eye gunge
At my mate Charlotte's birthday night out I decided to pop a sneaky pill - problem was that I made the mistake of pausing for a second to allow that hideous chemical taste to work its way round my tongue...

As Charlotte was right next to me I put my hand over my mouth which effectively prevented any vomit from coming out - however my nose seemed a good bet, so I basically plastered her with nose vomit. In my attempt to cover that up as well, I ended up crying vomit out my eyes. So Charlotte, dripping with my insides on her nice new dress, walked me to the toilet (I couldn't see as my eyes were to the brim with gut custard).

Unfortunately for some reason the toilets had no toilet paper, so I had to use my t-shirt to sort myself out. I thought at that point I should probably go home...
(soma9766, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 10:26, Reply)

Puke soup
At a party at Uni, I drank an entire bottle of thunderbird after having consumed a load of beer beforehand down the pub. Suddenly got the spins, so asked whether I could use mine hostess's bed for a while. She concurred, and, realising my plight, brought me the largest receptacle in the house - a big soup pan - just in case I chundered. Minutes later I duly filled it with vomit then went to sleep. She put the lid on the pan to hide the stinking semi-solid liquid, and removed the pan from the bedroom. She went to empty it down the toilet, but the bathroom was occupied, so she temporarily put it back on the stove. Then forgot about it.

Next morning some of the hungover revellers went to make breakfast. They turned the stove on, including the ring that was under the pan-o-vom. The house was permeated with the smell of boiling sick.
(bingbong, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 10:07, Reply)

Not really me vomiting
But Vomiting related.

When i first bought my house, loads of people used to crash after going out Friday or Saturday, and I used to do fry ups in the morning. It got to the point where people were coming round in the morning just for the fry up and I was getting pissed off with it.

I got up one morning and someone had puked in the kitchen sink. Therefore I did what was necessary to reduce the weekend breakfast bill. I cooked three massive omelettes, and put the chunks from the puke in all of them, and then put it on plates and served it.

After a couple of minutes someone asked what was in the omelette as it was quite nice, to which I replied "Who was sick in the kitchen last night?" My mate Chris sheepishly replied "Me". So I asked, "What did you have to eat on the way home?" His reply "Doner and Chips". Me "That's what's in the omelette".

Cue a mad rush to the toilet to be ill, and no one wanting breakfast for a long time
(Mischeivious_Delinquent_Squirrel, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 8:50, Reply)

The worst fucking day of my life
this is going to sound so hollywood-esque but it really did happen

when i was about 10-ish i was on the parks and rec. soccer team. we were a jolly old bunch. nowadays we all run cross country together. but anyway, that morning we had a game on the other side of the county, and we were all in my friend sam's mother's minivan. she decided to stop at... da da dada, dunkin donuts.

this was when i found out that donuts make me viciously nauseated. I had a glazed donut on the way to the game... and i started getting such awful stomach cramps when we were actually playing. it was horrible.

the beauty of it all... i was standing about 20 feet away from my teammate when he kicks the ball STRAIGHT at my testicles. i mean, square. i was on my knees in three seconds. time slowed down. and then... my hands on the ground... i vomited right there in the middle of the field. everyone was watching. i collapsed into a donut-smelling heap and let the coaches drag me off the field. i spent the rest of the week walking it off.

and that's why the subject line is, "the worst fucking day of my life"
( AgentMuu hentai coordination, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 3:50, Reply)

passport control
when i was about 11 , we went on a family trip to portugal. he night before we stayed n some travel lodge at gatwick airport (coincidentaqlly this wa the night that the UKlottery started- woo) and coz the restaurant their wasntup to much we sat in our little hotel room and made sandwhiches my dad ad bought from out fridge to stop them going off. he made everyone else tuna andmayo sandwhiches and he made me a fish paste sandwhich, using some extremely prehistoric fishpaste. the bathroom door in the our room ws 1 of those 1s without windows, so it had a grating on te outside. in my rush to get to the toilet, i puked through this great, which if course hit the door as wlel and slid down it onto the floor. the inside of the rate got jammed up with puke and when we opened the door it was all up the wall on the other side of the bathroom.

