When I was a wee lad
of about 6 years, I had a nasty sniffle
from the Big Storm in Brooklyn
(back in the 1960's). My Mom
kept giving me a teaspoon
full of cough syrup
, but it helped for about an hour, after which I returned to hacking up a lung for five. I got so pissed off
at spewing lung butter
that I took the bottle and downed about three-quarters of it.
It had a decent percentile of alcohol, and I ended up getting very buzzed and drunk. I started slurring my words, and my Mom freaked out because she thought I had a stroke. After she had me bundled up to rush to the hospital, I finally got through to her that I drank the cough syrup, and I began to laugh that crazy drunken laugh that can only end with you peeing your pants, which I proceeded to do.
Aside from the one time I did it on purpose to see what it was like, that was the only time I ever got drunk.