In the story below, we have secretly replaced the words "Binks" with "Joel" and "London, England" with "Plainfield, NJ". Let's see if our readers can tell the difference...

[Noreen Lombardo]: Gee, that sounds just like Joel. That rat-bastard - I had to carry him for 3 blocks!

[Sondra]: Get the fuck up and go to bed already, Joel!

[XXXJoel]: (lying on the sidewalk) Whafrrmmmp. (someone kicks him) Choad! (jumps up and barks at passing car) Fuckers! (collapses on sidewalk, yet again) Grrnnnddssst.

[Jim Lombardo]: Dude. Dude! Dude? Joel is that you?

-s

Subject: Binks' night at Dal and Leaf's... From: Gonzo Date: 1 October 96 About a half our after I got here (we were all doing tequila slammers), we all decided that it would be better for Binks to have a nap for an hour. We put him onto the couch, and 20 seconds later, he did the Jack in the Box and popped back in the family room. I tried to convince him that a nap would *really* be in order, and Dal and I drug him back to the couch after we "allowed" him to take the piss that he really had to take. Instead of trying to get him up the stairs to the loo (Darsy, does this ring a bell?), we decided to grab him under both arms and walked outside to the garden. He unzipped, whipped it out, and suddenly couldn't perform with a crowd watching, so I walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. That seemed to do the trick. We carried him back in and threw him down on the couch. The jack in the box, on the couch, off the couch thing happened about 5 more times, and after he promised me that he would stay down for an hour and I promised him I would wake him up in an hour, I left him for a final time. 3 minutes later, he was back in here mumbling something about how he didn't want to miss anything (although there was nothing realy going on). I took him back to the couch, and Leaf and Dal had a talk with him, and although I don't know what they said to him, all three came back in. We sat around talking for about a half hour, and Binks asked if he could borrow a few tissues. No prob, Dal said. This is where it got kinda ugly. Before he used the tissues, he asked Dal for the wastepaper basket [note: the exact words were: "Dal, do you mind if I throw up in your wastepaper basket? Brrrlaapppp!"] Very little came out and he wiped his mouth off. It was at this time Dal hinted at me to get the useful plastic thing just outside of the back door. I went and got the bucket just in time. To make a long story short, with Leaf in the back of the room, covering her face and holding her breath, Binks let go of the tequila he was desperately trying to keep in. About 20 minutes later, Binks was all done and was ready to do tequila slammers again. We tried to convince him otherwise, but he insisted on it. A slammer later, Binks was on the floor, with Dal putting him the "recovery position". We thought he was down for the count, but a few minutes later, he was bouncing around again. It was at this point Leaf, Dal, Jaz, and I had a group meeting because he wasn't passing out and we couldn't control him anymore. Oh, for the record, Binks is about 6'3" and very lanky. It was decided that we couldn't handle him anymore and went to plan B. Plan B was to get him to a hospital. We called the hospital, we rolled him onto the curb, [note: For the record, he wasn't out there unattended on the curb as Dal made up this elaborate plan to meet the ambulance crew when they showed up but still remain anonymous.] The ambulance arrived about 5 minutes later, and since he wasn't "technically" hurt, the ambulance wouldn't take him. So the next procedure for the ambulance was to call the cops. In London, if a person is arrested for being drunk in public, the person is taken to the police department, put in the drunk tank, but NOT charged, fingerprinted, or fined. We looked at this as our best option because they could throw him in a cell, he wouldn't be booked, he wouldn't get hurt doing things like banging his head on a table, and wouldn't be fined. The police arrived, and they took him to the Nick for him to spend the next 6 hours there, the maximum amount of time the Nick will hold a drunk. Next morning: Dal awakes at 5:00am and goes down to the Nick to pick him up. When I awoke at 7:00am, Binks was rather tired (wonder why). He has a few cigarettes, and hits the sack. He then surfaces around 5:30pm (the lucky bastard. He got more sleep than we all have had combined for the past week.) So, now we're all just sitting around the family room, smoking cigarettes. Ahhhh, the good life. Gonz