My Worst VomitWe all love a drink. Some of us love them so much they want to see them again on the way out of their mouths. I once got caught by surprise by the boozy sickness while chatting to some friends in my kitchen. Quick as a flash I grabbed a nearby pan and chundered away merrily in it. Realising it was probably time for bed I staggered off to my room. Unfortunately, my co-ordination failed just as I reached the landing and I somersaulted down the entire flight of stairs with my saucepan full of vomit. Beat that!
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chthonic, Thu 19 Aug 2004, 21:00)
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A Boozy one and a Not Boozy One..But not in that order.
As kid we went to the local chinese restaurant once a month. I always had sweet and sour pork and special fried rice, followed by fried ice cream. Got home feeling fine, but woke up about 2 am feeling remarkably sticky. I had apparently felt the urge to hurl, and somnambulantly perambulated about half way from my bed to the toilet, vomiting pink goop the whole way. When my heaves had subsided, I had not seen the point in continuing and so had turned right back around and gone back to bed. I only woke when a follow-on sicklet had spread all over my face. Once I discovered what had happened, I woke my parents. They had a big old stress about carpet stains and cleaned me and everything else up which took ages. What was remarkable was that my bed was clean and didn't need changing. Once I got the last grains of rice out of my eyes, it was back to bed and back to sleep. The next morning, forgetting all about the night before, I jumped out of bed. My wardrobe was on the far side of my bed from my door, and it bisected my room. No one had checked that side of my bed. I went ankle deep into cold, congealed, regurgitated sweet and sour pork with a distinct scream of unhappiness. I was not allowed to move until mum brought a bucket.
The beer one is shorter. Had gone out with some mates, drank tequila, beer, champagne, vodka, etc whilst sitting around a campfire getting increasingly stupid. It started raining so we went back to my mate's place to go to bed. We all had a late night snack of choice - mine being about 8 bananas. We were all being really silly by this time and I had wrapped my double duvet around my head turban style, held in place with elastic straps. To sleep, I just pulled the whole thing down over my head and dreamt dreams of unsurpassing claustrophobic terror. I woke in the morning, convinced I had been mummified, and found the duvet stuck in place with the paste of 8 bananas, reeking of tequila.
Neither girth, nor length, should ever be apologised for, provided socks are removed and toenails are well trimmed.
(, Tue 24 Aug 2004, 12:52, Reply)
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