When I was a kid , my grandparents took my extended family out for a nice dinner. And before we sat down to eat, I went to go to the bathroom. I always took a piss before sitting down as a preventive measure, so that I wouldn't have to pee during the meal. But ten minutes after we sat down, I had to pee again. And again. And then I had to go again.
Perhaps consider that you may have a problem. Getting so drunk you piss yourself is not a normal, healthy behavior. Not saying you are, but I'll leave this here for you, just in case. Stop drinking more than you can handle. This is an FML for whoever had to clean up after you. Did Michael Winslow provide you with the sound effects as you made your way to bed?
The single most prominent memory I have of the Hartford Whalers from my childhood is not any of the historical milestones that are typical of nostalgic anecdotes; no Ron Francis trade, no Adams Division titles, no Whalermania parades. I was a deeply troubled sixteen year-old runaway and drop-out by the time the Whalers said goodbye to Hartford. The Civic Center and the 15, or so mourners who packed it to the rafters that day seemed a million miles away to my teenage self. It was a dark time to live in Connecticut and a dark time in my life, and quite frankly I was far too concerned with cultivating my image as a miserably cool punk rock kid to be caught dead wearing kelly green and crying in public. I remember that day with equal measures of shame, pride and awe, and it has come to encapsulate everything it means to me to be a Whalers fan.
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