so after cleaning this up, i managed to get the slightest bit of sleep and woke up very erly the next morning for our flight. i felt sick again, however,as we entered the airport, so my mum, in all her infinite wisdom, bougt me a lucozade sport to to make me feel better. still feeling sick, we headed towards passport control where my mum got stopped because shed accidentally left a breadknife from making the sandwhiches the night before in her hand luggage. the passport people were getting angry becoz they didnt think tey would let us fly, and they were in the middle of an argument when i walke up and said, "excuse me". they both turn3ed around just in time to see my throw up all over the floor, the X-ray machine, someone elsesluggage and just aout everything else that got in my way. they forgot about the knife pretty quickly after that.
(snapwhite, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 1:41, Reply)

.
I can vouch that Beef & Tomato Pot Noodle, when made with out of date bottled beer instead of water, makes an incredibly low-friction material in which to drunkenly slide your head around in.
(Glis, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 1:03, Reply)

I'm not sure if
Finding you have Food Poisoning at 6am on a Saturday really counts.

But effortlessly breaking the flush on the toilet after finishing a lengthy solo duet really is not a pleasant experience, take it from me.
(Glis, Thu 26 Aug 2004, 0:56, Reply)

My worst vomit
was after a quite hideous night shortly out of school (probably just hit 18) and id decided to see how much aftershock i could drink in the space of 1 night... after throwing up all over one of the people i was out with he took me back to my house and went back to contine drinking... i decided in all my wisdom to make myself a ham sandwich before i went to bed (i dont do kebabs) and ended up throwing up the ham sandwich and aftershock all over my bed and the brand new carpet in my bedroom and THEN going to sleep in it in a drunken stupor. ill never touch that nasty shit again!
( Crack <--- Lurker..... came out of hiding on, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 23:48, Reply)

2 days ago...
i was in spain (now i'm back in good old albion). i'd had a stomach bug for a few days (watched six hours of frasier in my pajamas instead of doing anything...).

anyhow, my ma and pa decided it would be good to go into barcelona for the day. so i had a big pizza for dinner. then we went into sitges, and smaller town nearby. then i threw up. twice.

once in front of some poor woman (i apologise if you're reading this), and another in front of a dirty little market stall...

that was wierd.



oh, and last year i threw up twice on holiday in portugal. once after steak, the other after spaghetti carbonara, both of which came up in semi solid form. steak looks so much less appetising after it's been in you stomach for 2 hours.

i have no apologies for length, girth, width, breadth, depth or jazz factor.

the end
(notjustahatrack peeling a sausage..., Wed 25 Aug 2004, 23:35, Reply)

Only less than 2 weeks ago, so still fresh in my memory
I was at a party near York at my friends house. There was quite a lot of us but i still drank probably more than anyone else. Fool. Anyway, i started on cans of Strongbow at 7:15, around 4 of them, then, of course, being an idiot, thought 'Hey ill now drink all the Reef'. So i drunk all the reef. 4 bottles of that. After that i can only really remember ordering a cup of coffee, leaving it to cool, then downing it, not realise how much vodka had been poured in it. (i still have no idea) Then, after some hazy memories of drinking a big bottle ok WKD, i was given a cocktail of Vodka and AfterShock. Now, i cant remeber this, but all my friends vouch for this, so i take it as true. All i can recall after that and before chucking is wathcing gay porn. I have no idea how it came on (pardon the pun) but it was on tv and i found myself in front of the tv. I think id passed out. Then, that feeling of oh bollocks im going t obe sick entered my head as i tried to fall asleep. I hauled my numbed body up, out of the chair and fell towards the bathroom o nthe way to the front door. "Bugger" i slurred " izshutidyf" (its shut). So i kept my momentum and staggered out of the doorway before delicatley placing the contents of my stomach all over the driveway. Now, the stupid thing is, it sloped towards the house, so it the nflowed back into the gutter, behind me. Being as pissed as i was i never realised this until someone pointed me in the right direction, so i ended up sat in it for a good few minutes. My next memories are telling someonei had got my cock out that night, and that i wanted more vodka. It was actually water, but i didnt care/realise. I was then sick another 4 times, before being thrown up the stairs into a room where i fell asleep. Ah happy days....and leeds festival 2moro, ROLL ON THE DRINKING!!!!
(javier, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 23:13, Reply)

This has fuck all to do with drink...
...but I have epilepsy, I have nasty vomits coz of that. In fact, i did so an hour ago. I fell down the stairs...
(Noonaa, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 23:03, Reply)

oooh just thought of one of mine
my brilliant sixteenth birthday house party, me and a good friend decided to go on an alcoholic drinking rampage, we drank everything, and he would sneak things into my karpuzi very often, i would notice but i wouldn't care. I was sixteen and ready to go wild. things get a little hazy and all i can remember is me wanting to sit outside a lot...and then suddenly being in my brother's bedroom, hurling pink karpuzi puke from the window. yummy. I ran downstairs, filled a bucket of water and poured it out the window ( under the window is a cover over our front door)...i was then told by said friend that my mother had gone outside at that point and spun around in the 'rain'...oops...i actually have a photo somewhere of me 3 seconds after said hurl, grinning with my hands in the air, looking as if i've achieved something great. i was fine the rest of the night but i'm still a bit queazy after just a sniff of karpuzi! still a great drink though....
(rainmaker is 98% lurker., Wed 25 Aug 2004, 22:47, Reply)

vom
I have been to 2 parties at a friends house. At the first one this fat guy no-one likes drank too mcuh, too fast, and ate loads of cannabis chocolate. He disappeared soon after, and was found upstairs, totally naked, passed out in the bathroom. After he was revived and dressed, he was promptly sick down the stairs. I had to help clean up, and nearly chundered myself.

The second time I drank loads of everything on hand, from Fosters to whiskey to wine to vodka. In all I made it 16 units in one misguided hour, then was apparently violently sick. All I remember is sittign up from the floor in the living room, and everything going blurry, like everything I saw from that point in the evening on in one frame of vision. Then I remember the feeling of lying on my front with somethign wet in my hair, and a friend of mine saying "Oh no you don't matey!" while hauling me upright. Then I woke up, completely fine, minaly because all the toxins in my bodyt had been voided through my mouth.

And I still pulled the girl whose house it was. :P
(youthink, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 22:19, Reply)

No sir, he's just got food poisoning
Just remembered another one... aged 13 on school trip to Italy. Since Italian kids aren't quite as stupid as English kids, buying wine and fags is an entirely reasonable and permissible thing to do aged 13 in Italy.

However, drinking a litre of wine having never really got drunk before, between 3:30-5:30 in the afternoon, and then insisting on going to dinner with the whole group instead of quietly dying in the room, could be classed as unwise.

We met up before dinner outside the canteen, where the teacher in charge gave boring talks on what we were doing the next day, how we should be better behaved, etc. I swayed and felt ill. Just as he was telling us how we shouldn't buy soft drinks from roadside vendors, because they're made with Local Water and would make delicate English people puke, I let rip. A tidal wave of vino bianco and bile escaped across the terrace...

