Background: The "Century Club" is the club a person automatically joins upon successfully accomplishing the feat of drinking 100 shots of beer over the course of 100 minutes. There are no official rules, but it is generally accepted that applicants must take one shot each minute and that disqualification occurs when an applicant vomits, passes out, or switches majors to art history. Membership in the Century Club carries with it no dues (other than a partially destroyed liver) or privileges (other than utter awesome kickassitude).
Evidenced below is the personal log that I kept during my attempt to join the Century Club's elite ranks.
~*~*~*~*~
Shot 1: It appears as though a standard shot glass holds 1.5 ounces of liquid. Given that volume and my predetermined rate of consumption-and accounting for my weight and sex-my pre-calculated BAC after I am finished will be .226. While this is inebriated-enough to cause stupor and significant motor impairment, it probably won't cause loss of consciousness or a blackout, and it certainly isn't in the lethal realm. Knowing all of this going in, I can now relax and not worry about this experiment being dangerous or irresponsible. So there.
Shot 2: Two down, ninety-eight to go. Is it odd that seeing the 98 remaining shot glasses doesn't daunt me, it just makes me more thirsty?
No, not this clown's "Century Club."
Shot 3: And when in the hell did I acquire this many shot glasses?
Shot 4: As a precaution, I should probably turn off my phone now.
Shot 5: And throw it against the pavement.
Shot 6: And stomp on it a few times. Yep. There we go. I feel safer now.
Shot 7: Ohhhh, but what if I need to call an ambulance? Eh, that probably won't happen unless I get really drunk like I always do when I drink beer.
Shot 8: Not feeling much of anything yet, other than a serious regret over choosing Miller Lite for this experiment.
Shot 9: I have begun turning over the spent glasses and building a pyramid like Marion Ravenwood does in Raiders of the Lost Ark. Oh yeah, that's right: I'm cool.
Shot 10: I'm sucking in a lot of air with these shots of already-carbonated beer, I wonder if this will produce any side effects?
Shot 11: Buuuuuuuuuuurp.
Shot 12: The equivalent of 1.5 quick bottles of beer into this experiment, and already I'm starting to feel a little bit tipsy. Or, as my dad would call it, "that ready to go to work feeling."
Shot 13: I wonder... if we dug a big trench to re-route the Rio Grande southward, then could we legally annex a big chunk of Mexico?
Shot 14: I'm hungry all of a sudden. I could really go for some eggs right now.
Shot 15: I wonder... why don't eggs taste like chicken?
Shot 16: I guess it's probably for the same reason that milk and cheese don't taste like beef.
Shot 17: I wonder... why don't milk and cheese taste like beef?
Shot 18: I wonder... could you make cheese out of breastmilk?
Shot 19: If you could make cheese out of breastmilk, that'd be tits.
Shot 20: I shouldn't be allowed to have this much time alone with my thoughts.
Shot 21: Maybe I should've brought some porn along for all the downtime.
Shot 22: I wonder... if Satan ever had to renovate Hell because it got too crowded, he could probably open-up a ton of space by making the circles non-concentric.
Shot 23: Yep, definitely should've brought some porn along for all this downtime.
Shot 24: Nothing gross, though-just some normal, everyday girl-on-guy-on-girl-with-a-midget-introduced-into-the-scene-at-some-point pornography would be nice.
Shot 25: ...Though I'd hate for the paramedics to find me dead of alcohol poisoning with porn freeze-framed on the television.
Shot 26: I don't want to die like that, and I also don't want to die before visiting New Zealand.
Shot 27: And I don't want to die before visiting Japan!
Shot 28: And I don't want to die before visiting the hospital!!
Shot 29: Man, all this thinking about death is harshing my buzz; it's reminding me of Uncle Ralph's passing.
Shot 30: Yeah, Ralph's death was really difficult-especially making it look like an accident.
Shot 31: Wow, I should NOT be allowed this much time alone with my thoughts.
Shot 32: After the equivalent of 4 bottles in 32 minutes, I officially feel drunk for the first time in this experiment.
Shot 33: And... yep... now I'm horny.
Shot 34: And... yep... now I miss my ex.
Shot 35: Maybe I should bootytext her.
Shot 36: Ohhhh, but I intentionally destroyed my phone earlier.
Shot 37: I miss my ex.
Shot 38: I really miss my ex.
Shot 39: Thank god I intentionally destroyed my phone earlier.
Shot 40: I really miss my ex.
Shot 41: I really, really miss my ex.
Shot 42: I can't believe how quickly beer turns me into a chump who pathetically crawls back to his exes.
Shot 43: I HATE YOU, BEER!
Shot 44: Aww, beer, I'm sorry; I can't stay mad at you.
Shot 45: BUT I CAN GET MADE AT YOU AGAIN!
Shot 46: Aww, beer, I'm sorry; I can't stay mad at you.
Shot 47: Hmmm, you know: I might be a little bipolar.
