Everyone needs a friend like Ægir– and if you don’t have one– congratulations! You probably are the spiritual Ægir of your crew, which means you’re a true goddamn rockstar.

You see, Ægir was known among his fellow Norse gods for two main things: beastly brews and killer ragers. Which means he’s the sort of god you want to sacrifice to before the yearly pilgrimage to your favorite metal fest. But even Ægir can’t prevent people from over indulging, as shown in this tale from The Poetic Edda– a large collection of anonymous tales in the Old Norse tradition of the Edda.

The story goes that every winter, Ægir would throw a massive shindig so all his fellow gods could get wrecked. You know– the sort of events you could expect not just Slayer to be at, but Amon Amarth, Bathory, and all the other greats. The star of this show was, of course, the giant golden kettle (a gift from Thor) where Ægir would concoct his righteous brews– as well as the ale horns that would magically refill as soon as they were empty– a feature modern-day AleHorns sadly lack.


Ægir and his daughers brewing up a batch of ale

It was during one of these parties where everyone’s favorite spoiled man-child, Loki, decided he wasn’t getting enough attention and promptly murdered one of Ægir’s loyal servants, Fimafeng. The other gods, naturally, decided this was both a ginormous party foul and a total bummer on one of the best nights of the year, so they kicked him out.

Like many drunk party crashers and concert-goers do even today, Loki got real, 100%, all-natural pissed at being kicked out. He left for a while, but it was only to plot his revenge. When he returned, he laid into everyone in that special way that only alcohol can bring out in us. He accuses multiple gods and goddesses of cheating on their significant others, challenges them to fights and refuses to be placated, even by Bragi, the god of poetry who is gifted with a silver tongue.

Bragi, who was also wasted, tells Loki that he would not dare piss off the host, the gracious Ægir, by crushing Loki’s head to a pulp in his halls, but he’d be happy to take it outside. As you can probably imagine, things continue to escalate from here.

And then arrives Thor– fashionably late as usual– ready to get into it with Loki. Four times, he tells the obnoxious drunk to take it down a notch, but, naturally, Loki refutes him until the final time. Then, and only then, he relents, saying, “Of all the people here gathered here who could really throw down– yeah, Thor, it’s probably you.” He leaves and the party of the gods goes back to partying like gods.

So no matter if you’re at a party, a concert, or just even in your own home: be an Ægir, not a Loki, and know when you’ve had enough.