Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase five heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.


JG in KC:

I used to live two blocks away from an area in KC called Westport. Full of bars and clubs, people always walking around, lots of young hot chicks everywhere, perfect place to live in your early 20s. One night I got this girl back to my apartment, one I had been after for quite a while. She was stacked...big beautiful DD's, thin, great ass, fun to hang out with, liked to party...perfect. We stopped off and bought some beer, ended up back at my place and sat around drinking on the couch. She was mine. In the bag, signed, sealed and delivered. So we start making out, and of course it didn't take long for me to go right for those ginormous beautiful ninnies right in front of me. They were calling me. They needed me. I'd dreamed about popping off her bra for months and imagined how far these things would jump out, like they were being suffocated and oppressed in there and needed to be freed. I remember this like it was yesterday. She had on a tank top with a zip up hoodie over it. I worked the zipper down, and bam, there they are, just a tank top and bra separating me from shangri-la. We continue making out, and boom off comes the tank top. It's on. I'm so close. I swear I was more fixated on getting her tits out than I was nailing her. These titties were like Mt. Everest and I was determined to reach the summit. So now she's laying on top of me, and I reach around to unclip her bra. No fastener in the back. WTF?? Ah haa...it's in the front. These things are just mashing into my chest. Even in her red bra they looked magfuckingnificent. I sit her up, go for the clasp that is barely clinging together, I've got my hands on it ready to pop it open, and she says "Wait, I need to pee." So I point her down the hall, last door on the right. And then it hit me. Holy fuck. Oh no. Tell me I didn't. Oh please for the love of God please please please tell me I didn't. But I knew. I just realized what had happened earlier in the day as the events of that morning had just instantly re-occurred to me. It was out of character - probably something I did maybe once out of a 1,000 times - but in a rush that morning I'd done something I hardly ever do. I had overslept, jumped in the shower in a rush, and hurrying to get out the door, I forgot to do something very important. And as I'm praying that my worst fears are not about to become reality, I see this beautiful girl who is down to her red bra and daisy dukes with her big screaming DD's calling out my name, as she comes walking back down the hallway back into the living room to inform me: "There's something in your toilet." Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh jesus holy fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Oh fuck. Please no. Oh please oh please fuck no fuck no fuck no please fuck no. I walk back to the bathroom and sure enough, there it is in all its glory. A truly staggering and jaw dropping sight to behold. Floating in a whole day's worth of stank, a whole day's worth of waiting, a whole day's worth of working up to the very moment it was discovered. A toilet bowl filled with my morning shit, aged about 16 hours. It could not have looked or smelled any worse. To categorize the entire scene as horrific would not do it justice. It was biblical. Standing there taking it all in, I actually managed to disgust myself. As if it were possible, you might ask what else, if anything, could make it any worse. How about a shit stain on the rear center of the toilet seat? Put that in your pipe and smoke it. It was a disaster of the highest order. I literally said out loud to myself, "You gotta be f'n kidding." The whole scene was just wrong. Even if I had come home alone and walked in on my own to find it I would have been disgusted with myself. Amused, but disgusted. So I immediately flush, grab some tp, wet it down and wipe off the seat. Spray air freshener. Turn the fan on. Swing a towel around to get the air flowing. Lit the candle on the bathroom counter. Anything I could do to mask the horror. Walk back down the hallway, round the corner into the living room and there she is, tank top back on, hoodie back on, purse in hand with car keys already out, and she says "I have to get up early tomorrow, I'm gonna go. Sorry." Polite kiss on the cheek, and out the door she goes. Completely dazed and in total disbelief, I sit down on the couch, unable to process what has just happened. All alone now, TV off, big beautiful titties gone, empty beer bottles on the table in front of me and all I hear is the sound of the bathroom fan blowing down the hall. I never got close to those DD's again.


I weep for this man. So, so close to his dream rack.

Joe:

I had not seen my friend in quite a while and he told me this story recently which floored me. We will call him Bill. Bill has a date at a nice restaurant and decided to get there a little early to have a few drinks to loosen up. After a few cocktails, his date shows up and they start dinner. They had hooked up before so it was very likely that it would happen again tonight. However, half way through the meal he realizes that he has to take a shit. Now unlike you, he has a fear of pooping in public. This is quickly turning into an emergency so he leaves money on the table and bolts out of the restaurant, leaving the girl dumbfounded. He hops onto his scooter (yes he owns a scooter as his ride) and starts hauling ass home. He has to go so bad that he can't even sit and is standing the whole time. A cop with his lights on is behind him so he moves over to let him pass only to find that the cop is there to pull him over. Instead of stopping, Bill decides to "make a run for it" on his scooter. After a short chase, Bill realizes that he will not lose them while driving and decides the best course of action is to ditch the scooter and make a run for it. He jumps off the scooter and makes it about 20 feet before crashing into a set of bushes and shitting himself. The cops find him, poop in his pants and haul him to jail. The cops don't even let him clean himself up and he spends the whole night in jail with poopy pants and charges of DUI, resisting arrest, eluding, and speeding. What a way end a night that should have easily ended in hooking up.

/dying

The scooter really makes it.

Willy Wonka:

One night while out partying, I walk out into the street after the bars closed down and I approach a couple of chicks. After a little light conversation and teasing, I get one chick really into me, but I talk to her friends too. I have this chick all over me and I'm making out with her in the middle of the street. I walk with her and her friend to their car. Two other dudes are there as well and at this point all I can think of is how I don't have condoms in my pocket. So we stop at a gas station. The two chicks go the restroom and I buy some cigarettes and some condoms. I'm feeling good about this night and it's going well. The chicks come out of the restroom and I go in to take a piss. I come out of the restroom and the gas station clerk who I bought the condoms and cigarettes from says to me, "Say man, were you with them chicks? Cuz they just left you." "What the fuck? Are you serious?" I walk outside. They're gone. I go back in the store, the clerk is trying to tell me what happened, "Yeah, man the girl you were with was down, she was even trying to buy some condoms, but her friend grabbed her and said they had to go and pulled her out of here. She was hating on you hard man." Eventually my boys show up and I finally get to leave at around 5 am. My receipt shows I bought the condoms and cigarettes at 3:01. I spent damn near two hours stranded at a gas station.


That is a BRUTAL cockblock. The evil friend even had a hookup for the night of her own! WAS SHE BORN WITHOUT A SOUL?!

David:

We head up to the study lounge and instantly get naked. I start going down on her like I've never gone down on anyone before… "Wake the fuck up!" I lift up my head and realize that I had passed out with my face buried in her vagina. Lucky for me she passed out too. Taking a look at the clock, I realized I had been down there for more than an hour. I try to start the magic again in her room but am quickly stopped. "I'm not making out with my vagina." The smell on my face was so bad that I could have easily passed for a vagina in a blind smell test. We never hooked up again and I'm now widely known in her sorority.


I bet they call you Tunamouth.

Matt: