one, and we began drinking together, with me drinking his share, 4 4 lokos later, i black out,the rest is from my friend kristens point of view
she arrives home w munch and discovers me passed out on the couch next to a teddy bear w a 4 loko in its lap. wakes me up and begins removing the mess, when i realize mr bears beer is gone, i become infuriated and scream for him to b given back his beer, and try and console him, saying "im sorry man, shes crazy, well get u another one, its all good"
i remember none of this, but i do believe it, i love 4 lokos, im drinkin one rite now
im sure ill b back on here
So there I was...
Sitting at my computer looking at DMV site information to find out what I needed to do the next day to get my license replaced from when I lost my wallet on Halloween. Apparently Batman gauntlets weren't meant for storing wallets.
I get a text from my friend asking if I wanted to come over and partake in watching the excellent lineup of Thursday night shows. At first I hesitate putting myself in a drinking situation on a work night when I've already dug myself in a hole losing my wallet and everything inside. Then I realize my night of staying in would probably involve working out and trying not to fap, so I got changed and headed over.
I'm sitting in the champagne room enjoying a harmless can of Blue Light when I spot a ridiculous looking yellow and black empty Four Loko sitting on his bar. I figured the stuff would eventually be banned so I spontaneously decided to drive to the gas station and buy one, just to say I've tried it.
Naturally, being sans-drivers license from my bad decision to not wear pockets under my Batman costume, I was unable to provide proof of age to buy this stupid can of ghetto hooch juice that I barely wanted in the first place. Not being content with the embarrassment of being seen drinking one, I decide the logical thing to do is have a freshman buy it for me. One of the freshmen in attendance had a fake ID that he said he had bought Four Loko with earlier at the store around the corner. I assume it will be quick and painless due to the proximity of the store from my friend's house, so I toss him in the car and drive over. We get there and it's closed. I mention the gas station and he says they "probably won't accept his fake ID". Wow, I have reached a new low.
The retarded pointlessness of the situation is starting to come to the surface. I decide I might as well go all-in since my chips are already low, so I drag another freshman with me to the gas station and hand him some money so I can sit in my car and look even more retarded. Never should I have thought the "hey mister" situation would come back and reverse itself on me as "hey kid".
He comes back with FOUR cans because the guy at the counter said there is a special deal where it's cheaper to buy more than one. Whatever, at least I won't be the only one there drinking this thing. One can is obviously all I want though, because I don't need to dig myself deeper with work and errands to run the next day.
We go back to my friend's and he hands me one of the ridiculous looking cans of blue raspberry Four Loko that resembles pants you might see on a fat chick tailgating at a Bills game.
I open the huge idiotic can and expect a horrible taste resembling the bottles of MD 20-20 that Lindley used to sneak into the movie theaters, but I'm pleasantly surprised that it's not as bad as I expected. Which, of course, still tastes like shit by anything other than malt liquor standards. I proceed to consume the Four Loko while watching Always Sunny and The League. I eventually finish the can and notice that I'm feeling a bit dizzy. I attempt to reset myself by grabbing another beer, which I hope will also get rid of the feeling that papa smurf had ejaculated blueberry pie filling into my mouth.
I begin a conversation and immediately realize that although I only feel slightly buzzed, I'm finding that my motor skills seem a bit off and I'm actually slurring a bit, which is rare even in my frequent scotch-induced-retard-strength phases of drinking. I look across the room and see the freshman incoherently bumble over to the bar and open his second can of Four Loko. I then start to consider that a small bowl of spinach and cottage cheese is not a sufficient base layer for a giant can of 12% alcohol malt liquor.
In my Four Loko induced state I immediately get in my car and drive to Taco Bell where I decide inviting two XXL Chalupas to the stomach party is my best option. I sit in the parking lot and eat one. About 3/4 of the way through my eyes widen as I realize the current contents of my stomach, and what will most likely be heading through my intestines like a runaway bullet train. The first fart pops out, and the smell can only be described as "Satan's afterbirth". I quickly finish the rest of the XXL chalupa and begin driving home to the safety of my toilet. Having underage kids buy me alcohol, drinking blue ghetto rat piss, and eating late-night haggard food seemed to foreshadow the possibility of me shitting myself in my little powder blue, V6 Mustang. I give it a little more gas (pun intended) in my attempt to reach home base quickly as I think the night can't get any worse.
