Scatter
12-05-2005, 12:41 AM
"Well, they did it on Jackass!"
Those 6 words.
It only took those 6 little words to get me into this whole debacle. Did I think it was possible? Honestly, no, I didn't. I honestly thought I would be out before I was even half way through. I thought it was a physical impossibility! Well, 4 friends and I were going to find out for sure. The bet was made, the gauntlet was thrown. The last man standing wins. It was time for the 4 litre (1 gallon) milk jug challenge.
In January of 2002, after watching an episode of Jackass on MTV four buddies and I decided that we should try to drink a gallon of milk in an hour. Sounds stupid? It sure was, but winters in Canada make people do some stupid things. They failed on Jackass, they couldn't do it, but that's because they didn't have the pure willpower to do it! But we did, or at least we thought we did. We picked a date (the following weekend), and used the event as an excuse to throw a house party.
Milk choices were left up to the drinker. Now I'm a man who loves drinking, especially milk. I can a litre with dinner, easily. So I thought that 4 litres in an hour would be difficult, nearly impossible even, but still achievable. I had my edge, skim milk. Many can't stand the watered down taste, but I grew up on the stuff and I knew that skim milk was my secret weapon. Others in our challenge went the sweet route. Two of the guys picking flavoured milk, one chocolate, and one strawberry, a suicidal choice as far as I was concerned. The third picked full fat milk, being his personal favourite. Finally the fourth guy followed my lead picked skim. He thought that a room temperature skim would be easier to down, so the milk wasn't refrigerated after purchasing it on the day of the competition.
So the night of our competition arrived. Eating very little throughout the day, we were all prepared for our bet. Partygoers started to take some bets on who they thought would “pop” first. Of course everyone there thought we were idiots, and we weren't in any position to disagree, but everything is more exciting when you have some money riding on it. Pride was on the line, to the victor goes the spoils, and to the loser goes the spoiled milk of defeat.
Here were the rules. You had one hour to finish all the milk. We had a time keeper/judge who would announce the countdown. You could use the washroom as needed, but your milk had to be held by an impartial third-party. If you threw up, you lose. No exceptions. And finally the most important rules of all; no poking, no punching, and no prodding of the milk drinker.
I knew my strategy. The plan was to have half the jug consumed after 20 minutes, leaving me with 40 minutes to finish the rest. The first litre went down in mere minutes; litre two was almost finished as the first 10 minutes had elapsed. I was well ahead of schedule.
Chocolate was drinking his milk like it was going out of style; he couldn’t pour it down his throat fast enough.
Strawberry was banking on the gross out factor to limit his competition. He was taking his time, hoping everyone else would knock themselves out of the contest.
Warm skim drank about 2.5 litres almost immediately, then sat back to let it all "adjust". He wasn’t looking very good.
Homogenized seemed to be keeping pace with myself, but being the smallest guy in the challenge, was the favourite to be the first to pop.
Well, Homogenized didn’t disappoint, and quickly decided that homo-milk was the wrong route to go. He was the first victim of too much milk, a mere 15 minutes into the competition. After finishing 1.5 litres of milk, he ran for the washroom. A series of boo's rose up from the rest of the room, and Homogenized started up his own porcelain symphony.
One guy was out, four guys were left.
Now sounds travel very well room to room in my place, and while Homogenized was making his milk fueled exit Chocolate started feeling uneasy. The reverse milk orchestra in the washroom seemed to be turning and churning Chocolate’s stomach, unfortunately though, the washroom was already full. Standing up, and dumping his milk in the process, Chocolate stormed outside. On my snow filled deck, on his hand and knees, in the middle of January, Chocolate made his offering to the bushes. Cleanup wasn't necessary as it all immediately froze to whatever the chocolate slop had hit. Not a big deal though, it was nothing that couldn't be solved by a few shovelfuls of snow, and a thorough hosing in the spring.
Two guys out, and three were still competing.
Chocolate and Homogenized both “finished up” at the same time. With their faces full of the sheepish look of failure, they cleaned themselves up the best they could, and sat down to watch the rest of the competition they had just lost.
A quick lift of the milk jug told me that I had less than 2 litres to go, and about 35 minutes on the clock. I looked over at Strawberry; he asked how I was doing.
"Feeling pretty good," I lied. I felt like crap. I wasn't 100% full, I just felt saturated. Warm skim didn't look so good, but he was hanging in there like a champ.
