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TIFUpate: allowing my coworker to set me up

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TIFU by breaking my foot, having my dick stolen in a tgreesome then setting my house on fire

Edit: yeah I get a lot of people are just going to be angry just because of who I am and that's your own issue, its a bit sad you let that make you upset to be honest when you can live your life. But the reporting me as suicidal is boring and overplayed if you want to be an ass please do it in a way that's funny at the very least

As stupid as this sounds this is all true, alcohol was obviously involved and this actually happened yesterday.

Me and my friends managed to win some bottles of bubbly and a vip booth at the gay bar doing a quiz on Monday, so obviously rallied our friends together. We were living the high life, getting more drunk then we had any business being ordering round after round. In the midst of dancing I slipped off the platform of our booth and my foot fully got smashed as I fell, the pain was way worse than I thought it should be but I was drunk and in the midst of pulling so I decided I would just be fine and I spent the night hobbling. I figured I'd just sprained my ankle again and I was being silly. I was being an idiot mind you, just not the way I thought I was. We all just laughed it off determined to have a good night, I'm known for being clumsy anyway.

A fwb and one of his friends ended up spending most of the evening together and we all hit it off, as the club closed we somehow got back to mine, polished off my good whiskey and had some good old adult fun.

An important note is that I'm a transgender guy, and until I can get a particular surgery I have a detachable prothsetic I use for my own comfort, but I very much see it as part of me and its very freaky to not wear it. I had it fixed in my boxers and it came off when they did. So I wake up the morning after and I can't stand at all, my foot has balloned up and I realise I need to get my roommates to take me to the hospital. I scrounge around and find that someone took my boxers and left their own... my fucking dick got stolen! So after a brief freakout about how surreal this situation was I shamefully message around trying to locate it then check my flat group chat.

I'd gotten so wasted I'd blacked out and tried to make chicken wings, falling asleep with them still in our old gas oven. Thankfully the fire alarm (I'd slept though) rose them to action and they put out the literal raging fire on top of our oven and disposed of my cremated dinner, but of course they were not happy. Our kitchen is a state. The only thing saving me from being fully in the doghouse is how pitiful I am having to crawl everywhere.

And now I'm on crutches though my birthday and new years, out of work for weeks, dickless and avoiding drinking for the foreseeable future. And it goes without saying, I'm also thoroughly embarrassed.

TL;DR: got so drunk I broke my foot in the club and didn't realise, proceeded to have a threesome regardless and woke up without my boxers, my dick or my dignity, to find I had set my house on fire cooking chicken wings

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