And Brianna treated me like a leper every time she saw me.

It was the last party of the fall semester. I was a junior at 'Nova, and since my parents are pretty much teetotalers, I knew it was going to be my last opportunity to get hammered until mid-January. What made this party even more special was the presence of Brianna.

Brianna has blue eyes, blonde hair, and the biggest set of natural who-hahs ever gifted upon the female race. Needless to say, I wanted to score with her. Now, the hosts of this little shindig, being the typical poor college sort, had decided to stock up on Natural Light, (a.k.a. Natty Light). This swill sells for around $12 a case, about 12 bucks more than it is worth. No normal, rational human being would drink it. Being decidedly non-normal and seeking to become non-rational, I drank copious amounts. Soon, I was hitting the high teens in empties, and feeling very tingly. I had a bottle in each hand, and was alternating gulps. That's when it goes black.

The next thing I knew, I was in bed in my dorm, about five miles from the site of the party. I was also dressed in different clothes than I had been wearing the night before. Later, my roommate Jason informed me of my accomplishments for the night. A group of my friends, seeing my inebriated state, tried to lead me away from the booze and toward a warm bed. But, I was having none of that.

Brianna approached me, trying to get through to my pickled brain. Well, I must have thought she was coming over for a quick romp, because I flung myself toward her, in an attempt at a foreplay-type of BEARHUG (yes, I was that drunk). Well, instead I delivered a foreplay HEAD-BUTT that knocked her to the ground, and knocked all kindness--toward me--right out of her.

Somehow, Jason and the others got me into his battered 1988 Ford Festiva. As they pulled away, I decided to make a break for it. I seized the door handle, opened the door, and tried to fling myself onto the highway. Luckily, one of the other guys grabbed my legs and hauled me back in before I became street pizza.

Back at the apartment, I started demanding peanut butter. It was procured, and I naturally began flinging great heaping handfuls at the wall. After this blatant abuse of Peter Pan's peanutty product, I was led to my room, where Jason had apparently drawn the short straw to undress and reclothe me.

I thanked him by vomiting onto his bed and urinating on the floor.

Needless to say, I spent the next year and a half doing all the clean-up chores for our apartment, while everyday Jason would torment me by asking, "Hey Dean, want some peanut butter?"

And Brianna treated me like a leper every time she saw me.

Sigh! the dangers of Natty Light.