Rectal abuse in Phnom Penh.
Apologies, this is quite long.

Last November, Mr BobFossil and I took ourselves off on a little trip across Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, overland from Bangkok to Saigon, via Siem Riep and Phnom Penh. By our last night in Phnom Penh, we were craving something other than Cambodia food, so when we were offered the chance to dine at the FCC (Foreign Correspondents Club) we jumped at the chance. We had margheritas and pizza galore, and were looking forward to a good nights sleep before jumping on the bus to Saigon the following day at 8am. Sadly, this feeling of contentment was not to last.

I woke up at about 5am feeling slightly odd. I lay there, trying to get together the energy to go to the loo for a pee, which is what I assumed had woken me up. Then suddenly, the overwhelming knowledge that I was going to be imminently and violently unwell hit me. I knelt over the porcelain throne, and...nothing. Not even a little bit of bile.

However, as soon as I stood up, I suddenly had to sit down again, 0.5 seconds before my arse emitted a thin stream of pure brown hatred. I pushed until it sputtered to an end, wiped and flushed. Stood up, sat down and excreted more of this liquid venom that was sullying my innocent bowels. Funnily enough, it didn't smell too bad at this point. It must have been the scouting party, preparing for the anal assault I was about to suffer.

At this point, I began to feel a bit sick. Both bath and sink were too far to each side to aim for: I would have had to lean over, and risk propelling a jet of watery effluent all over the bathroom walls. Aha! There's a small bin for sanitary towels, cunningly lined with a carrier bag. I grabbed that and hurled a small amount of bile into it. By this point, it was getting on for 6.30am. I had an hour and a half to pack my bags, empty myself of whatever bug was raping my digestive system, and get cleaned. I strained gently on my bowels, and nothing came out. It would appear that I was empty. I emerged from the bathroom, told the boyfriend that I would not be coming to breakfast, and swallowed a couple of immodium. They immediately reappeared in a small pool of vomit. Oh dear. If I can't make my insides solid, then this 7 hour journey from Phnom Penh to Saigon, on a public bus, was going to be interesting...I needed to get whatever was still inside of me out, and fast.

I had a packet of "rehydration" powder to add to a glass of water to create "a delightfully effervescent drink, with a refreshing lemon taste". Bingo. As everyone knows, those things taste vile. I sat myself on the loo, bin clutched 'twixt knees in readiness, made a glass of the foul drink, downed it in one, and waited...for all of 10 seconds. Suddenly, hell came a-calling. I threw up a soggy mass of what felt like an entire baby (which was probably most of the calzone pizza from supper), and the sheer pain of this made my stomach buck around like a wild horse. Naturally, the violent muscle contractions in my torso managed to kick my arse into gear, and forced out a pint of liquid shit, which smelt truly horrendous. The smell made me retch, and bring up another diseased stomach-baby, which in its turn forced out another stream of steaming bum-bovril.

While I was imitating Etna at both ends, I thought about my situation. My boyfriend is outside getting acquainted with the harmonious strains of food poisoning whilst doing my packing for me, I'm in some weird vicious circle of digestive hell, and we have to get the bus in half an hour. It was very nearly depressing. Instead, as a true b3tan, I found it strangely hilarious. So now, the sounds coming from the bathroom were:

HOOONK-BLAAAAART*pffft!*HEEEEUUURGGGH-SPLUTSPLUTSPLUTSPLUT*heeheehee!*BLEEEUURGH-BRAPBRAPBRAPBRAAAAAAAAAP*bwahahaaaaa!!*

Every time I giggled, I would vomit. Every time I vomited, my arse exploded. And every time my arse exploded, I laughed at it all.

This did all actually help in the end though, as it forced everything out quite quickly, I tied the vomit-filled carrier bag handles together and left it in the loo, managed to keep down some immodium, and we (barely) made the bus. I'd stuffed my pants with sanitary towels, and had a dozen carrier bags at the ready, but fortunately the bus had a loo, and no accidents were had.

I didn't eat for the next three days though, as I really didn't want to be found dead in a Saigon hotel, leaking at both ends, with an inane grin on my face.



EDIT: I would like to point out that this was the only non-local meal I had for the entire trip, and I really am a very adventurous eater. The fried grasshoppers and beetles in Siep Reap were quite nice. It's ironic that the one western meal I had was also the source of my rectal doom.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 28 Mar 2008, 13:32, 5 replies)

*clicky*
And have a bonus click for sound effects.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 28 Mar 2008, 14:03, closed)

Damn you BobFossil!
Here I am, supposed to be writing up a boring-as-arse article, and instead I am sitting at my desk laughing so much I am actually crying.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Fri 28 Mar 2008, 15:13, closed)

Boik!
*clicks furiously*

So very well told. It may have put me off travelling forever though... ;)
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Fri 28 Mar 2008, 15:22, closed)

MsFossil...
That has to be one of the most hysterical accounts of having the squirts ever.

Have a click.

In fact, have several.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 28 Mar 2008, 23:59, closed)