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» My Worst Vomit
Panning for gold
My old flatmate vomited into one of those oversized spirit bottles, that he was using to collect change in his bedroom. The sight of him washing hundreds of coins in a basin the next day was something to behold, and we likened it to 'panning for gold'. He also drunkenly covered up patches of newly laid vomit with Led Zeppelin LPs, presumably in the belief that if you can't see them, they don't exist. He couldn't, and still can't, explain what he must have been thinking that night.
(Fri 20th Aug 2004, 16:24, More)
Panning for gold
My old flatmate vomited into one of those oversized spirit bottles, that he was using to collect change in his bedroom. The sight of him washing hundreds of coins in a basin the next day was something to behold, and we likened it to 'panning for gold'. He also drunkenly covered up patches of newly laid vomit with Led Zeppelin LPs, presumably in the belief that if you can't see them, they don't exist. He couldn't, and still can't, explain what he must have been thinking that night.
(Fri 20th Aug 2004, 16:24, More)
» My Worst Vomit
Bolognese disaster
Soon after starting a placement year in France, a few of us went out for a meal and settled on an 'all-u-can-eat' Italian where I had far too much spaghetti bolognese washed down with about three bottles of red wine. In bed in our rented house that night, room spin reached fever pitch and I could tell the inevitable would happen soon and made a dash for the bathroom. I didn't quite make it and vomited about 10 times en route in the darkness. Head in bowl, I could hear my housemates start to emerge from their bedrooms to investigate. Lights went on and I heard one female housemate start to scream. Feeling better after emptying my stomach, I left the bathroom and saw her cause for concern - every patch of vomit was about two feet wide, a terrifying scarlet colour on the pale carpet and each with it's own little pile of spaghetti 'brains'. Apparently, I was doing some sort of loud scream/gurgle with every blast, and that, coupled with the sight upon leaving her room, led my housemate to believe somebody was being murdered. I thought the fact we had carpet tiles would make the clean up operation easy, but it was a nightmare. I spent the next two days scrubbing about 20 of the buggers, and they all remained a light red colour. Got the deposit back at the end of the year though, after some strategic furniture movement.
(Fri 20th Aug 2004, 15:48, More)
Bolognese disaster
Soon after starting a placement year in France, a few of us went out for a meal and settled on an 'all-u-can-eat' Italian where I had far too much spaghetti bolognese washed down with about three bottles of red wine. In bed in our rented house that night, room spin reached fever pitch and I could tell the inevitable would happen soon and made a dash for the bathroom. I didn't quite make it and vomited about 10 times en route in the darkness. Head in bowl, I could hear my housemates start to emerge from their bedrooms to investigate. Lights went on and I heard one female housemate start to scream. Feeling better after emptying my stomach, I left the bathroom and saw her cause for concern - every patch of vomit was about two feet wide, a terrifying scarlet colour on the pale carpet and each with it's own little pile of spaghetti 'brains'. Apparently, I was doing some sort of loud scream/gurgle with every blast, and that, coupled with the sight upon leaving her room, led my housemate to believe somebody was being murdered. I thought the fact we had carpet tiles would make the clean up operation easy, but it was a nightmare. I spent the next two days scrubbing about 20 of the buggers, and they all remained a light red colour. Got the deposit back at the end of the year though, after some strategic furniture movement.
(Fri 20th Aug 2004, 15:48, More)
» World's Sickest Joke
One from Jimmy Carr...
...stuck in my head when I saw him at the Edinburgh Fringe recently:
Q. What's worse than biting into an apple and finding a worm?
A. Being raped.
Does anyone remember the playground joke from the 80s that had the punchline 'only for a chocolate biccie!'? That's the only bit I can remember, but I'm sure it was offensive in some way.
(Fri 10th Sep 2004, 9:23, More)
One from Jimmy Carr...
...stuck in my head when I saw him at the Edinburgh Fringe recently:
Q. What's worse than biting into an apple and finding a worm?
A. Being raped.
Does anyone remember the playground joke from the 80s that had the punchline 'only for a chocolate biccie!'? That's the only bit I can remember, but I'm sure it was offensive in some way.
(Fri 10th Sep 2004, 9:23, More)
» My Worst Vomit
Would you like your dinner mashed?
Just remembered this one, although I'd been trying my best to forget it. For some reason at my primary school, the dinner ladies would offer to mash your dinner up, presumably to make it more appetising (did this happen to anybody else?) Anyway, the first day I ever tried liver I had one veg instead of the usual two with it - leaving a space on the plate. After the first mouthful of liver, I realised what would become a lifelong hatred and fear of the stuff and puked on my plate - filling the space remarkably neatly. The ensuing revulsion and laughter from the kids sitting around me brought one particularly nasty dinner lady to the table, who proceeded to mash my 'dinner' angrily without the usual enquiry, or realising a third of it was puke. I ran away from the table, and the wall of laughter and pointing, in tears. Bastards.
(Mon 23rd Aug 2004, 11:23, More)
Would you like your dinner mashed?
Just remembered this one, although I'd been trying my best to forget it. For some reason at my primary school, the dinner ladies would offer to mash your dinner up, presumably to make it more appetising (did this happen to anybody else?) Anyway, the first day I ever tried liver I had one veg instead of the usual two with it - leaving a space on the plate. After the first mouthful of liver, I realised what would become a lifelong hatred and fear of the stuff and puked on my plate - filling the space remarkably neatly. The ensuing revulsion and laughter from the kids sitting around me brought one particularly nasty dinner lady to the table, who proceeded to mash my 'dinner' angrily without the usual enquiry, or realising a third of it was puke. I ran away from the table, and the wall of laughter and pointing, in tears. Bastards.
(Mon 23rd Aug 2004, 11:23, More)
» Local Nutters
In Dartford...
...we had our fair share of nutters. There was a man nicknamed the Crayford Doodah who had a really long beard, was bald and skinny as a rake. He used to ride around town on his bicycle and God help you if you made eye contact with him. Even a sideways glance caused him to stop and hurl a barrage of expletives at you, which would continue until you disappeared from his view. There was also a fairly young woman who had an imaginary child who used to hang around by the bus stops, getting an incredible amount of abuse from school kids. She used to walk a short way then stop, turn around and call for her 'child' to hurry up, beckoning him or her with her hand held out. Tragic really. There was always a steady supply of tramp fights / drownings / torchings in Dartford park.
(Thu 16th Sep 2004, 16:03, More)
In Dartford...
...we had our fair share of nutters. There was a man nicknamed the Crayford Doodah who had a really long beard, was bald and skinny as a rake. He used to ride around town on his bicycle and God help you if you made eye contact with him. Even a sideways glance caused him to stop and hurl a barrage of expletives at you, which would continue until you disappeared from his view. There was also a fairly young woman who had an imaginary child who used to hang around by the bus stops, getting an incredible amount of abuse from school kids. She used to walk a short way then stop, turn around and call for her 'child' to hurry up, beckoning him or her with her hand held out. Tragic really. There was always a steady supply of tramp fights / drownings / torchings in Dartford park.
(Thu 16th Sep 2004, 16:03, More)