Projectile vomits
At 15 I went for a sleepover to my mates place where we were going to the cinema. After eating a huge chicken roast dinner, we then retired to her room to drink warm vodka orange with warm sprite that she had stolen off her older sister. Drinking quietly, we thought that eating a big bag of yellowy, twisty things would cover the smell, which it must have as her mum didn't say anything when dropping us off.

This was my first time drinking and it scarred me. The movie was Beetlejuice and during the opening credits I passed out. My mate poked me awake, at which point I looked at her in a wide owly eye look, turned my head and projectile vomited over at least three rows in the cinema.

Screaming ensued. Hot chicken chunks with roast spud were flying out of my mouth like bullets out of an AK 47 hitting random targets without prejudice. I stood up, still vomiting down the stairs and made my way to the loos. I was head to toe with yellowly twisty thing, soaking wet with vodka orange and puking like a unicorn farting never ending love hearts. Girls were in the loo trying to remove hot chicken chunks from their hair, down the back of their shirts, out of their handbags, all the while trying to expunge the memory from their souls with the cheap paper towel of a cinema loo.

In the meantime the movie was stopped and they had to move everyone to any empty seat in the cinema as those rows stunk so bad and there were bucketfuls of vomit everywhere, a la Carrie (yeah, not blood, but I like the imagery).

The point of being a bad house guest is that I puked in her mum's car on the way home - several times. I remember lying in her spare room, cracking the venetians with shaky hands and looking at her mum with a hose, standing 2 metres out from her lovely surburban car and, with her hand over her mouth, hosing out that car like it was an enema party in a colonic farm.

Of course there were friends from high school sitting in the rows behind me, untouched by the demonic firehose spray of chunder, and the next day, as well as the rest of high school, I was known as "that spew girl".
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Sun 9 Jan 2011, 10:16, 3 replies)

Rule #1 of drinking
Never, ever, ever wake someone who has passed out through over-consumption of alcohol without holding a bucket in front of them.

Like your friend, I have learned this the hard way.
( MatJ LOOK, Sun 9 Jan 2011, 11:37, closed)

That Spew Girl.
The worst romantic comedy ever.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 9 Jan 2011, 13:53, closed)

you get click for
like a unicorn farting never ending love hearts!

Bahahaha Awesome
( jakedamusss I understand, and dont care., Mon 10 Jan 2011, 3:34, closed)