Novel & Cerita Drunk Funnies

"Mr. Sterling shows Maeve a level of care and respect you will clearly never understand." "Papa, don't," I said, gently touching my father's arm. "There's no need to explain anything to him." I turned to Rhys. "Rhys, don't bring up that childhood betrothal again. It was just a joke made by the dons over drinks. It was never real." "Those were your words. Are you taking them back now?" Rhys opened his mouth, but no words came out. "The answer should be obvious," I said, standing up. "It was a joke then, so let's not pretend it's serious now."

I babbled, turning in circles as if the room might spin with me. My vision blurred at the edges, but I'm still aware of what I was doing. Mostly. With wobbly legs, I strutted through his living room. "Too small," I thought, for someone with his kind of money. As I judge the place, my toe hit the corner of the coffee table. I collapsed on the floor like streatching rag doll. "Whoa!" he gasped, reaching too slow to catch me. Flat on the floor, I burst into a cackle that echoed like a witch’s laugh. Why is it that when I’m drunk, everything feels hilarious?

One of the men drawled out a creepy smirk on his face. It was obvious him and his friends were already a bit drunk considering they were slightly swaying on their seats and have been here for quite a while downing more than just a couple of drinks. Never forgetting to make me feel uncomfortable with their uncalled for sexual jokes and advances. They were the reason I excused myself to the ladies room earlier.

a guy said. “That party was fun!” “I was getting bored with…” SPLASH! “FUCK!” “HAHAHAHA! Serves you right! I told you to leave her alone!” The second guy laughed at the first. “She tasted sooo good.” “You’re drunk.” The two men came into view as they kept walking towards the party down the street. They looked like regular men. Their suits were dirty, ties were hanging around their shoulders, and they were staggering all over the road. It was like watching a game of pinball as they bounced off every surface they could.

But somehow… It turns into a game. A ridiculous, chaotic drinking game. Rules appear out of nowhere. Carter drinks if he messes up a player’s name. I drink every time I laugh. Which happens a lot. And whenever anyone anyone touches the puck? We both drink. Within minutes the rules become completely insane. But weirdly… It’s fun. Really fun. The room fills with laughter, the clink of glasses, and the low roar of the crowd from the TV. And maybe it’s the wine…

*********************** *ARTURO* The party was in full swing, not looking like it was going to die down any time soon and my Mum was having a great time, I walked about giving out hugs and saying goodnight, it was time to head home and cuddle my girlfriend, she should be snug in bed by now, having dropped her slightly inebriated father home, he had drunk more than usual but with our team winning I am surprised we are not all drunk as skunks. What a silly saying that is, 'Drunk as Skunks', I wonder where that came from?

“Leonard, my guy, you talk sense… when you are drunk.” “Correction, my brother,” Jakes chimed in, his voice heavy but cheerful. “Leonard talks nonsense when he is sober, and sense when he is drunk.” He leaned back, laughing at his own joke, nearly tipping his chair over. Vivian gasped, tugging Adrian’s arm. “Did you hear him? Jakes! You almost fell!” “Almost doesn’t count,” Jakes replied, wagging his finger and chuckling. “Close is not enough.”

If I had not received that anonymous text message, I never would have believed that Marcus, who was always so restrained and proper with me and never touched alcohol, would engage in something like this. I swallowed the bitter feeling rising in my throat and pushed open the door. "Marcus, what are you doing?" Hannah Carter suddenly fell to the ground as if startled by my questioning voice. Someone immediately spoke up to criticize me. "Claire, aren't you being a bit too uptight? It's just a game of truth or dare. It's not real." Hannah looked at me with rapid, shallow breaths. "Claire, don't blame Mark for this. It's my fault. I lost the game, so he drank and played along with me..."

he asked with his snickering face, swirling his drink inside the glass he’s holding. I put my glass on the table after drinking the last shot. “Want me to kill you? This is not even a club for you to dance,” I snorted. “How barbaric!” he said and drank his glass of beer straight. “I just want to have fun!” I shook my head. “Go, have fun!” I said. This idiot was such a mess! He smiled at me like a mad man. “H-hey! Be careful!” I shouted at him as I saw his drink dripped from his mouth.