The other day, as I was sitting through the weekly conference call with my parents about how I’m a disappointment to the family, am far inferior to my younger brother, and am soon to be disowned, my mind began to wander (as it does in moments of serenity). I actually ended up dozing off during this peaceful phone call and was abruptly woken up fifteen minutes later by the sound of excited chatter and a clinking of tin cans.
Of course these nostalgic noises from my edgy 14-year-old days stealing two warm PBRs from my parents for me and six friends prompted me to explore, and, as I walked into the living room, I was met by a small crowd. A flash party on a Tuesday — nice. Nothing crazy exciting, but, as I looked around the room watching my fellow peers try to get fucked up in a variety of interesting ways, I realized how hilarious the entire ordeal was. Let’s take a step back and break down some of our weirder mainstream consumption methods, shall we?
Shotgunning is tight as fuck. You get drunk way quicker (which is obviously the goal) and there’s just something about it that makes you feel like King Shit for three or four seconds. Similar to crack, I imagine.
Outside looking in, it’s pretty simple. You make a hole in the can, crack it, and slam it. Done. Right?
Wrong. Most everyone I’ve ever seen shotgun prepares first, and it’s a sight to be seen. Maybe they crack their neck and shake their arms out a little to get loose, take some deep breaths, etc. Good shit. It’s all in the details. Then all of a sudden, BANG — can gets cracked open aggressively, the arm used to open it gets thrown back so hard you think they just fucking dislocated their shoulder. And just like that, it’s over. Can gets spiked to the ground nine times out of ten, chest inflates to twice its size, and the room suddenly fills with the smell of testosterone, grainy burps, and the decent amount of beer that was still in the can when they threw it to the ground.
Danger Canning/Rumpelstiltskin/Detonator/Whatever They Call It At Your School
You slam a canned, carbonated beverage against your skull until it fucking explodes and then you drink the remnants. Are you fucking kidding me? It’s so incredibly absurd, especially when things are crazy and the one dude doing it is the one person you know who — more than anyone else — is not in need of more brain damage. Yeah, buddy, that padded helmet is going to look sweet on you for the next two years. Have fun wearing water wings in the shower and talking funny for the rest of your life. You know he’ll still think it was worth it, too.
Usually only performed by the drunkest guy at the function and immediately followed by a primal howl and some form of yelling. This particular method absolutely floors me every time. Have you ever seen someone give themselves a nose bleed from snorting alcohol? It’ll make you question reality.
When done correctly, nothing to sneeze at. Highly efficient, effective, and with minimal waste. One of the classics even, I dare say. But what turns this method into an true spectacle are inexperienced practitioners. If you don’t crack a smile at the sight of a twenty-something-year-old chick waterboarding herself with B-grade beer, you might also hate Christmas and the sound of a baby’s laughter. Cheer up, Stalin; things aren’t that bad.
So next time you’re out with the fellas getting up to no good, punching holes in walls, and stealing TV remotes (maybe even a Wi-Fi router; I don’t know what kind of punk you are), give yourself a few seconds to look around and have a laugh at someone else’s expense. I promise you there is goofy shit to be seen..
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