The fine folks at 40cozy.com have graciously provided us with three kick-ass prize packages consisting of one 40 oz. beer cozy each and an assortment of smaller cozys to go along with it for all your bitch friends who can't handle a forty. Here's all you have to do to get your hands on one...

• Send an email to stephen@gorillamask.net
• Put 40 oz cozy in the subject line
• Include your name and address
• Tell us your greatest/funniest/wildest 40 oz. story

That's it. The three best stories get a prize package. Note, that by sending in your story you are granting us and/or 40cozy.com permission to publish the story so change names if you have to and all that.

And as a show of good faith , I'll get things started...

Early in my college career I took to drinking 40 oz. beer exclusively. Colt 45 to be exact. I'm not really sure why. I'd like to think it was because they were cheap and I could buy more of them, but in reality it was most likely the wigger in me brought about by near-daily viewings of Menace II Society and the fact that I felt like a badass being the only one walking around a party with a giant brown paper bag. Either way, I would drink a couple of these things a night, coupled with any shots and whatnot that would be floating around. I don't really think I ever drank more than two forties a night. Except for one night that shall be the basis for this tale. I went to a smaller college located in the middle of nowhere. One in which nearly everyone left on the weekends leaving the place a virtual ghost town. A buddy of mine, fed up with sitting around every weekend, took to taking random road trips on the weekends to nowhere. He and his girlfriend would get in the car and just drive in some direction until it was time to turn around usually only leaving themselves with enough time to get home, shower and go to class Monday morning. One weekend I decided to go with them. You might think I made this decision because on this particular occasion his girlfriend's room mate was tagging along, but that's not the case. She was the opposite of fat in that she was grotesquely skinny. So much so that we had nicknamed her Olive Oil. I never thought she was anorexic at the time, but in hindsight I think she might have been. She also had notoriously disgusting bad breath. The kind that would make your clothes stink if you talked to her for too long. No, I just thought this would be a fun adventure. So the four of us left on Friday afternoon with a cooler full of beer including my two forties of Colt 45. At some point into the night, I'm not sure how far, I had finished said drinks and demanded they pull over for a third. After I purchased it and got back in the car the girls decided they wanted to "window shop" at the stores in the nearby shopping center. To this day I have no idea what the fuck they were looking at since it was just your standard shopping center with a Wal-Mart and all those kind of crappy stores that surround such a crappy store in a crappy small town, but whatever. I had no interest in joining them, so I stayed in the car. They locked me in the back seat with the child locks because supposedly I had started getting loud and belligerent. Did I mention that around this time I was also going though a "Screw you guys, I'm going home" phase? Well I was, and being locked in the back seat pissed me off to no end so I climbed out the driver's side window and started walking across the empty parking lot to go home. It didn't matter that I had no idea which way home was. Now here's where things get a little fuzzy and most of the rest of this is all heresay based on what I was told. When my gay-window-shopping friend saw me walking he patiently came after me. I SUPPOSEDLY started running from him. He ALLEGEDLY caught me at the ditch before the highway and THEY SAY I started fighting him. Around this time some IMAGINARY cops pulled up that MAY HAVE been called by the convenience store clerk. I do know for a fact that we weren't arrested, but SOME SAY they escorted us out of town and essentially banned us from ever returning. IN THEORY my friend's girlfriend was very angry and demanded that we just go home. And worst of all they LIED and SPREAD FALSE RUMORS that I hooked up with Olive Oil all the way home. Which all of that has to be bullshit because I live my alocolic life by one motto, and one motto only: If I don't remember it, it didn't happen. I do know this though...I woke up the next morning and my breath stank like a motherfucker.

Your story is better? Let's here it then...