A few buds and I decided to camp out at a farm one night, just for fun and to remember the old days. We brought along enough of our Pals Cap’ Morgan and Mr. Daniels to drink ourselves blind, which we nearly did. We set a bonfire by one of the old barns and just sat there talking about life, women and whatever else came to us at the time. It was a good time, all we did was drink and chat until we drank a bit too much to keep an inspired conversation going.
We sat down on our chairs and thought it would be fun to line down a few targets and shoot them off a fence. No one would admit to being a crap shot, not even while drunk, so we just went along with it making a mess out of a decent bit of the wooden fence. The property is owner didn’t mind much that we riddled it with bullets holes, he said “It was full of termites anyways and I’ve been meaning to get rid of that old piece of crap”.
Our target became the fence, drunk as we were it was quite a feat to hit it or even be able to tell if we did. After a while it became apparent that the horses in the small stable nearby had gotten riled up with our shooting, they were trashing about their pen and by this point we were even drunker than before. The owner decided to go calm the animals down while the rest of us either went to sleep or drank ourselves in.
This isn’t much of a story so far, but that’s because I haven’t gotten to the good parts. My drunk buddy went to open the gates to the pen to calm down his horses, but let them that way as he staggered back into his tent. I ended up waking to a horse chewing on my hair, so my first reaction was to scream, and drunk as I was, pull on my hair. The horse ended up taking a chunk so large that it justified walking around with a cowboy hat.
I passed out on the ground and woke up covered in slobber, a couple of the guys sleeping nearby woke up with the ruckus and scared away the horses. They were young and a pair of little wussies to boot, so we ended up running behind the horses a good bit before realizing that we not only had a car but that the ranch was fenced, the animals had nowhere to go.
Then the drinks came a callin’ and we ended up throwing up from the run, one of them in particular laughed his heart out “Why were we chasing horses!?” he was right to laugh, though. We walked back to our little campsite, had a drink of the last left in our bottles and went to sleep.
It all seems pretty harmless until I tell you about the next morning. The ones going after the horses woke up with a massive rash in our hands, feet and even faces. It was bad enough that we scratched ourselves bloody and only when we drove back to the house did we see a massive ditch filled with poison Ivy, how the hell did we fall in it without noticing? I don’t know, I was real drunk.