Josh, 27 Points for offending mothers and pissing off tour guides Back in college I used to drink more than was deemed healthy by most medical doctors. One Saturday morning, after a particularly long Friday of drinking (half a bottle of Rumple Mints, a plethora of Absolut, a leftover box of wine, and countless Black Label Ices), my girlfriend, a fraternity brother and I headed out to our favorite greasy breakfast place, the venerable BLUE ANCHOR. That day I was feeling quite good and hungry, so I ordered a double dose of my usual: 2 sausage egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants, two orders of hash browns and a coffee, orange juice and iced tea to wash it all down with. Looking back, I realize I was feeling so well because I was still completely drunk from the night before, but I didn't realize that then. Well, breakfast was as much fun as usual, as my friends and I shared drunk stories from the night before. Maybe I should be a little more clear on that, actually they told me stories of the stupid things I did which strangely I could no longer remember. After our hearty meal, with breakfast now coursing through my system, we headed home to go back to sleep until dinner. About a quarter way through our 3 minute drive, I realized I didn't feel so hot anymore. Almost instantly an overwhelming urge to boot thrust itself to the center of my attention. Since I was driving and we were on an empty campus street, I stopped the car in the middle of the road, opened the drivers door and promptly left my breakfast on the double yellow line. It just so happens that this particular street passes between our Admissions building and our Student Center. My boot was quick and cleansing, I think my body was just telling me one sausage egg and cheese sandwich is all my belly was able to take since it was saving room for more liquor as soon as possible. When I got done I looked up towards the Student Center and saw 20 petrified, appalled parents staring at me, some of them covering their children's eyes and one Prospective Student Tour Guide speechless trying to escort his group in the opposite direction as soon as possible. Cries of mothers yelling to their sons, "Well there is NO way you are coming to this school!", "OH MY GOD, that's so DISGUSTING" and "If I ever catch you drinking that much, I will disown you" could be heard echoing throughout the valley. All the poor tour guide could mutter is "And if you look over here (away from my car) you will see the engineering building, lets go over there quickly." While my friends and I found that pretty damn funny, it turned out the best was yet to come. For dinner that night we headed down to a restaurant in the same area of campus. As we approached the boot in the road, my girlfriend asked, what's that? As we got closer we realized what "that" was. It was 4 squirrels enjoying my regurgitated sausage egg and cheese sandwich almost as much as I did the first time. Two were fighting over an extra large chunk of "stuff." By the next morning their were no signs of boot on the road, just 3 fat squirrels in the trees and one poor road kill victim.... Anonymous, 27 Boot in a foreign country's factory...score! A boot story from the Far East: Recently, work brought me back to Southern China. This particular trip happened to be with some customers, one of whom had never left Iowa before and had 25 years of Midwestern oppression pent up inside of him. My newfound customer friend was dying to see what China had to offer outside the confines of our hotel compound. Being the good salesman/tour guide that I am, I promised to take him out and show him "the world". The second night of our trip we head out for an expedition that was to rival Robert Peary's 1909 trip to the North Pole. We started slow, a couple of Tsing Tao beers in the hotel bar to get us warmed up, then out the door we went and into another world. We let the spirit move us, heading further and further from civilization taking various lefts and rights along our route until we were thoroughly lost, drunk and happy. We were to learn many things that night. First lesson: the further from the hotel we got the cheaper alcohol became. Soon we were buying 28 oz Kingway beers for the astronomical price of 6 U.S. cents. The next lesson taught us that every garage doubles as a fine liquor-serving establishment, barbershop, and clothing store. Come in, Come in the friendly folks babbled in their native tongue, you look like stupid rich round eyes who have no idea where you are.... And come in we did. Happily enjoying their homebrewed rice liquor at $0.17 per water bottle. For those that wonder, homemade rice liquor tastes very similar to homemade corn liquor, which tastes just about the same as chicken. Rotten chicken that has been wasting away in the trash for months, but who's complaining. On to the next garage, and what to do we find? 3 plywood pool tables and many new friends. My now very drunk friend decides all drinks for everyone there is on him for the rest of the night, hands the guy with the key to the padlock that locks the refrigerator a Chinese $20 and liquor flows like the Yellow River. One of the guys decides to show his appreciation so he takes my friend by the hand and leads him to the barber shop/garage next door. I, ever curious and scared out of my mind, follow along a safe distance behind. The man points to the 30 or so girls working that evening and motions to take his pick. My friend obliges and the girl leads him to the next room. Gathering all my courage, I peak around the corner to see....This poor young girl washing my friends hair, with him sound asleep with his head in the sink. After he is sparkling clean, I get him up and we start making our way back, except now he needs to stop in every "barber shop" to see if hair washing is all they have to offer, falling asleep in two or three others. We get back to the hotel, and I get him to his room about 6:30 a.m., with the plan of starting work at 7. That's the nice thing about jet lag, there is no night and day. I get changed for