I have a friend, for the purposes of this blog I’ll call Parker, who partied hard, drank copiously and had a tendency towards raucousness. One of the things Parker and his pals did in their off-time was to go four-wheeling in their monster trucks with their big knobby tires through the muddy trails. Afterwards, they would often build raging bonfires and hang out with their hot girly friends deep in the wilderness . . . you guessed it . . . drinking and partying and getting rowdy.
One time, in the midst of the merrymaking, Parker was sitting on the tailgate of a truck swilling beer . . . no doubt with a min-skirt clad, big-haired babe hanging on his arm . . . when all of a sudden the tailgate broke off . . . a practical joke from one of his good buddies perhaps? It wouldn’t surprise me. Anyhoo, Parker bashed his head on the way to the ground and wound up with a huge gash on the back of his head.
Head wounds bleed profusely, as this one no doubt did, and there was blood pouring down Parker’s face and all over the place. Instead of taking their good friend to the nearest hospital or walk-in medical center for treatment the good ol’ boys decided to treat the wound themselves. The first step in their treatment plan was to dump beer on his head. Well, they had to disinfect the wound, didn’t they? Beer is alcohol . . . alcohol kills germs . . . thus disinfecting. Duh! Then they dressed the wound with a hot babe’s panties . . . okay, I made that last part up but it wouldn’t have surprised me in the slightest.
The best course of action probably would have been to visit a doctor . . . even if it was after the partying was done, the beer consumed and the chicks ravaged . . . but, of course, that didn’t happen. To this day, Parker has a pretty thick scar on the back of his head as a reminder of his foolishness. But he lived . . . no sepsis or brain loss . . . as far as we can tell, although the latter is in question. Parker is a pretty smart dude but not always the brightest beer in the six pack.
The moral of this story . . . don’t be a dumb ass.
It takes only one drink to get me drunk. The trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or the fourteenth.
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