PARTY FOUL!

Don’t act like you haven’t heard it before.  According to Urban Dictionary, it’s “something socially unacceptable done in a social gathering.” For those of us who have been in the presence of a party foul or may have accidentally committed one ourselves, we know that they’re much more than that.

Thanks to digital cameras, your unfortunate lack of judgment will probably be plastered all over the Internet before you even have the chance to pull your head out of the toilet the next morning.  But no matter how bad things get for you, just thank your lucky stars that you’ve never committed any of these…

You haven’t, right?

Tossing Your Cookies. This is quite possibly the most commonly seen party foul. If you really have to throw up, try making it to the bathroom.  When your pre-drinking meal ends up on a fellow partier or in a potted plant— major party foul.

Bed Hog. “Getting jiggy with it” is not a party foul itself, but when you’re doing whatever you do in someone else’s bed— not so cool. Especially if you don’t know whose bed it is. Extra bonus points if you wake up next to the biggest creep at the party. He may have looked like Rupert Grint last night, but this morning your Harry Potter hottie looks a lot like a steroid-induced Carrot Top. Yummy.

Dancing Queen. The next time you get the urge to clear the dance floor and whip your hair back and forth, don’t.  Only one person on the planet can actually look cute flinging their head around like a crazy person and that’s Miss Willow Smith herself. Anyone else who feels like attempting this dance move should resort to doing so in the privacy of their own home…doors locked, curtains closed.

The Hot Mess. You might have your way with the fellas sober, but if you’ve been pounding down the spiked punch all night you may want to back off a little. When you start hitting on every guy at the party with fake eyelashes dangling off your face and your breath reeking of the soggy chips you just found on the floor, it’s time to call it quits for the night.

American Idol. So, you think your voice is God’s gift to the world? Well once your favorite song comes on and you start belting out the lyrics to “The Climb” at top of your lungs, you’ll have people running for the door. Stay off the furniture, it’s not a stage. And when your audience is throwing beer cans at you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Somebody’s Trippin’. Blame it on the a-a-alcohol all you want, but no one is going to care why you just belly-flopped into the middle of the floor. Whatever the reason, it was hilarious and certainly party foul-worthy. And possibly a candidate for America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Duel it Out. There’s nothing like watching fights get broken out over the most ridiculous things. Girls pull each other’s hair, guys punch walls— it’s lots of fun. Usually the fights conclude with the girls “hugging it out” and apologizing for hitting on each other’s boyfriends and the guys making up for lost drinking time by doing multiple keg stands.

In the end, a party isn’t a party without a few drunken messes stumbling around, breaking things and wondering why they’re never invited back again.  No one wants to be “that girl,” but for the sake of everyone’s entertainment, we might as well get those referee’s whistles blowin’.

What’s the worst party foul you’ve ever been called out on or witnessed? Tell us in the comments or, better yet, give us the deets in an anonymous morning after story.

I remember those naive high school days when puking during a rager meant that a) you couldn’t control your liquor and b) the party was over, for you. That’s why I was shocked one night during my freshman year of college, when my friend came back from the bathroom and proudly announced, “Oh, man, I just puked my brains out!”

I immediately switched to babysitter-mode. “Are you okay? Do we need to leave?” I asked, fully concerned.

“Nope!” My friend replied. “Got more room for beer now!”

At the time, this was an unprecedented occurrence to me. I’d never considered the theory of “puke and rally.”

A few years later, I’ve totally become acquainted with this practice. One summer, after a coworker tried unsuccessfully to light three consecutive shots of Sambuca on fire in mouth, I knew that that much booze so quickly was not going to be good. After the third shot went down, I booked it for the bathroom and barfed. A friend was worriedly knocking on the bathroom door, concerned as I had once been for my own friend. I opened the door, and she asked if I was okay. My response?

“Let’s rage!”

It wasn’t until the next day that I’d admitted to vomiting. The funny thing is that, at the time, this seemed logical. But as I’m writing this, I am already imagining the scathing comments this article will receive from disgusted CC readers.

The truth is, there are thousands of college girls across the country who have taken to this procedure. Not only is it easy to think you’re sobering up by sticking your finger down your throat midway through the night (newsflash, you really aren’t), but, in today’s media-crazed, looks-obsessed society, there’s a lot of pressure for women to keep the freshman (or sophomore, or junior, or senior) fifteen off. And a lot of the time, getting rid of the empty alcohol calories seems like the way to go.

