12:00 P.M., LOCAL BURGER, 714 VERMONT ST.

 I’m sitting in Local Burger chewing my elk burger and washing it down with organic wine while I think of the day ahead of me.

 It’s the Friday of fall break, and I am trying to go out in Lawrence for 24 hours straight. I’ve spent many long nights out and have had many all-nighters, but I want to push the limits of my body and see if I can go out for a whole day straight.

 I finish the burger. Very little flavor, but it definitely tastes healthy. The wine is good, though. I sit at a window seat to get a good view of outside while I finish my wine. I’m a little self-conscience because I am wearing a grey hoody and a beanie. I don’t look the type to be sipping wine at noon at a burger joint. I get over it quickly.

 It’s now very cloudy, threatening to rain. Funny because it was sunny at 11:59 a.m. The moment I start my little experiment the clouds roll in. I take it as a bad omen and am overcome with fear that this day will suck. I continue anyway.

12:30 P.M., ARIZONA TRADING CO., 736 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

  I’ve been wanting a vintage-style coat, so I try my luck at Arizona Trading Co. I’m quickly taken with a brown corduroy peacoat with lining like a crappy 1970s couch. It’s a good price, too — $17.50.

 I sift the store’s collection of T-shirts but find nothing I like, so I go back to the jacket and model it again in the mirror. Still unsure, I ask some girls who are shopping. They say it doesn’t accentuate my ass. I decide my ass doesn’t need accentuating and buy the coat anyway.

1:05 P.M., SPENCER MUSEUM OF ART, 1301 MISSISSIPPI ST.

 It’s still early and there’s not much to do, so I go to take a gander at some of the exhibits at the Spencer. I walk in to see the Graphic Imperative exhibit in the central court, which is displaying propaganda-like posters.

 The exhibit has posters about rape, war, religion and the Holocaust. I find it a little disturbing that they’ve set up a place where children can draw their own propaganda posters. One child draws a ‘no’ symbol around what looks like a penis, but maybe it’s just a hot dog. I quickly turn away from whatever it is and move on.

2:03 P.M., NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM, 1345 JAYHAWK BLVD.

 I used to walk past Dyche Hall all the time never knowing there was a museum inside. Though the museum is small, it has a few interesting things; dinosaurs bones found in Kansas come to mind.

 I’m crushed to discover that my favorite exhibit — one that shows the inside of a beehive — is closed because all the bees died of nosema apis, some sort of horrible bee parasite. I make my way through the museum and have a stare-down with a rattlesnake. Luckily the snake is behind glass.

2:53 P.M., SOUTH PARK, 11TH AND MASSACHUSETTS STREETS

 Needing to burn a little time before my girlfriend, Laura, gets off work, I head to South Park. I get some entertainment from a few gothy high school kids playing with a pink sombrero in the gazebo while I sit and read Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five to past the time.

3:56 P.M., THE REPLAY LOUNGE, 946 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 Getting cold, I start walking to find a coffee shop. I get detoured on the way when I remember the Replay has free pinball going on. I duck inside and grab a can of PBR and play Indiana Jones and Ripley’s Believe it or Not pinball.

 It’s been a while since I’ve last played, and I’ve forgotten how great it is to properly navigate a multi-ball, when five balls start coming at you at once. I leave after what seems like 15 games.

5:03 P.M., LA PARRILLA, 814 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

  I pick up Laura and we go to La Parrilla to get some grub. I get the enchilada ranchera and Laura gets the enchilada suiza. Mine is good but hers has some sort of white sauce and is much better. The grass is always greener with me, though.

 We also order a pitcher of lime margaritas that never seems to end. We have a window seat and relax and people watch while we drink.

6:56 P.M., THE WHEEL, 507 W. 14TH ST.

 Laura and I try to rock out Jaybowl, the bowling alley on campus, but it’s closed for the break. Lame. I also toy with the idea of a tattoo, but Laura puts her foot down. We go to The Wheel instead to try and catch Late Night in the Phog on TV.

  We walk in and it’s old people galore. With students gone for fall break and a class reunion of 1985 or something going on, it’s wall-to-wall old guys trying to relive their youth. There are only two women other than my girlfriend there, making me wonder where all these guys’ wives are.

 We each order a way-too-expensive can of beer, and to my dismay, The Wheel is airing baseball. We finish our beers and get the hell out of there.

7:47 P.M., HENRY’S ON EIGHTH, 11 E. EIGHTH ST.

 We go to Henry’s to grab a drink and hopefully some coffee later on. I order a double whiskey and diet and Laura gets a double vodka and cranberry. Drinks are too strong and almost painful to take sips from.

 We sit by the window again while nursing our drinks. I love being a voyeur from the comfort of indoors. We finish our drinks and I buy a coffee to-go because I can tell it’s going to be a long night.

9:27 P.M., I-BAR, 945 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 The plan is to see Cowboy Indian Bear, one of my favorite local bands, at the Jackpot. Because it’s still a little early, we head next door to I-Bar. I’ve never been here before, but it is pretty nice. We are the only customers in the bar, but it may be closing for the night soon.

 I order a couple of bottles of Boulevard Wheat and the bartender doesn’t take my tip. I offer again and he refuses. I find it a little strange but I don’t argue.

 We walk toward the plush leather couches in the back, and I spill beer all over myself as I plop down way too hard. I have an inebriated laugh at myself while Laura rolls her eyes.

10:32 P.M., JACKPOT MUSIC HALL, 943 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 Yes! A crowd. I easily see more people here then I have all night. It’s a nice change. I grab a couple of “whatever’s cheapests” from the bar and relax on a bench up front.

 I see Marty Hillard and Beau Bruns of Cowboy Indian Bear and give them a quick, “Hey, how’s it going?” I try to convince Marty to let me introduce the band on stage, but he would have none of that.