Those 6 words.
It only took those 6 little words to get me into this whole debacle. Did I think it was possible? Honestly, no, I didn't. I honestly thought I would be out before I was even half way through. I thought it was a physical impossibility! Well, 4 friends and I were going to find out for sure. The bet was made, the gauntlet was thrown. The last man standing wins. It was time for the 4 litre (1 gallon) milk jug challenge.
In January of 2002, after watching an episode of Jackass on MTV four buddies and I decided that we should try to drink a gallon of milk in an hour. Sounds stupid? It sure was, but winters in Canada make people do some stupid things. They failed on Jackass, they couldn't do it, but that's because they didn't have the pure willpower to do it! But we did, or at least we thought we did. We picked a date (the following weekend), and used the event as an excuse to throw a house party.
Milk choices were left up to the drinker. Now I'm a man who loves drinking, especially milk. I can a litre with dinner, easily. So I thought that 4 litres in an hour would be difficult, nearly impossible even, but still achievable. I had my edge, skim milk. Many can't stand the watered down taste, but I grew up on the stuff and I knew that skim milk was my secret weapon. Others in our challenge went the sweet route. Two of the guys picking flavoured milk, one chocolate, and one strawberry, a suicidal choice as far as I was concerned. The third picked full fat milk, being his personal favourite. Finally the fourth guy followed my lead picked skim. He thought that a room temperature skim would be easier to down, so the milk wasn't refrigerated after purchasing it on the day of the competition.
So the night of our competition arrived. Eating very little throughout the day, we were all prepared for our bet. Partygoers started to take some bets on who they thought would “pop” first. Of course everyone there thought we were idiots, and we weren't in any position to disagree, but everything is more exciting when you have some money riding on it. Pride was on the line, to the victor goes the spoils, and to the loser goes the spoiled milk of defeat.
Here were the rules. You had one hour to finish all the milk. We had a time keeper/judge who would announce the countdown. You could use the washroom as needed, but your milk had to be held by an impartial third-party. If you threw up, you lose. No exceptions. And finally the most important rules of all; no poking, no punching, and no prodding of the milk drinker.
I knew my strategy. The plan was to have half the jug consumed after 20 minutes, leaving me with 40 minutes to finish the rest. The first litre went down in mere minutes; litre two was almost finished as the first 10 minutes had elapsed. I was well ahead of schedule.
Chocolate was drinking his milk like it was going out of style; he couldn’t pour it down his throat fast enough.
Strawberry was banking on the gross out factor to limit his competition. He was taking his time, hoping everyone else would knock themselves out of the contest.
Warm skim drank about 2.5 litres almost immediately, then sat back to let it all "adjust". He wasn’t looking very good.
Homogenized seemed to be keeping pace with myself, but being the smallest guy in the challenge, was the favourite to be the first to pop.
Well, Homogenized didn’t disappoint, and quickly decided that homo-milk was the wrong route to go. He was the first victim of too much milk, a mere 15 minutes into the competition. After finishing 1.5 litres of milk, he ran for the washroom. A series of boo's rose up from the rest of the room, and Homogenized started up his own porcelain symphony.
One guy was out, four guys were left.
Now sounds travel very well room to room in my place, and while Homogenized was making his milk fueled exit Chocolate started feeling uneasy. The reverse milk orchestra in the washroom seemed to be turning and churning Chocolate’s stomach, unfortunately though, the washroom was already full. Standing up, and dumping his milk in the process, Chocolate stormed outside. On my snow filled deck, on his hand and knees, in the middle of January, Chocolate made his offering to the bushes. Cleanup wasn't necessary as it all immediately froze to whatever the chocolate slop had hit. Not a big deal though, it was nothing that couldn't be solved by a few shovelfuls of snow, and a thorough hosing in the spring.
Two guys out, and three were still competing.
Chocolate and Homogenized both “finished up” at the same time. With their faces full of the sheepish look of failure, they cleaned themselves up the best they could, and sat down to watch the rest of the competition they had just lost.
A quick lift of the milk jug told me that I had less than 2 litres to go, and about 35 minutes on the clock. I looked over at Strawberry; he asked how I was doing.
"Feeling pretty good," I lied. I felt like crap. I wasn't 100% full, I just felt saturated. Warm skim didn't look so good, but he was hanging in there like a champ.