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20 years ago I was thrown into a shower fully clothed so that I'd stop freaking out. I'd already threatened to kill my friend's giant fucking skink named smeagol (nick named "'zilla!" after an old Fridays skit) and had begun to rant crazily.
in a carefully planned manner our more sober friend ruined our evening with skiny puppy, strange toys from his game store and a blue oyster cult finale of "go go go godzilla" where he released his accursed beast. once my friend russ starting screaming that he would "kill the pizza man with the zoobtube" I knew that I'd flipped my lid.
george, the evil freaker-outer and owner of the demon lizard, later became a cop. fucking bastard.
I guess that counts. it will have to. I don't pass out anywhere drunk.
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