ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

Australia has a toxic relationship with the grog, which means even the most mundane of events can be tarted up with the addition of alcohol and a few choice rules regarding it’s consumption.

A national favourite being Election Night drinking games where buzzwords, results and other triggers mean you and your friends are forced to down a shot upon hearing or seeing said trigger.

Here at The Advocate, our editorial team has researched every Election Night drinking game and synthesised it into the Ultimate Election Night Drinking Game – enjoy!

The Deaf, Dumb And Blind Marathon

5pm: Organise to meet up with a few good friends down the road at a local pub. Make sure they’re the type of mate you can easily have a one on one chat with without it getting tiresome or tedious. A maximum of four including you is a good starting point.

5:15pm: Start drinking. Make sure to go in rounds so if somebody in your party fails to keep up with the drinking pace, peer pressure them and accuse them of being a homosexual until they forcefully finish their mainstream beer.

5:20pm: More beers.

5:30pm: More beers.

5:45pm: More beers.

6pm: Polls officially close in the Eastern States, Lord Howe Island, Norfolk Island and the Australian Antarctic Territories. More beers.

6:15pm: First mention of getting some cocaine means more beers. Drink up.

6:30pm: More beers.

6:41pm: Cocaine located, whip around fails to net the nessecary amount for two grams so ask one friend to cover half the transaction until the following Thursday. More beers.

6:53pm: More beers. First member of your drinking team is allowed to use the bathroom.

6:59pm: Elect to go to the bathroom, saying you need to take a shit so your mates don’t rip on your for having a tiny lady bladder.

7:01pm: Make yourself vomit into the toilet but try to do it silently and in time with flushing the toilet to nobody knows what you’re up to. Close the toilet when you’re finished and put your head in the palms of your hands and wonder why you keep doing this to yourself.

7:04pm: Arrive back at the table to find some coward as ordered a bowl of wedges. You’re now double parked on near-flat and warm Victoria Bitter. Drink those up and be ready for the next shout, which is yours.

7:09pm: Anthony Green says ‘democracy sausage’ which means you need to have a shot of tequila. Look over your shoulder to see if anybody on the table noticed. They did and now you need to buy 4 shots and carry them back to the table.

7:10pm: You swear at Anthony Green and have the shot.

7:32pm: The cocaine arrives at the pub and you each begin awkwardly shuffling off to the disabled bathroom one by one.

7:51pm: Everybody has somehow found a second wind just as more close friends, their friends that aren’t really your friends with and the people they’re currently having sex with, turn up at the pub to join you.

8:10pm: Anthony Green says ‘democracy sausage’ again but mercifully it’s not your round.

8:12pm: Have another shot of tequila.

8:21pm: More beers – but the shout has broken up now and you choose to pair up with a mate who can drink way way faster than you, meaning death is imminent.

8:21pm: Somebody offers your a cigarette and even though you don’t smoke, you say ‘sure’ and join them outside in the cold.

8:22pm: Have two puffs and feel the world start to spin violently. Hold onto something strong like your life and dignity depend on it.

8:51pm: You feel your phone vibrate for the first time in your pocket. Ignore the six unanswered messages from your partner and see a push notification from the Guardian app that says Bill Shorten has won the election.

8:52pm: Go back inside and loudly tell your mates that Bill Shorten has won the election, only to see it’s up on the big screen and they’ve all been talking about it for the past 20 minutes.

9:01pm: Just when you thought the shame would never wear off, your shout partner plonks some sort of spirit and coke down on the table in front of you.

9:03pm: Create your last memory of the evening. Everything else will be a blur herein.

From here, what you do is up to you because it doesn’t really matter. You won’t remember.

More to come.

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