Good god, I got Iced a few times last night and man am I paying for it this morning.
A friend of mine had a housewarming in Brooklyn last night and, as a lovely surprise, no one told me we were playing a game I haven't played since college called ICE.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with ICE, it involves being embarrassed, getting caught of guard and being forced to drink. All the lovely stuff to happen on a rooftop.
Basically, you have to "carry" on you all night for protection from other people who are "carrying". To "carry" you have to have a Smirnoff Ice hidden somewhere on your body. To "Ice" someone, you present them with the Smirnoff Ice when they're not paying attention and able to run away. If you catch them, they have to get on one knee and chug the Smirnoff Ice as fast as they can. If someone tries to "ice" you and you're "carrying", you pull out yours and present it to the person who just tried to ice you. You still have to drink yours but at least they have to do one with you.
The trick is to keep a tally on who has how many and who just used up all of theirs and hasn't refilled their pockets yet.
Where's the embarrassment you say? well, have YOU ever bought Smirnoff Ice? Theirs no way to buy it and seem cool, masculine, fun... you're just "that guy". I think the clerk was just happy he sold a sixer of it. When you buy it you feel the need to make up an excuse or tell him it's for a very juvenile, albeit fun, drinking game but you only end up sounding like the guy who buys the weird porno at 2am and tells the clerk, "my girlfriend and I are um...we're uh...we watch it together."
Laaaaaame!
So yeah, after about 10 PBRs, 3 unwanted Smirnoff Ices, and gobs of spinach artichoke dip, I feel like someone raped my stomach.