Still more embarassing, because I was normally swotty rather than misbehaving, they thought I was genuinely ill. I eventually guiltily confessed my alcohol-fueled secret, rather than have a doctor called out to deal with my nauseous and delirious self.
(stalinism, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 21:54, Reply)

army camp
ok, so picture the scene: its Monday, the first day into a CCF army camp, and its my birthday on wednesday. I'd been off school for a total of 8 weeks this year due to ilness. So guess what happens? i get food poisoning. So on the first day of army camp i find myself sitting on an army infirmary toilet shared with two other ill-smelling people(and therefore stinking of diahorrea)and i am contributing my own foul liquid shit. when all of a sudden the urge to heave my stomach up through my mouth comes to me. well how do you refuse such a tempting offer? so on my first day of army camp,two days before my birthday, i projectile vomit AND diahorrea at the same time! the hardest thing was choosing which end to put into the toilet, and i'll leave that to your imagination,but either way,pity the nurse that had to clean it up...
(asme, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 21:23, Reply)

Like Japanese porn, but real
Not me, thank various deities, but my friend Steve.

We're at a big party at my ex-girlfriend's house in St John's Wood - which is an excellent place for amusement, but for her mum's collection of horrible, horrible fluffy white cats (called Turkish Vans, apparently, perhaps in the hope that someone will make them into a donner).

Steve's brought a Japanese girl called Sitomi to the party with him; they've met a few times through a mutual friend. She's perhaps expecting a less drunken evening - certainly she seems slightly peturbed when I meet up with Steve on the way, and head to the offie where we buy a crate of Kronenbourg each. Then again, she seems slightly peturbed all the time.

Now, Steve has an unfortunate drunken habit of drinking six or seven pints with no discernible effect on his personality, and then instantly shifting to helpless incoherent buffoon with the seventh or eighth. Sometimes we take bets on when this will occur. On this occasion, everyone was distracted... so it came as something as a surprise to all concerned when Steve unleashed a torrent of vomit - over the kitchen floor, over the terrible cats, over most of the people in the kitchen - but especially over Sitomi.

Naturally, we assumed she'd want to leave. Instead, being (we surmised) the dutiful Japanese type, she took Steve upstairs to get him cleaned up.

The next recorded sighting of the pair was half an hour later, with the still-sick-covered pair having surprisingly energetic sex on my ex's parents bed. For a while, I considered having my eyes removed to get rid of the image...

The horrible cats form a coda to the story. By the time we reached the stage of getting cloths and other sick-clearing devices, the cats had done a remarkably good job of disposing of the sick themselves. Unfortunately, Kronenbourg-flavoured sick isn't recommended as cat food. So as people passed out in various corners of the house, the cats took great delight in vomiting on and/or licking each one of them in turn.

Steve and Sitomi lasted a few months as a couple. They eventually broke up after he drunkenly phoned her number instead of the rail timetable phone line, and verbally abused her for not knowing the time of the next train to Wimbledon.

Apologies for frankly enormous length, breadth and girth.
(stalinism, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 21:03, Reply)

I'm embarressed to this day.
I went to a gig, Capdown at Cambridge Junction if you must know, and started feeling funny. I went to the bogs cos I thought I was gonna throw up, but I felt fine, so I went back out, grabbed a table, told my friends (who were worried, naturally) not to look at me, then threw up all over the table, in front of about 200 people. I held up the rock horns to try and keep some credability. I went to the bogs, everything was clean when I got back, except a hoody which I had to buy (despite having no money, begged and borrowed). I cringe thinking about it even to this day, hope admitting it will give me closure.
( Whillow, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 20:14, Reply)

Someone else's vomit...
This mate of ours, a guy named Ila (from somewhere in Eastern Europe, a Slavic state of some sort), a.k.a. SickMan, was just intensely depraved. He's an absolute nutter. Well, there was the time we all were drinking heavily, and he knew he was going to vomit, so he put on a cup of pot noodle ramen-like thingies and gulped them down without even chewing them. Surely enough he vommed it all up and it was a hidous mess, but he also had a dozen or so noodles hanging out of his nostrils. He was very pleased by this, and asked his girlfriend Jill to take a snapshot.