 Cowboy Indian Bear comes on and plays their usual good set of poppy music. They have a guest singer on a few songs, which is a nice addition.

 Around the time the band comes on I decide to cut myself off. When I need to lean against a speaker to keep my balance, I figure it’s time to stop. I still have 12 hours to go, and I’ve been drunk-texting random people. Cell phones should have breathalyzers.

1:45 A.M., HOOKAH HOUSE, 730 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 Tired of drinking and knowing last call is on its way anyway, we stop by Hookah House. The interior is as smoky as ever and there is a decent amount of people there. I plop onto a modified couch cushion on the floor and order strawberry-kiwi shisha.

 I knew a few people, but keep my distance in order to prevent any embarrassing drunken moments. We smoke hookah and drink large quantities of water to help hydrate, but we need a quick late-night snack.

2:40 A.M., JIMMY JOHN’S, 922 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 We smell very smoky now with smoke soaking into our hair and clothes. We head to Jimmy John’s because it’s about the only thing open. I order a turkey and provolone. I’ve never been there before, and not to sound like an advertisement, but they are freaky fast. I have my sandwich before I get my change. We sit down to devour our sandwiches.

 I reach in my pocket and find a strange hat. How the hell did that get in there? The brown, beige and orange striped hat matches perfectly with my new jacket, and I switch hats without thinking the hat could be infected with lice.

3:23 A.M., JAVA BREAK, 17 E. SEVENTH ST.

 Java Break is empty. I get biscuits and gravy and a chai latte and we claim the graffiti room as our own. I grab a few games and get my ass kicked in Battleship, yet I reclaim a little of my manhood while playing Hungry Hungry Hippos.

 After the food and drink, we lie around talking half-asleep bullshit, until a balding man of about 350 pounds comes in and sits next to us. He has the entire place to choose a seat, why does he sit next to us at 4:30 in the morning? I don’t want to find out; we leave quickly.

4:44 A.M., MUNCHER’S BAKERY, 925 IOWA ST.

 We get to Muncher’s and my energy is at an all-time low. The place is deserted, but it’s nice to have some silence. We each get a cream cheese donut and work on a crossword puzzle together. Other than softly speaking answers to the puzzle, we don’t say a word to each other. I feel bad for dragging Laura on this expedition.

 We almost finish the crossword puzzle, but I can tell Laura wants to go home, so we leave.

5:32 A.M., GO HOME

 I’m not doing well at all. I’ve had too much caffeine and it’s catching up with me. Or maybe it’s just the strange mixture of foods and drinks I’ve been consuming all night. Either way, my stomach is cramping up big time.

 I decide I need to finish the experiment early. I lie down, but can’t sleep. I am way too jittery and can’t keep still. Finally around 6:30 a.m., I nod off.

7:51 A.M., AWAKEN

 I wake up to a text message from the photographer assigned to capture evidence of this madness. After peeling my face from my pillow, I try to focus my eyes and read the message. I sloppily reply that I failed and I’m not going to be able to finish my mission.

 I drop my phone and my face slams back to the mattress. I shut my eyes for a few seconds, then realize I need to try to finish the day. Still in my clothes from last night, I put my contacts back in and head out the door.

8:03 A.M., JAPANESE FRIENDSHIP GARDEN, 1045 MASSACHUSETTS ST.

 It’s pleasantly sunny, although still a little cold. I walk downtown and take a rest in the Japanese Friendship Garden. With about 90 minutes of sleep in me, I’m still not 100-percent recovered from the incidents of last night. I’m still jittery and my stomach is killing me.

 I review my notes and see what I’ve done so far. Sometime about 10:30 p.m., my notes become mostly illegible, yet they snap back into legibility at about 3 a.m. I look at my watch and see I need to survive for just four more hours.

8:47 A.M., FARMERS’ MARKET, NINTH AND NEW HAMPSHIRE STREETS

 My next stop is the farmers’ market to see if I can find some fresh fruits or veggies. To my surprise most of the vendors are gone, and the ones who are there have very limited supplies of stuff I don’t want, such as gourds and honey.

 I toy with the idea of emu meat, but decide against it. I grab a cup of spiced cider, take one last quick look and leave.

9:00 A.M., JET LAG LOUNGE, 610 FLORIDA ST.

 I get to Jet Lag just as the doors are opening. First customer in the bar, lucky me. I sit down and order a Bloody Mary. I figure it may settle my stomach a bit, but yikes, way too spicy. It tastes like I am sucking on a pepper shaker.

 I request ESPN so I can catch Gameday, but they forget to put the sound on. Bummer. I leave half my pepper and vodka drink behind as I walk out the door. It’s not worth the burning lips.

9:58 A.M., WATSON PARK, SEVENTH AND KENTUCKY STREETS

 My stomach is cramping up again. My now-22-hour festival of food and drink is catching up with me.

 I go to the park to get some air but it’s not helping. My head is spinning and I feel like I’m going to faint. I sit on a bench and hold my head between my legs while taking deep breaths.

 Finally my stomach can’t take it anymore. I fall off the bench to my knees and throw up a rainbow of colors that have been collecting in my stomach for the last 24 hours. Red, yellow, green, purple. It’s all there. I know it’s time to quit.

 The rest of Saturday is ruined for me. I can hardly eat or drink anything including bread and water. I lie on the couch all day clutching my stomach, feeling as though I could faint at any moment.

Looking back

 All-nighters are nothing new to me, but the fact that I was out-and-about for an entire day and constantly eating, drinking and expending energy took its toll on me. I’ve definitely had better nights on the town, but it was an interesting experiment to see how long I could last on the Lawrence scene.