I stopped giving a fuck about weekends long ago. School and work, while not necessarily requiring sobriety, tend to put a damper on the chaos found in a good, long drunk. However, it’s fairly depressing to only enjoy two out of every seven days of your life. Thankfully, solutions exist for those of you hiding in fear from the blinding light of mid-week temperance. The most obvious, the Bukowski route, is simply just to be shit-faced constantly. Don’t worry, the only real risk of the permafade is simply not remembering extremely long stretches of your life.
If Henry Earl isn’t your idol, but getting your blaquephade on is your only reason to continue living, then you’ll have to destroy the meager weekend you get. Unless you prep your quarter’s class selections around drinking – more on that in the future – midterm time is fucking up your chances to get fucked up. Instead, you’ll have to make like George W. in flight school and go apeshit from the very second you’re free from the terror grip of the week’s responsibilities. If you aren’t thunderpermed by the time you finish your bike ride home from class, you’ve already wasted precious minutes.
Whatever day your week ends, you need to start drinking during your last class. It takes a bit for the buzz to hit, and you certainly don’t want to waste your free time waiting for that toasty feeling when you can easily snatch those minutes from class while taking notes. Just do it creatively. Give up the amateur soda bottle mixed drink and stock up on some hypodermic needles from a veterinary supply store to inject vodka in oranges. They don’t leak, they don’t smell, and even your prof will think you’re a healthy, well-adjusted student.
When you return home, you need to keep giving your body what it wants. Since it’s still early in your trek, doing some light liver stretches early with some drinking games will give you a perfect base coat. Once it’s time to head out, you should be comfortably in the grip of a smooth buzz, but because it is impossible to tell when you’ll get the all-important next drink, make sure you have some in reserve. Bringing a flask around I.V. can be a risky play at times, so instead bring a bunch of beer to wherever you’re headed. For starters, I know two Natty and two Keystone cans will fit snugly inside a beach cruiser frame. Once out, I’ll assume that you’ll keep slamming ’em back, so rage it until you pass out.
Waking up without a hangover after 10 hours of heavy drinking can be a bit confusing, but it’s only because you’re still drunk. The Japanese call it “second day drunk” and it’s one hell of a fickle bitch, because you never know when it might disappear. At this point, getting through the day means as many smooth daytime drinks as possible in preparation for a proper shit show that night, and your drink selection should progress accordingly. Thank God Mexican beers were invented as a breakfast replacement. After draining a six-pack of Sol in the a.m., a lunchtime margarita is a perfect segue to an afternoon of light beers or mixers.
By dinnertime, all that drank might be making you sleepy and either a power nap or caffeine is in order. Either route is a fine choice, although the availability of malt energy drinks like Sparks, Tilt and overly-thugadocious Joose make charging seem like the better option. If you’re not down with those, I learned a stellar pick-me-up trick from a Red Bull cameraman called a snorkel, in which you shotgun an energy drink while someone pours vodka through the top for an instant recharge.
After multiple days of heavy inebriation, going out again can be a daunting task, but don’t give up because Monday is quickly approaching. To finish off your bender with a good bang – pun possibly intended – make sure that your house is ready for an all-night after-party. With booze often running out early in I.V. having a backup handle or two in your freezer is clutch for getting a large group of people 3 a.m. retardo. Hopefully you have some beers left to ease your way towards morning, but nothing is more important to the finish of a good weekend than pulling a frosty bottle out of your fridge for a champagne sunrise. With weekdays fast-approaching, nothing says “fuck off” to real life like popping some early morning Andre after gripping life by the balls.