That's when I saw the red lights behind me...
Sure enough, the evil spirit inhabiting the can of ghetto swill I had consumed prior had summoned an officer of the law to come and punish me for my sins. I drop an F-bomb, then pull over roll down my window.
OfficerLoko: "Where are you headed?"
Me: "I'm just going back to my place after watching some TV at a friend's house."
OfficerLoko: "Where exactly is that?"
Me: "Rendezvous drive."
OfficerLoko: *gives me an odd look* "What? Did you say you had a rendezvous with someone at your house and you had to drive?"
I can't tell if he's making a sarcastic joke or if he actually didn't hear me. Either way, this causes my stomach to get even more queazy than it already was.
Me: "Rendezvous drive is the street that I live on, just a few streets away from here."
OfficerLoko: "License and registration please."
Me: "Here is the registration, but I lost my wallet last week and my license was in it. Here is my old college picture ID though." (the irony is uncanny...)
OfficerLoko: "I noticed your license plate light wasn't working, that's why I pulled you over... There's a pretty strong smell coming out of there, how many drinks have you had tonight?"
Me: "...three [canned] drinks."
OfficerLoko: "You sure that's all you had? Your eyes look pretty bloodshot and tired and I can smell you from out here."
At this point I'm starting to realize that the rancid smell of human shit and taco bell is not on his list of favorite things. He begins to act more stern.
Me: "I've been pretty tired lately from staying up late... and there is Taco Bell in the car."
OfficerLoko: "Hmm... Why don't you step out of the car, I'm gonna have you do some tests just to show that you're good to drive."
Unfortunately I had taken my coat off in the Taco Bell drive-thru and didn't want to make it awkward, so I just got out and left it in the car. The combination of freezing my balls off and feeling like napalm could come shooting out of my rectum at a moments notice had me noticeably trembling, which did not help my performance.
First he did the pen trick where I had to follow it with my eyes. This one was a piece of cake and I followed it flawlessly, which seemed to anger him since this is supposedly one of the surest ways to tell if someone is too inebriated to drive. He literally kept moving the pen back and forth for probably 2-3 minutes hoping I would slip up, but I kept focused until he was done.
Noticeably frustrated, he had me count from 2 to 16, then back down to 2 but skipping the number 7. I excel at this type of thing normally anyway, so I did fine. He then tells me to say the alphabet starting at H and without singing it, which I also easily complete. Not yet satisfied, he has me stand still and lift one foot 6 inches off the ground, holding it while counting to 60. Luckily this did not involve having to move around, so I also passed this test easily.
He pulls out a breathalyzer. I vaguely remembered someone telling me you could "refuse" to take one at the time, but I figured that would give him probable cause to arrest me, so I decided to take the risk and hope that my "three cans" of alcoholic beverage actually looked like "three drinks" on his little booze-o-meter. Besides, I remember messing with one of my friend's breathalyzer at the bar recently and felt like I was more sober now than I was then, which apparently was within the legal limit. He glances at the reading, then puts it in his pocket.
Finally, he pulls the ace out of his sleeve and has me walk a line on the road heel-to-toe, turn around in a specific way, then walk back. At this point I'm shivering a lot, tired, and afraid to bend at the waste. I look down and notice that I'm wearing black leather Aldo shoes that have that stupid narrow-nosed flat end to the toe that does not contain an actual part of your foot. Fuck. I contemplate whether this would be possible in these shoes even in a sober/warm/post-deuce state. I completed the walk as asked, although there was awkward contact whenever my heel hit the empty narrow tip of my shoe, which caused me to slightly stumble a couple times. Satisfied, he has me get back in the car while he goes and sits in his.
I sit there for what feels like an eternity, cursing the concept of caffeinated malt liquor. He eventually comes back over with what looks like a large wad of paper towels you would grab when preparing to clean up a mammoth pile of liquid dog shit. As he gets to the window I instantly recognize the thin glossy paper and grayish text... Those are tickets.
