Last weekend in Baltimore I drank two 4 Lokos then found out I had to move my car because my street was going to have weekend construction. I promptly moved my vehicle then proceeded to continue boozing at a few nearby bars before my memory failed me entirely. The last thing I remember was starting to walk home, proud of myself for having avoided driving home drunk or paying for a taxi.
Next thing I know it was 6:45am and I was in bed still wearing my shoes and my contacts. Several of my knuckles were split and there was part of an orange construction fence entangled on my coat. I set out to retrieve my car before it could be towed, but alas, it was nowhere to be found- not even in the city's two impound lots. FOUR AND A HALF HOURS OF WALKING LATER I found it on a sidestreet in the hood, at least 3 neighborhoods away from where I thought I parked it. Textbook Lokomotion.
Did a power hour with a Loko not knowing what it was. Passed out at a party, got lost on my way home. Was found by my guy friends in the guys bathroom crying in the stall, when they moved me to the bigger stall i started screaming "he left me for a fat ugly girl with big gums!" "big what?" "GUMSS! LIKE A HORSEE!" I then went back to their room where i forced them to play christmas music for me to "dance" to, it was april. When they told me to go to bed i told them that I was the night owl and they were my owlettes and i tell them when the fuck to go to bed, and it is their bedtime!
i should preface this by stating that under normal circumstances, i am fully a legit lesbo. I met a friend of mine at a dance party after an art opening, where i'd imbibed a few glasses of wine. we went to a deli and picked up 3 four lokos and split the bounty. i did *not* black out, but started hump-dancing a dude in a sweater vest (WHAT?). My friend stage-dove and no one caught her, causing her to break her rib, whereupon I left with the dude. we went back to the radio station he owned and had sex on the couch. he slept on the floor and i left my bra there, doing the most brutal walk of shame i have ever experienced.
Went to visit some bros and started off the night with 3 cans of this death juice....that's the last thing I remember. Apparently, we got sick of sitting around and walked to the store to continue getting our rage on. On our way, I miserably failed to dropkick a tree and proceeded to tear the back of my shorts and put a 12" gash in my leg. In the store, I ripped off my shirt, had a flex-off with the old lady behind the register with blood dripping down my leg, and got kicked out by the manager. A few hours and a bunch of tackled mailboxes later, I woke up on the bathroom floor with blood soaked shorts stuck to my leg, throwing up dinner/Loko/blood and crying like a little girl....thanks Four Loko
I bought 4 cans and saved them until last night. I happily drank 3 of them and then 2 hours later was overwhelmed with the worst case of explosive diarrhea I have ever had. I peed brown liquid out of my butt for over 3 hours.
Had a cranberry lemonade Loko and six beers, went to a dance club with my buddies, and even though I hate to dance, apparently I was tearing shit up. According to witnesses, in my flailing I ended up elbowing this girl in the head on three occasions before we left. When we got back to my friend's dorm I desperately wanted to check my email, but my laptop was in my buddy's room, which was locked. Apparently he had a girl in there, but I was unaware of anything other than the fact that my laptop was in there and I needed it right fucking then. I decided to try ramming the door with my shoulder. I ended up breaking the deadbolt out of the frame. I also ended up bursting in on my friend trying to get it on with none other than the same girl whom I had elbowed in the face earlier that night. Needless to say, she ran the hell out of there, my friend got blueballs and a busted door, and I got to check my email. All in all it worked out pretty nicely.
i drank three 4 locos and at some point decided it was a good to ride my bike to a party with 4 loco still in hand, and soon my bike (with clip pedals) quickly became acquainted with the curb, I however landed victoriously on my feet after having somehow hopped over the handlebars as my bike hit the curb ..... 4 loco still in hand, no drop spilled
So the other night, I went to a bonfire at a friends house and decided to drink nothing but loko. I was almost done with my 3rd when someone had the great idea of branding my ass with a metal skewer. Of course I thought it was a great idea at the time. While everyone argued about whether or not to let this happen I decided to test it out the back of my hand, burning the number 11 into it. Note to self...four loko doesn't also act as a pain killer