Someone still has that polaroid of SickMan with a bunch of spaghetti noodles hanging out his nose. Hilariously funny but very very sick.
( ronin9026, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 19:30, Reply)

Not actually my vomit
...but I was vomited upon. My last year at Uni, and this 'vet student I was getting along with quite well had a few drinks and went back to her place. She then proceeded to give me oral service and I must have tickled her tonsils, 'cause she bletched into my lap. Let me tell you, that was very anticlimactic.

Eventually, I forgave her. Two years later we were married, but that's another story in itself.
( ronin9026, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 19:25, Reply)

weeeeeel,
ive only had a shit vomit but @ primary school i was doin "show an tell" on a dead mouse my dad gave me, i smelled it and violently vomited over the whole of the front 2 rows!!
(ameoba photographer for hire, cheap, see profile, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 18:38, Reply)

Simple, yet elegant
Stupid office meal thing. The plan was to meet at the restaurant about 7:30, but a few of us lived too far away for that to be sensible. So we went to the pub beforehand.
This turned out to be an error, as the only other non-locals turned out to be the horrifyingly personality-free boss and her tedious supervisory underling.

For two hours I listened to their mind-numbing honeymoon anecdotes, whilst they bought me Newcastle Brown.

Inevitable outcome: We all met at the restaurant, we ordered our food, I threw up on the table before the food arrived. Classy.
But the best bit was...

The restaurant was full, so no other tables were available. The staff cleaned up and everyone had to eat at the same table. Yes, really.
I'd gone by that time but I was reliably informed that several people had lost their appetites.

Apologies to any staff of Steers in Norwich who may have been on duty 8 years or so back...
( Dr.A, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 18:23, Reply)

Chinese - Alchie - Boss - Saga
I'm not often sick, it doesn't happen because I have a wonderful constitution oh no I make sure it doesn't happen owing to the burning sensation and the vurps that you will do for 24 hours after throwing up. All vile and no thanks, however occasionally vomit can be a beautiful thing.

Promoted at work, boss takes me out for a drink. Boss is big alchie who can't hold a pint glass until he's had at least four pints because of the shakes. Me heap big tosspot (as the native Americans would have it no doubt) decides I will match this booze hound drink for drink. Stupid, stupid, stupid boy. Two hours and 9 pints later I am utterley spactically drunk, I have marginally less control over my body than Steven Hawking altohugh more rhythm it must be said. Seems like a good idea to eat and try and soothe the savage beast that is my prodigous drunkeness.

The first bite of crispy aromatic duck hits taste bud and I have to go and be a little sick. Halfway across the restaurant my stomach muscles are trying to leap out of my ears and I realise it's hand over the mouth time. I just make the kharzi door as sick splays out from between my fingers in the manner of a lawn sprinkler, so far so fucking terrible. I shamble into the gents hurl a huge parabolic arc of nastiness over both urinals then crawl to the trap where i heave my aching guts up into toilet bowl for what seems like three weeks. After this get up wiping the bloody great slaves of puke off of me as best I can and decide to enjoy a cigarette. Needless to say I doze off and am woken by two very upset chinese chaps wanting "OU' OF FRUCKING RESTAUWANT NOW" as I am led out of the toilet towards the exit (my boss lying on the floor laughing and being helped to reach his visa) I slip in some of the earlier sicky by the toilet door and bring down a trolley piled high with some poor girls hen night feast...and do you know after the cavalcade of sick I felt much much better.

I make no apology for my girth.

Goodnight I love you all.
(dannyboy72, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 17:48, Reply)

I've confessed for me, now my family...
I have the great honour of being in part the cause of 4 out of 5 of my sister's drunken vomiting sessions. The most memorable of which starts as an innocuous drinking and herbal ingesting session. A little later on, after returning from clubbing, she'd invited a few of her male friends round and we were dressing up in wrapping paper. No, just me and her, at least I had the sense to keep my underwear on though... Long and short of it, verrrrr drunk at end of night. At grandmother's house as she's away for a bit, sister feels the need to be cleansed internally, but knows she won't make it to the loo, so calmly opens grannie's bottom bedside drawer, empties contents, and refills. Closes bottom drawer. She did clean it, but the whole thing struck me as so sweet!

