Life has happened. It passed you by with barely a goodbye. A “so long,” and a “see you later,” is all that's left; so much more you could have done with your life. We all have our bucket lists that we wanted to complete in life. Some do more than others, some never even get started. Welcome to Life as it Happened a fictional retelling of those real bucket list items we all hope to complete before our last candle is snuffed. All are welcome to join in and contribute the stories of how they think their experiences would go. I'm your host, Marc Sakol, and I'm here to say “Hello” before Father Time says, “Goodbye.”

Monday, August 2, 2010

I'll take that bet

By Greg "Young G-Z" Zeck

I’ll never back down from a bet. When somebody says, ‘I bet you can’t,’ I respond, ‘you know I will.’
That’s why I regretted the bet I had made Sunday night after drinking heavily to celebrate one of the worst weeks of my life. Sean told me I couldn’t consume 30 drinks in a single day, and I wasn’t about to let him off the hook for this one.
Unafraid as I usually am, I woke up on this Wednesday to take on the greatest challenge that has ever come before me. I knew this was going to be harder than any day of football, basketball, or work I’ve ever done.
But I’m not a pussy.
I started my day off at 8:00 a.m. because God damnit, I need my sleep. I did as I normally do by brushing my teeth, but on this particular day, I decided my mouthwash was going to be a shot of vodka. I swished the deliciousness around my mouth with only a gentle burn before gulping it down. 1 away.
I knew I was going to be bored when taking my shower, so I brought in one of the PBR’s I had in the refrigerator. It doesn’t taste very good when it warms up so quickly.
When I had to actually start off my day, I went with an old classic for breakfast, a delectable treat that I call a champion’s steak. It’s just a juicy cut of Allen Brother’s steak with a couple of Guinness on the side. I could have this as my meal everyday for the rest of my life.
For a while I had been planning on getting my hair cut, so I wondered why I couldn’t do it on this day. I decided take the Jagermeister and red bulls to the barber shop. My hair was quite long, 7 inches, so I told the man to cut off 6.
Being the champ I was, I threw down 6 Jagerbombs to celebrate the occasion. My bros were going to be so jealous of my new fricken haircut.
I was already starting to feel it, I was 10 shots in, and those Jagerbombs were strong. They weren’t those weak ones you’d find at the bar, so I decided to take a nap.
I woke up at about 12:30 and came to the conclusion that I could be so much more efficient if I just drank the case of ‘stones rather than actually trying to keep a tally on my arm, which was looking pretty sweet with ten marks already on it.
After having a box of mac and cheese (filling, and it makes me seem more hick white), I decided to invite Sean over for a little power hour. He was being a bitch, but said he’d watch me do it. Seeing as how I love me some good bourbon, I took out the handle of Jim Beam and through down 6 shots that hour. I was just warming up.
We chilled for a little bit and then decided to play some NCAA 11, where I said I’d drink a beer for each touchdown I scored. He really sucks at the game so I knew I had this in the bag. Sometimes I wondered during it, if he was letting me score on purpose, but hey, I like beer.
I ended up winning 28-7 so I decided to chug the four Miller Lites within 5 minutes of each other. After that last one, I felt like shit. I had to run to the bathroom because I was about to throw up. Well, I did, but it stayed in my mouth so I forced it back down as to not lose the bet.
I told you earlier, I go hard.
I immediately passed out on my bed was smart to set my alarm for 9:00 p.m., which would give me three hours to take down 10 final drinks. It also gave me a few hours sleep to get some of the alcohol out of my stomach.
So I woke up and went to the bar and made my bitch get me some Jimmy John’s. The Italian Night Club was fucking delicious. And luckily at the bar, it was wing night, so I 20 to fill my stomach up.
While I was there, I knew I had to pace myself, as to not upset the food I just ate and to not get overfilled with alcohol. I ordered two double whiskey diets, to ease into it. It’s my favorite drink for a reason.
I was technically ahead of my pace so I went out on the dance floor, but not with my bitch. I decided to go after this chick with some huge knockers.
Seeing as how I wanted to see her after the bar, I wanted to buy her a few drinks, so we took 3 shots together. She was drunk.
I quickly noticed my great night was starting to wind down. It was 11:30 and I walked over to Sean and he had 3 beers sitting on the table for me. They were warm High Lifes. It was the most agonizing drinks I’d ever had. They tasted like urine.
Somehow, I finished the first in ten minutes. I struggled with the second, and finished with 7 minutes to midnight. I took the final bottle and downed half of it immediately and let out a huge burp. My stomach was about o explode and I felt really dizzy. I just tried sipping it to make some progress. Two minutes left and I had a quarter remaining.
I put the bottle up to my lips one last time, closed my eyes, and just prayed it would go down.
I had finally done it. I showed Sean what was up. About to black out and forget the entire day, I told him to order a round of tequila shots so I would. Then, I went home with the new girl. It was a good night.

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