It’s a lot easier to induce vomiting when you’re already close to naturally letting go, or when you’re buzzed enough not to feel your index finger scraping your tonsils. And then there’s the midnight munchies. You know, when that chicken parm calzone, side of curly fries, and half order of mozzarella sticks sobers you up enough to know that you’re going to want to throw up in the morning just thinking about all those calories. So, ladies, what do many of us do? We throw up.

Vomiting due to drinking doesn’t have the stigma that true bulimia has. Bulimia is a disease. Binge drinking in college is merely a social problem. Besides, there’s always the “that hit me way too hard” excuse. If you’ve thrown up from drinking, chances are, people will assume it was a freak incident, but if your friends suspect you of having an eating disorder, they will call for intervention. So making yourself throw up with the “well I was drunk” excuse doesn’t seem so bad.

The truth? Purging is purging. You can’t make excuses to your esophagus when it is being eaten away by the stomach acid you just conjured up. And if you’re drinking to excess every night and consistently blowing chunks before hitting the hay, you better write an apology letter to your liver as well.

So, ladies, let’s make a pact – let’s not over-do the binging, and let’s not rely on purging as a quick solution to our bad decisions. Besides, what happens when you run into a hot guy at the end of the night, and your breath smells (and tastes) like stale beer, vomit, and the lingering aromas of cheese fries?

So, let’s bring it all out in the open. Right here. Because you are not alone - we’ve all been there before.]

Hugging the Bowl:

You started the evening out with the girls and a few shots of vodka to the tune of Bon Jovi blaring from the stereo. Then you moved onto the party, where you couldn’t not play 10 rounds of flip cup, followed by a game of beer pong. You were feeling good – really good – so you decided to give into the boys and do a keg stand.

After all, you had to show them what you’re made of.

When your feet are firmly back on the ground it hits you: you are totally f**ked up. The room is spinning, the floor is rocking and all you can think about is getting home and dying.

But you don’t want anyone to think you are a wimp (because you’re not!), so you pull one of the girls aside and whisper, “I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go,” which comes out more like, “I’m <hiccup> tiiiired. I <hiccup> mthink I’mgomna <vurp> go.” Your friend offers to go with you.

You stumble home, run straight to the bathroom and strip down to your bra and underwear. Your friend brings you water in the bathroom as you crouch over the toilet and start spitting into the bowl. Your knees hurt already, but you are not leaving the bathroom until you puke, dammit.

Your head hurts. You feel like hell. You are never EVER drinking again. Please God, you pray, if you let me make it through tonight I will never drink this much again. Please god. PLEASE. I swear. No more alcohol. Ever.

And at that moment, you mean it.

You keep spitting into the toilet, opening your mouth and willing something other than saliva to come out. You try pulling the trigger (hey, it works for bulimics!), chugging water, or anything else that just might bring up all that beer.

You give up hope, grab the garbage can and begin to head back to your room when – YES! – it comes. Lots and lots of it. Beer, vodka, and the Jimmy Johns #6 you scarfed down for dinner. Vomiting has never felt so good. You welcome the heaves, celebrate the bile, and as quickly as it started you are done.

You are sweating. There are tears in your eyes, but sweet Jesus you feel great.

You pour yourself a glass of water, brush your teeth, grab the garbage can and head to your room where you quickly pass out.

When you wake up in the morning you feel great, and after some scrambled eggs and toast you are ready to hit the bottle again.

Come back next week for more moments of misery that we can all share. Like all those damn drunk texts.

Meet George The Giant. He’s a 7′ 3″ security guard auditioning in Chicago. His act was truly “out there.” George quips, “When you’re my size you have two choices; play basketball or be a freak…and I hate sports.”

Here’s George captivating the audience with his eyebrow raising talent.

Now remember people, the winner of this show gets $1 Million bucks and their own show in Las Vegas. So when people get moved on to the next round it means the judges think their talent is worthy of both prizes. Since Big George moved through, we can only assume the judges are crazy...or drunk.

Check both for The Hoff.

Where George lowered the expectations of the crowd and society in general, 71-year-old Paul Salos picked them up. He's a Frank Sinatra inspired singer and a genuine class act. Not only does this guy deserve the money but I'd probably pay to see him in concert. We're rooting for ya old buddy.

What did you think about last night, folks? Another evening of ho-hum talent or did you see promise somewhere I didn't?

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