MOABB: the Mother of All Beer Bongs

There was a time when I would have happily subjected myself to this, and I thank God that time is over. I remember my third spring break at Myrtle Beach, SC, so well because we went to a party where the admission price was the consumption of a four-beer beer bong, administered from the second floor landing that was the only entrance for newcomers. Everyone looks the same when they do something like this: fear, anger, acceptance, commitment, and eventually bulging cheeks and eyes as you experience 48 ounces of beer disappearing down your gullet in about five seconds. Some couldn't keep a seal and ended up wearing some, and some couldn't finish (the last second or so was mostly foam, which is to be expected when the operators were as hammered as they had to have been), but I was amazed at how easy it was. I never was much of a chugger, but all that momentum really opens one up.

An hour later, I was vomiting in the yard. But I still felt like a winner.

Thanks to Llama Butchers for the link, although seeing it again on American Digest reminded me to post it here.