School trip
A reasonably long time ago our school took us to a lovely farm in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't just any old farm though, it was a museum farm. It had old wells, which they explained to us was where our ancestors got water - no shit! There were "original" trees from like 150 yrs ago when the original settlers had planted them. Bearing in mind this was in South Africa so 150 yrs there is a long time. Jeez, talk about a shit school outing. The only bit of excitement came during the talk about how they dried grass to make thatched roofs. And no the excitement wasn't the talk, it was glorious interruption engineered by the horny tortoises who decided it would be a good idea to have a casual fuck in front of a class of thirty 12 yr old boys. The sound of the male tortoise wheezing as he mounted his mate was too much to bear for our guide and we were quickly ushered on to a room where the defining and exciting feature was the fact that the floor was made of real cow shit.

At the end of the tour we were allowed to patrol the farm shop 5 at a time and buy anything we wanted, except for the homemade booz. I settled on an ice cream and some chewing tobacco. The ice cream was consumed in breathtaking speed and I decided I would save my tobacco for the trip back. Now in retrospect I'm sure selling chewing tobacco shouldn't be allowed to young kids, but neither the shop nor the teacher who I showed my proud purchase to cared.

We all piled onto the bus and so began our 2.5 hour trip home. I dutifully offered my chewing tobacco to my friends, but on smelling it they all politely declined. Well, I say politely, but it the general tone was more of a 'fuck off with your stinky crap you cunt'. We were a genial lot us. So I got to munching determined to prove my friends that they were missing out on a treat worthy of the Gods of Computer games (for those were the only ones we really worshipped). It was up until that point in my life possibly the second most disgusting thing I have ever eaten(the first being a raison from my bottom which I spotted floating on the water post flush, but that is a story for another QOTW I'm afraid).

I grimaced and chewed until I could chew no more. I then sat in silence as the heady mix of nicotine and spit began to ferment in my stomach. I managed to catch the first few mouthfuls of puke in my mouth and swallow them down again with no one noticing, but as everyone knows once your stomach has pushed the eject button it's only a matter of time before you lose control.

Flashes of my dignity laying in tatters forced the first mouthful to be directed to the floor. My thinking being that if I puked on the floor quietly perhaps no one would notice. Obviously the projectile effect swiftly negated my hastily thought out plan by covering the blazer of the kid in front of me, the entire back of the chair, my legs, my chair and just for good measure a healthy splash back onto my friends lap next to me. My eyes at this point were watering and I was barely coherent, but I was lucid enough to register the punch I got to my arm and an order of 'puke out the window you idiot!'. So with all the elegance of a refugee high jumping an electric fence I hoisted myself up to the window and sprayed my next load. Only it wasn't open! This had the net effect of covering the poor saps behind me. More punches rained down on me from my thoughtful classmates as I frantically tried to open the window. Eventually a hand came from nowhere and opened the window and I thrust my head into the open air and released yet more of the delightful concoction in my stomach.

The whole episode was now being watched by the entire bus. I had somhow managed to cover several of my classmates in my puke and was being watched in bemusement by some and what I would probably call pathological hatred by others. I sat down and surveyed the scene and it wasn't pretty. I did however feel almost back to my old non-tobacco chewing self now that my insides were thoroughly cleaned out. The bus driver had witnessed the entire incident in his rear view mirror and triumphantly informed me over the tannoy that we won't be stopping for another 2 hrs and I should do my best to get comfortable. Looking down at the vinyl seat I realised that the mess wasn't going anywhere. So there we sat, me and my puke covered friends for the remainder of our two hour journey trying to make light of the situation. Me trying to sit so that the mess on my seat wouldn't get to the last clean bit on my pants and them punching me every now and again.

So there you have it - my bus trip story. A bit messy, but it might have been the reason I never started smoking. Who knows?
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Sun 28 Jun 2009, 19:14, Reply)