Shot 48: If only I were gay, then maybe I wouldn't miss my ex so much.
Shot 49: Maybe I should try it.
Shot 50: I'd need a boyfriend, though. Somebody cute.
Shot 51: Hey! Brett's cute; maybe he'd be gay with me!
Shot 52: Brett and I would make such an awesome couple.
Shot 53: Boy, I hope Brett will consider being gay with me. We'd have the cutest gay babies ever!
Shot 54: I should bootytext my Brett.
Shot 55: Ohhhh, but I intentionally destroyed my phone earlier.
Shot 56: Also, I'm not actually gay.
Shot 57: Though, truthfully, if Brett ever came on to me...
Shot 58: Thank god I intentionally destroyed my phone earlier.
Shot 59: Man, I sure do miss my ex.
Shot 60: I really need to pee.
Shot 61: I really really need to pee. Thankfully, I came prepared for just such and occasion; I brought my penis.
Shot 62: Just took my first piss break, but I needed to take shot 62 while peeing. Needing to take a shot of alcohol as I'm peeing might mean I've finally crossed that threshold between a normal drunk and either (a) a really pathetic drunk or (b) a really awesome drunk.
Shot 63: Okay, so actually (a)... but I liked the semantic ambiguity of that last sentence.
Shot 64: Wow. I was pretty optimistic when I first started this experiment, but my recent train of thought is depressing me something fierce.
Shot 65: Maybe my teachers, grandparents, priest, and therapist were right; maybe I am a pathetic loser. Sure I say I'm doing this little experiment in order to generate material, but-in all truth-maybe I'm simply an irredeemable alcoholic.
Shot 66: Like my parents were.
Shot 67: Before they both died of cirrhosis, that is.
Shot 68: *sob* Maybe I should just cease all my irresponsible drinking now and grow the hell up. *sob* This experience is making me unfathomably sad; I'm not sure if I'll ever laugh again. *sob* *bawl* *sob*
Shot 69: Heh heheh-heheh he-hee. "69."
Shot 70: Haha ha-HA-hah HA-HA-HA!
Shot 71: Guffaw, hahaha, har-har! "69."
Shot 72: Heheh-heheh.
Shot 73: Well that was nice, but now I'm sad again.
Shot 74: Good lord, I'm starting to sound like a Nickelback song.
Shot 75: That's odd, now I kind of want to listen to a Nickelback song. Ewwww.
Shot 76: Thank goodness my parents didn't live long enough to see what I've become: a fan of crappy Canadian faux-rock.
Shot 77: And again, I'm contemplating ending this little experiment. Liver problems and soul-crushing sadness I can deal with; Nickelback on my iPod I cannot.
Shot 78: I miss my ex. *sob*
Shot 79: I fear that things are about to stop being polite... and start getting real.
Shot 80: Hey, is that a unicorn in the stove? It is!!
Shot 81: I have begun having a discussion with the stove about the unicorn inside of it.
Shot 82: The stove is disavowing any knowledge of the unicorn. The discussion is becoming heated.
Shot 83: I told the stove my "heated discussion" pun. God, I am hilarious.
Shot 84: The stove is refusing to acknowledge my hilariousness. The stove is obviously a moron.
Shot 85: I have begun a frank and earnest argument with the stove about when a moron it is. I am proving my points with articulate and infallible logic, and so far I have only had to resort to kicking the stove twice.
Shot 86: The stove won the argument.
Shot 87: The stove is being rather smug about it.
Shot 88: It occurs to me that it's probably a good thing I'm writing all of this down, as I really have little hope of remembering any of it tomorrow.
Shot 89: I have begun to wet myself.
Shot 90: DON'T LAUGH AT ME, STOVE!!
Shot 91: I have finished wetting myself.
Shot 92: My vision suddenly went completely sepia-toned. I'm not sure if this is something I should worry about. In truth, everything looks more important now. Wow... man. Wow.
Shot 93: I have now begun to wet various other things around the apartment.
Shot 94: I CAN PEE WHEREVER I WANT, STOVE! IT'S MY APARTMENT! WHEN YOU START PAYING RENT HERE-OR AT LEAST STOP BURNING MY FROZEN PIZZAS-YOU CAN HAVE A SAY ABOUT WHERE AND WHEN I RELIEVE MYSELF, YOU JUDGMENTAL, SELF-CLEANING WHORE OF AN APPLIANCE! *sob* *bawl* *sob*
Shot 95: I have apologized to stove for calling it a whore and for peeing on and in it.
Shot 96: I am losing control of my faculties and fearing unconsciousness. This is bad. It is very bad. I shall attempt to will myself back to sobriety with a last-ditch mental effort.
Shot 97: Incredibly enough, I think it's actually working. Dubiously, I do seem to be sobering up a bit.
Shot 98: I AM A GOLDEN GOD!
Shot 99: I... I can makekit... Just... just one... mooorrrrrrr......
Shot 100: N/A.
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