My dad, well, step-dad... All during my teenage years the bloke was teetotal and refused to let me deviate from his enforced weirdness (so I did it all in secret, obviously), but come the time when I've been at uni a while and been drunk at him enough, he suddenly has a change of heart!!!
Cue friends of the family inviting my parents out for a meal...
Mum, who was driving, said that dad had clearly drunk a fair amount, but it was only when he made a quick exit to the toilet (adjacent to the room everyone else was in), and started calling out to Huey. The family dog was obviously struck by empathy, and stood outside said bathroom door, howling in time to my dad's hurling.
They packaged him into the car, wrapped in a wallace and grommit duvet, and clutching a teddy bear shaped hot water bottle, where he lasted all the way home, bless, before spewing out of the car door.
His "food poisoning" lasted all the next day, and kept him rough for a little while after that. My mum called me up at uni to gloat while he was sick in bed. Got to love her!
(Imp of destruction, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 17:27, Reply)

Pools
I'd been drinking heavily one night, and I made my way to an intimate little party that a lass I knew was having. I proceeded to vomit violently in her toilet, pass out in her bedroom, wake up, nearly cover her entire driveway in vomit and then leave. Apparently the next day she was outside in her pyjamas in the freezing cold cleaning it up herself. She wasn't too pleased.
(Shake, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 16:23, Reply)

when i was younger
i ate a whole bag of those horrible, rubbery haribo sweets before going on a long car journey. needless to say, i puked them all up [still in their original state] and promptly fell asleep. it turns out that while i was sleeping, my brother (who was 3 at the time) picked the sweets out of the puke on the carseat and ate them. nice.

haven't eaten them since, by the way
(not_real had his name thieved, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 14:14, Reply)

Hat's the way to do it
When a student I went to a party wearing a trilby, got very, very drunk and had to get a taxi home. 100 yards from safety I realised I needed to speak to Huey and Ralph very urgently. Asking the driver to stop would involve opening my mouth. Spewing in the cab would lead to a £20 fine from the cabbie (lot of money in them days). I realised I needed some kind of bowl-shaped object to be sick into. It was then I remembered that I was wearing a hat. Haven't worn it since, mind.

Other highlights:

Throwing up spinach and blood into a bath

Hurling tequila while hanging out of a speeding car windown like a dog

Vomiting on a friend's mum as she cleaned up earlier vomit

Oh and my wife once threw up on my head while I was talking into the big white telephone. In her defence that was down to extreme seasickness but it reinforced my view that she was the one for me.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 13:11, Reply)

Shiny, shiny, oh, not so shiny
During my "rock chick" phase (please don't laugh) I use to wear a lot of those very thin silver bangles.
One saturday evening I managed to cram in 4 pubs and 2 parties, I remember sitting on the floor at the 2nd party, attempting to focus my vision on Bill & Ted Excellent Adventure (yes it was that long ago) that someone had put on, (I can only recall 2 bits).
After someone walked in with a bottle of vodka, and I enquired "if you are not using that, I can have it?" I figured it was time to go home.
Fortunately, this final party was being held just across a main road from my street, which at 3 in the morning was quite quiet.
Didn't feel too good as I turned the key the lock, but managed to retain my liquid content.
Up the stairs, ooh, that not good, but again maintained.
Quite impressed - maintaining my non-puker status - I removed my bangles and other jewellery into a very cool glass bowl, which served as a jewellery box, and promptly filled it.
I had reached the "i'll sort it later" mode, fell into bed and into slumber.
Woke in the morning, to find I had also puked on my pillow (yay), carefully carried bowl through to bathroom and applied shower to it.
Slowly the liquid cleared and revealed all my jewellery had gone a lovely shade of brown.
( Not just a hatstand inflamed in the membrane inflamed in the brain, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 12:47, Reply)