Why Dingo shouldn't drink part 2:

The first semester I ever taught (at a junior college), most of my students were in their early-mid 20s. I challenged the class that if so many of them got A's I'd let them get me sloppy drunk, despite the fact I hadn't really drank since the fore-posted Vermont hotel incident. Of course they worked their asses off and I had to endure a bar-run of everyone's favorite drink. At one point, I slipped out to jog off the alcohol in the parking lot, only to be tackled by one of my students who had been an all-state high school football player. I later threatened to spear someone with a poolstick, claiming to be a Mohican. On the way home, I got into an argument at a Taco Bell drive-thru and tried to beat up the menu. While I was driven home, I yelled at all the passing farmhouses claiming their inhabitants were inbreds.

Some people are happy drunks. Not me.