All photos by Kelly O except where noted
Kelly O chose her six favorite Drunk of the Week stars from 2012, and now YOU pick the winner! The drunk with the most votes gets to be on the cover of our upcoming Regrets issue (and who doesn't want to be on the cover of The Stranger? Nobody, that's who!).
Hey, even if it's your birthday, when the party's over, THE PARTY'S OVER. You don't wanna be "that guy"—when the host throws everybody out, this means you, too. I mean, that host was kind enough to throw the party in the first place, so if he or she wants you to clear out—just do it. Maybe you can't find your pants (or maybe you're only wearing a dirty diaper)—it doesn't matter. You need to hit the road, Jack!
Did you know that the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration estimates that there are around 1.5 million car accidents caused by white-tailed deer every year in the United States? This is especially true in states like Michigan, where this photo was taken. People have long debated whether hunting the animals effectively controls their population—if decreasing numbers really keeps them out of roadways, farms, or your garage, where they often drink too many cans of Miller Lite and then end up rolling around on the floor, laughing and moaning and asking you if you have any marijuana.
I met Mikey and Melisssaaaaah at a party in West Seattle at the Eagles Club 2643. Normally, the Eagles Club is filled with flirty old men and little old ladies with big Las Vegas hair. Not this night. The oldies were replaced by a younger crowd drinking and dancing while Brent Amaker and the Rodeo, My Goodness, and a guitar freak named Reignwolf played music. I missed Reignwolf, but I did meet Melisssaaaaah, who was really funny after she drank, and I quote, "a shhhlot of fuckin' vodkaaaaah!"
This was the year's best reader submission. Says submitter Toby: "That's Straw in the front, and Piglet, barfing, in the background. In Enumclaw, you don't dare leave a bottle of Roussanne unattended, or a little cloven-hoofed bastard will surely steal it."
Photo by B. Blankenship
You know, sometimes the line is so long for the bathroom at the house party, you might as well just stay in there. I mean, you're drinking warm Black Label from a can—you're just gonna have to pee again in like, what, five minutes?
I'm not sure how this drunk guy—who plays Mickey Mouse for tips on the Las Vegas Strip—doesn't get sued by multinational media conglomerate the Walt Disney Company. I mean, I don't WANT him to get sued, but gee willikers—he was deeeeee-RUNK! I saw him around noon, rolling around in front of Harrah's casino with a 22-ouncer of Michelob beer. Then, at about 7:30 a.m., when stumbling back from an all-night poker game, my friend spotted him passed out with a daiquiri in his hand on a pedestrian overpass by the MGM Grand with a policeman trying to shake him awake.