OfficerLoko: "Well, I could technically arrest you and bring you in for being borderline on the legal limit, but you seem coordinated and coherent enough to be driving. However, since you LIED to me about your "three drinks", I'm going to give you these tickets. These are fix it tickets that you can avoid a fine for if you fix ALL of these tomorrow."
He hands me the pile of tickets and gives me a "good luck with that" look, then tells me to head straight home and gets back in his car. I scramble to put away my ID card and registration as a clench my butt cheeks like I'm in a prison shower. After getting home and unleashing the demons (and dropping an array of F-bombs), I finally take a look at the details on the tickets he gave me. FOUR tickets, for the following:
- NO/INADEQUATE PLATE LAMPS
- FAILED TO CHANGE ADDRESS/REG
- FLD/NOTIFY DMV CHANGE OF ADDRESS
- UNINSPECTED MOTOR VEHICLE EXP SEPT 2010
Cost of a FOUR Loko: ~$3
Cost of the equivalent of FOUR chalupas: ~$5
Cost of FOUR tickets: ???
Cost of FOUR hours spent today going to the DMV and Mechanic: ???
Finding at least FOUR ways to humiliate yourself in one night... Priceless.
Oh, and don't drink and drive, assholes.
there was a sign out front of a bar on pittsburghs south side stating "four loko : $2.50 / can." my girlfriend and i were amped so we went in and asked "can we get two black and yellow four lokos please, to go." the bartender gave us an annoyed look and stated "we only sell 6 packs to go" i was astonished. "NO ONE needs 6 of these devil cans" i thought to myself and then i pointed to the sign stating the per can price. the bartender then informed us that the per can price was for in-bar drinking only... my reply: "that is just irresponsible on your behalf.." so we got our sixer of black and yellow lokos (the lemonade gets you the MOST fucked up because of its elusive colorway #blackandyellow #blackandyellow) and we were on our way to a night of madness and debauchery. took a cab clear across the other side of town, each drinkin a four loko in big getgo cups the whole way there. we arrived and were soon feeling the effects we burst into a bar expecting a scene as raucous as we were feeling... to no avail, there was 3 patrons in the bar and the music stopped when we walked in. luckily my brother was just outside and we screamed another bar we knew there were friends at to take us to. after showing up to the second stop (onto my second loko as well) we were welcomed by a group of drunks that were not quite loko'd but def fucked up too. and they were ecstatic when they found out i had snuck the remaining 3 lokos into the bar .. this is where things get a little fuzzy ..
i dont really remember being in the bar at all . but theres pictures of me running around with my shirt off and a "wild maniac face" on. i believe i got thrown out of the bar (probably for sneaking in the evil potion) upon hitting the sidewalk i recall thinking. "fuck this tree . ima take it with me" and this began the "rip tree out of ground with bare hands trick" after about 15 minutes of pulling this tree all the way to the ground without it snapping the other bar patrons were pretty disgusted with my behavior. which then led to my shirt off again. screaming fuck this tree and initiating a series of, what i thought were amazing, round house kicks to the tree trunk. to no avail. this little fucker was proving a tougher adversary than i could have imagined. i was then dragged away by some pansy liberals who didnt understand my fight against this tree. it wasnt that i hated all trees ... just that one.
Ok so i was at my sis-in-law's house for the weekend & we brought like four 4Lokos & had 4 els...we went to the store to get the dutches for the els & went to the park. When I first tasted the Fruit Punch Loko, it tasted really fruity then it started tasting like STRAIGHT BEER lol but its something in that shit that made me keep drinking it...at first i had to mix it with Pepsi cuz i dont like the taste of beer at all, but after the 1st el I didnt have to mix it anymore. All I remember is walking, smoking, eating junk food, Pepsi & 4Lokos...lol i think i woke up with my shirt halfway off & no pants on but idk how that happened....Thank You Loko.!
The Kid Curtis
Pre-gamed hard with a four loko and plenty of shots before going to a Miami club. I preceded to use my fake ID to get in and sneak a bottle of captain Morgan in with me. From there, I blacked out, the next thing I remember is waking up on the couch of a friend's apartment. My buddy told me that I ended up throwing up in the girl's bathroom and then tried hopping on a frat bus.