Definition: In this task, you are given a Reddit post as a text. Your task is to generate a title for this text. The title should start with "TIFU by", followed by a situation that caused humor. The title should contain 7-12 words, ideally.
Input: Text: as with alot of these on here, this occurred **not** today, but rather about 3 years ago. also, this is my first post on tifu. i've always lurked and had alot of laughs at some of the epic fu's i've read, but never contributed or even signed up. i found myself remembering this incident we're about to dive into, and the absurdity of it. i figured it would be worthy material to share here. i get a kick out of looking back on it, and i figure some other folks will get a kick out of my eloquently written account of it


now that we've got that out of the way, strap in and please keep all hands and feet inside the ride until it has come to a complete stop. follow me as i set the scene.


**year:** 2012.
 
**location** a modest sized house with a group of inebriated individuals, located in a quiet suburb in the us. *(boy, that sounds like a recipe for disaster already)*

**time**: somewhere in the late night hours of 1am-2am.


let's preface by backtracking a few hours from when things *(quite literally)* came crashing down.


it was a frosty, cold night. winter was in full swing. the chill of the midnight air nipped at my face as i stepped out of the car, beers in hand and a cigarette hanging from my lips. it was dead quiet, except for the occasional car that passed by on the nearby main road, and the closing of our car doors. i had just arrived at the house-in-question with a couple friends and i was freezing. for this story, we'll call those friends charlie and william. 


we had just come from a concert and decided to keep the night going by stopping in at a party. the host was one of our friends and invited us over to join the festivities. i was still slightly buzzed from the overpriced concert beers and i didn't want to end the night just yet. so of course, i was on board to accept the host's invitation to invade his home, enjoy beer that didn't cost a fortune, and make an ass of myself in front of my friends. 


we stroll in through the front door. we're greeted by friends who are sitting around the coffee table in the living room. people are coming and going throughout the house. the air is filled with cigarette smoke, laughter, conversations and music. it's a typical house party. i shed my coat, winter hat, and gloves and then proceed to make my way to the kitchen to stash my beer.


i've partied at this house before and i swear this place has it in for me. the last time i was here, i tripped over a guitar amp in the living room and ended up being the proverbial tree that fell in the forest. the only difference is that everybody was around and everybody heard it. and everybody gave a shit. charlie, william and i made a reference to that incident on this night, but little did we know, it would serve as irony later on. 


fast forward. we're all wandering throughout the house and socializing with friends and other party goers. i'm downing beers and having a great time. i end up in the kitchen and start chatting up this cute girl, who we'll refer to as *"kitchen girl."* we're getting on pretty well, flirting, and at some point, we had some close physical contact going. arms around each other and that sort of thing. everything's going smooth - even sidestepping a cockblock attempt from a lesbian who had taken a vehement interest in the girl as well.


at some point, in my drunken brilliance, i decide to start circle headbanging - or *"windmilling"* - in the kitchen in front of kitchen girl. yes, full blown windmills, as if i were on stage with cannibal corpse. i don't even remember what spurred that shenanigan or how, but i'm pretty sure it had something to do with our conversation at that moment. all i know is that i had copious amounts of alcohol coursing through my veins; and that is not a good thing when coupled with rapid, disorienting motions such as circle headbanging. it seemed like a good idea at the time. but as dave mustaine once sang - *"hindsight is always 20/20. looking back, it's still a bit fuzzy."* the irony of that last line is so true, in light of the events to come.


**target in sight and lit**

when i brought my head up from my short cannibal corpse moment, the room started spinning. i'm nowhere in proximity of anything that i can grasp onto, in order to maintain my balance. i fear if i take a step forward to find something, i'll come crashing down. i figured i'll just stand still and wait for my heavy metal carousel to come to a complete stop, before i even think about making a move.


**we have tone. prepare to fire**

it's not working. my equilibrium is now fucked and i feel myself starting to sway. i'm trying to fight it, but vertigo has completely taken hold of me and has other ideas. my body starts shifting and my legs start moving. i knew what was coming.......damn you, physics.


**fox two! missile away!**

i stumble. i reach out preemptively so i can catch myself if i go down. i stumble again. the stumbling turns into a shuffling run. *(the stumble-run that you inadvertently do when you lose your balance and try to catch yourself.)* my feet are stomping towards the other side of the room as inertia takes hold and puts my hunched over body into motion. as i'm picking up speed, i'm trying to regain control of this ill-fated course, but there was no coming back. i'm like bambi on ice being pulled in by the death star tractor beam. i start getting wobbly, and i go careening headfirst across the kitchen like a fucking laser guided missile, homing in towards the cabinet on the other side of the room. oh no....oh no.....


**splash! good effect on target**

**wham!** i found my mark and slammed headfirst into the cabinet with a loud **thunk**, followed by the sound of scattering beer cans as i collapsed on the floor. the whole room went silent and all attention was immediately diverted in my direction upon impact. i was still conscious but it took me a couple seconds to realize what the fuck just happened. and there i was. on the floor, holding my head and muttering profanities while laying in a pile of empty beer cans that had spilled out of their nearby boxes and bags when i came crashing down. what a buffoon! i just had to be that guy, didn't i? charlie comes over to see if i'm ok and helps me to my feet. i'm deemed good-to-go, no signs of concussion or anything. as i'm rubbing my head, i can't help but laugh about the whole thing and i go right back to drinking and socializing. all those beers dulled my sense of pain, but i knew this was gonna hurt worse in the morning. 


at this point, kitchen girl disappeared and i don't think i saw her again for the rest of the night. the lesbian probably stole her away after i did my glorious charade of a human missile in the kitchen. oh well. i ended up leaving the party shortly afterwards and got dropped off at home.

 
i woke up the next day with a knot on my head and a headache to go with it. i started piecing together the events in my head and everything came back to me. needless to say, my buddies didn't let me live down the whole ordeal for a couple days. i made a mental note to bring a helmet next time i go to that house.

TIFU By Giving a Whole New Meaning to Headbanging