work, head back to his room to find he had exploded in the bathroom, sharing his half digested Kingway and Rice Liquor with every fixture and basin in the bathroom and was sleeping right in the middle of his own volcanic flow. I get him up, showered and off to work we go. As the day progressed and my buzz wore off I began to crash down hill faster than that Agony of Defeat skier guy. Then lunch came. Chinese McDonalds... McThai Burgers with Green Sauce, Chicken Wings (probably from the chickens we had seen running around with the rats the night before) french fries and a coke. Now was my turn to walk down boot road. I sprint for the workers bathroom, and away I go. The problem is there are no toilets in the worker's bathrooms in Chinese factories. Just cans sunk into the ground with a hose to wash them out. Trying to aim projectile vomit into a coffee can from 10 feet away is more of a challenge then I was up to, so the walls got a nice new coat of orange brown paint. Luckily I was able to sneak away before anyone realized, and leave a mystery boot present behind. At least the hose made it handy for the cleaning people to spray everything down a week later... Real, 24 Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son. So there I was drunk out of my mind and all I could think about was a night of passionate sex. I scoped out all the girls at this off campus party I was at and realized that given my condition they were all way out of my league. Just as I was about to give up hope, a girl fit through the door by buttering the sides of the entranceway. There she was - a large busty sophomore whose half-closed eyes told me she wanted to party. I spit at her my best line "Hey baby, ever heard of Kulpmont, Pennsylvania?" It was at that moment that I knew I had her. She quickly swallowed the vomit that was moving up her esophagus and grabbed my hand. We stumbled up the stairs to a small room. After spending a half hour fitting her through the door, we lay down and she got down to business. She took off my pants to reveal my Deep Banana Blackout underwear. I told her that before she could pleasure me! It was my duty as a gentleman to pleasure her...I took a Wawa six-inch Italian sub out of my pants pocket and let her gorge her face with it. Ten seconds later when the sub was finished this lovely lady looked more plump than ever...I must tell you that I was aroused. I let her begin to pleasure me as I looked up at the ceiling. The rhythmic nature of her sucking was too much for me as it reminded me of my days as a young lad rowing on the famed Thames River. I began to get queasy and realized that the bathroom was just too far away. Although it was in none of the "How to Pick Up Girls Books" I had read, my intuition told me that the warm acidic feeling of vomit HAD to be a turn on. I stuck my finger down my throat and let'errip The boot projected in a parabolic fashion all over her back and head. I was told that some even slid down to her bosom region. She looked up at me and smiled.... I knew that I had done good. She finished me off and ran down the stairs naked to show other partygoers her badge of honor that Cool-guy Steve had given her. I slept well that night knowing that I had both given a girl a night of bliss and had found what amounted to a half-eaten hot dog in the chunks of vomit that remained on the floor. Thanks for listening, Suddenly Sexy Steve. Joe, 25 Drive-by booting, points for chunks on cab So, I was binge drinking for two days recently on a trip to Houston, TX when on my way to the airport to go home at 4:30 am, I suddenly felt a boot coming on. I'm not sure if this was due to the insane consumptions over the last few days or rather it was the awful smell of the taxi drivers cologne layered on fresh for the day. Either way, I made it 5 minutes into ride when I had to ask the driver to put down the window for some fresh air. That works a little, but the inch crack he left me was just not good enough. I tried as long as I could, but the smell just got to me and I yelled to the driver to pull over and roll the windows all the way down. He didn't really understand until I put my hand over my mouth and let out a moan of ough! About 5 seconds later, as the windows was being opened, I let out the most outrageous Texas BBQ boot of all time. I think I actually managed to scorch my throat with all of the chunks of Jalapenos from lunch. Oh well, it was the drivers fault for locking the freaking windows...or at least that's how I'm justifying it. Either way, it's his car that had boot all over the side. This I call the "Hail-a-boot." Tracy, 23 Blue boot in a baggie gives this 2 stars A bunch of college buddies and I got together for a little weekend drinkfest at the Alumni House. A couple of wine coolers later, I was feeling pretty good - except for that burpy, too-sweet sensation that Bartles & Jaymes leaves you with. We headed to the bar where I downed two screwdrivers and a shot of Kahlua. I finished my night with back-to-back Blue Hawaiians over a game of darts where I couldn't even see the board. Last thing I remember, I was begging my old roommate not to let me hook up with my friend Brad. By the time we got back to the House, I couldn't see straight and was lying on the living room floor unable to move. In a rare moment of lucidity, I thought the best thing would be for me to go to bed, so my roommate helped me upstairs and to the nearest trashcan as I suddenly began making the tell-tale swallowing noises and had broken into a sweat. I booted twice into the trashcan and immediately felt better. Good enough, in fact, to realize that if I left the puke in the trash it would smell like shit the next day. I picked up the trashcan and pulled out the clear plastic liner, at which point I saw my blue-colored boot in the light of day. I was morbidly fascinated and went downstairs to show my friends, who gagged and told me to get it the fuck out of there. I kept playing with the bag, marveling at how warm and blue it was. I had never been so impressed. That was my last Blue Hawaiian for a while.