Drunk Funnies Novels & Stories

Luke Fagundes That night took a long time to pass. At least I had that impression. I didn’t connect with those things anymore. While I had a glass of juice and my old friends, at least for a long time I called them, laughed at me, the rest of them got drunk, sinking into a fake fun. How many times did I do that, get drunk and smile to hide how unhappy my life was?

Lyra sipped hers. Big mistake. Her face contorted like she’d just licked a lemon made of lava. “Why would anyone willingly drink that?” she gasped. “Because,” I said, grinning, “it makes everything seem funnier. Watch.” At that exact moment, a man tripped over a bar stool and fell face-first into someone’s nachos. Lyra giggled. The sound was music. “You’re insane,” she whispered. “Comes with the territory.” ---

I hiccup, and it feels funny in my throat, sounds so weird to me that it makes me giggle again. I like being drunk, I’m lighter and more fun; it makes me think Jake is sex worthy and that’s pretty hilarious. I don’t find men a turn on at all, so that’s even funnier … Well, except Jake! He’s the exception to the rule in that everything he does is panty warming and alluring, even standing staring at me as he is now. I’m hit with a strange sound. It’s me. I’m laughing; I guess I find myself amusing and I sound so detached and not here.

"I'll never understand why you men insist on getting falling-down drunk when you can't even take care of yourselves afterward," I mumbled, equal parts irritated and exasperated. All he did was laugh, then started singing and humming like a complete fool. His eyes were shut, grinning like an idiot as he slurred through the words. There was no doubt he was completely wasted. I bet he have no idea what he was doing. One minute he was snarling and bitter, the next he was giggling and singing nonsense. I swear, drunk people make no sense at all.

****** At the end of the day, just as the clock strikes midnight, Luther and I are heading back to our car. We are bone tired, and we might actually have to find a motel to get some good sleep tonight. I'm holding a paper bag, because we have so much, but we also had a very fun time. Not just that, we are also a little drunk. That stall that we bought the fruit drinks from failed to discuss that they added a little alcohol. Luther screws his nose, snorting as he fails to hold his laughter. "Do you remember the drunk farmer that tumbled over the barrel?"

Is all I manage to force myself to say. “Oh sweetheart, you’re not the only one that passed out. Apparently, someone thought it’d be funny to spike the fruit punch and with nerves running high, you ladies were drinking a lot of it and, well, most of you ended up drunk. No worries though, you weren’t the first to pass out.”

There’s always something sad about a man sitting alone drowning his feelings in alcohol, and you can always point out who was there for that very purpose. They walk in without saying a word, wave down the bar man ordering the same thing each time, one drink after another until a drunk smile fills their lips. It’s then you see the other side of them, they dance around with the other punters, either overly happy or in most cases, get off their face to such a degree that they pass out on the floor in a drunken mess.

Who would win? “He’s just drunk,” said a bald man over by the bar. “You’re all going barmy over nothing.” He stood up, took a step forward like you do when you get to the bottom of the stairs and thinks there’s one more step when there isn’t, and went down like a very drunk sack of potatoes. He lay on the floor giggling. All around us, men began to stagger and go limp. Weird, unnerving laughter filled the room. A younger guy sitting by the window suddenly stood up. “It’s Corporal Ween, he’s back. He isn’t alone.”

I didn't care about the money though, I was doing this to have some fun. It always felt good to get drunk, because I'm not constantly worrying about anything and I'm not trapped in my mind. I feel free when I'm drunk. I may be clumsy when walking but when I dance, I can dance perfectly even when drunk. I had on a silk red flowy dress with a halter going around my neck.

For a brief moment, it made me happy. When they were tired of fighting, they drove around in Malcolm's car. Gio, on the other hand, said that they were all going to drink but except for me. So they went to 7/11 and bought soju, Yakult, and sprite. "What's that? You're in high school?" I asked, laughing. “It's just chill drinking,” Keegan said. I cracked a grin. "Just don't cry," I advised, and we all burst out laughing.