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This is a question House Guests

"Last week," Ungersven confesses, "I vomited over almost everything in a friend's spare room. The only thing to escape the deluge was the rather attractive (alas engaged) French girl who was sharing the bed with me." Tell us about nightmare guests or Fred West-a-like hosts.

(, Thu 6 Jan 2011, 14:20)
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The house guest from hell was me
Unfortunately as I believe they are also a lurking b3tan, I cant relate the story of the leech that invaded my space for a week and nearly drove me to commit murder, without giving myself away, and this sorry tale has already anonymously done the internet rounds for a while.
So i shall relate instead the tale of myself being the guilty party.
I hitched from Yorkshire to Somerset to spend a night with some friends prior to us all going off to spend a few days getting wasted at a weekend party out in the wilds.
On arrival I had a cup of tea made with ever so slightly smug free range organic milk, which was also ever so slightly off.
The following morning I'm barfing big time and can shit through the eye of a needle without splashing the sides.
My hosts being good worthy sorts did everything possible to make me comfortable, but of course they wanted to be off and me being a bag of puke told them to go and leave me to sleep it off.
So of they went, leaving me sweating and groaning under a duvet in their spare room with several huge bottles of water, lots of packs of dry biscuits, a family pack of toilet roll and 3 tin buckets.
I have no real recollection of that weekend, but when they got back the buckets were full, I was laid half clothed on the bare mattress.
The sheets, duvet and most of my clothes were hanging over the shower rail, completely soiled but I thought in my delerious state I'd managed to hand wash them in the bathroom sink :(
As they and me also had to be back to work monday morning , and me in no fit state to hitch back, it was decided that they would have to drive me back home.
Which took about 7 hours with constant stops for me to throw up, then pour my sodden remains into my flat then drive back across country to theirs.
Where they were greeted with the smell of puke and crap, threw everything into the garden, had a couple hours sleep and then had to go to work.
I didnt make it to work and funnily enough have never been invited back
(, Mon 10 Jan 2011, 0:14, Reply)

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