“I’m not proud of it by no means but after that night and my hospital bills it would be nice to get something else out of it. Lol.”
Listen. We’re not exactly breakers of news around these parts. We hear about things, we let you know them, and we dig through the internet’s murkier basements to find about high alcohol beers or cotton candy flavored vodkas, but this isn’t exactly the Washington Post here. The closest we come to breaking news is when we purposely misrepresent a news article because we’re feeling like being kind of dickish that particular day. We’re not the kind of site that people go to when they want to be the first to hear about some Earth shattering development, though we’d not mind being the kind of site that people would offer free beers to so we can review them for them (hint hint, America).
That’s why we’re writing a quick AFFotD in order to tell you about an edit we recently made to one of our more popular article thanks to an email sent in by an intrepid reader. He informed us that our article, at the time listing the eight highest BAC readings of all time, was a bit inaccurate, because he had just the previous weekend drank himself to a healthy (editor’s note: no the opposite of that word you just used) 1.00 BAC, meaning that a full 1% of all the blood in his body was alcohol.
To put it in perspective, his BLOOD was about half as alcoholic as this beer.
Do we know if this is true? No. Is it true? Eh, we hope, maybe. He wanted us to use his real name, he gave us his details of the day (our main concerns are that he remembers what he drank a bit too well and, honestly, that the email address he sent to us lists a different name than the one he told us to use for the article). But we so rarely get a chance to break a story! So anyway, here is the story of Kentucky resident Robert Stewart, which is possibly his real name or it’s possibly someone who really likes Rob Stewart taking us for a fucking ride, but yeah. Our exclusive story about a 1.00 BAC.
Editor’s note: At this point it should go without saying that this is not something you should ever try to match, because you will die. Actively die. Not, ha ha, oh man, this much booze will kill you, ha ha ha, no we mean it, HALF of this booze is what most doctors refer to as a lethal fucking blood alcohol content, so, like, just drink until you black out and stop there, okay?
An AFFotd Exclusive: Robert Stewart and the 1.00 BAC
On March 28th, 2015, Robert Stewart, if that is his real name, a self-described 23 year old, 180 pound resident of Somerset, Kentucky rolled out of bed at 9AM with, and we’re quoting him directly here, “intentions to have a few beers and…watch the NCAA Men’s Basketball tournament to see who was going to the Final Four against the UK Wildcats.” (This was before they had made the Final Four, also before they lost the ensuing weekend. We shudder to think how drunk Robert got after that Wisconsin game. #RIPRobert.)
To further quote good old Bobby, “Being a smartass I told myself I was going to drink every Bud Light in the fridge since I didn’t pay for them and I knew it would aggravate the guy who actually bought them.” This is what we call “an ominous beginning.” After drinking a decent amount of these, he remembered that he had been given a quart of apple pie moonshine, and a pint of 165 proof pure moonshine, at which point he said, and again, this is a direct quote, “Fuck it, if I’m going to cheer on UK tonight I might as well do it right and not half ass it.”
Or half shoe it
Robert estimates that the quart of apple pie moonshine took about two hours to drain, which by our calculations would actually put Robert in the .7 “oh God what have you done” territory of BAC readings. He left his house at this point to go to a friends, where he continued to drink a bunch of Bud Lights, which at this point were keeping his BAC down if anything else, spending an hour polishing off the 165 proof moonshine, which for those of you that can’t manage to divide an alcohol’s proof by 2 to get the percentage of alcohol involved, is somewhere between 82.5% alcohol and 300% alcohol, depending on your math skills.
Robert Claims that by this time, the game was starting, which would have put his drinking time at about 12 hours—that means that he either grossly exaggerated how quickly he drank the moonshine, or, more likely, that he was so drunk that he warped time and space and the concept of hours became relative.
Sometimes you just gotta google “Drunk Dr. Who” and let the internet take care of the rest.
After his 26th beer is when Robert claims to finally have blacked out, somehow managing to call for an ambulance while also calling the local fire chief, who he knew personally. When he came to in the ambulance, he said, “Fuck, what’s the score?” and was on his merry way to the goddamn hospital. They took his blood before pushing fluids, which doesn’t seem like the most prudent action, but did keep his BAC reading amped up to a perfect 1.00 score. He stayed with the fine folks of Lake Cumberland Regional Hospital, where he was told he should be dead, though it is entirely possible that he did die from the alcohol consumed that day, and that this is a sort of Sixth Sense situation, and Bruce Willis is telling us about that time he drank so much he died and we’re the mortal element here to let the world know.
So there you have it, America, the story of a dead man who drank so much that he died, but who we were able to summon through email to tell his tale. For the rest of you out there, don’t try to match this. Like, sure, we’d probably write about it, but we can’t write about it if you die for real, and then we get sued, again, for breaking internet law, and it’s just a whole mess of a situation. So this is your friendly reminder that you should always get drunk (never let the demons show their faces) but make sure to stop only four or five glasses of whiskey after you are told to leave the restaurant and, Goddamn it Johnny, why do you have to be like this, this is why I got custody of the children, they can’t see you like this, go home, go home, I can’t believe I once loved you. Or, uh. Drink responsibly.
Yeah, that last one.
To this day I’m not proud of that night man. It has been close to 5 years since I reached out to you stupidly wanting to be on this list. Don’t delete it by no means or update it. I use this now to educate others of my stupidity. Yes I still have the medical records to back my claim but I don’t even care about that and this message isn’t about that. The 1st place holder is dead. I’m not (yet) so that makes me the highest LIVING medically recorded. I’m now 29 years old and have had numerous operations within the last 6 months because of my drinking history that is going to put me in my grave by 33 if I’m lucky. If you don’t believe me then reach out personally and I’ll tell you the email address I used to originally reach out to you years ago. If I don’t answer, text me because I’m driving somewhere in the United States. I now own and partially operate (when I’m physically able ) a successful trucking company in the USA. It’s all I have left to build in what time I have left to leave to my now 3 year old son. Use your platform to educate others about my massive mistake and lets just frigin hope someone out there accepts the message I’m sending. It’s not worth it by no means. 606-872-7267 is my personal cell. -Robert Stewart