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This is a question My Arch-nemesis

I lived in fear of a Darth Vader-esque school dinner lady who stood me perpetually at the naughty table for refusing to eat mushy peas. An ordeal made worse after I was caught spooning the accursed veg into her wellies. Who, we ask, has wrecked your life?

Thanks to Philly G for the suggestion

(, Thu 29 Apr 2010, 12:01)
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As I leaned over...
... and felt the gorge rising, I knew this one was going to be a stonker. Sure enough, from the tips of my toes it started, the spasms rising relentlessly from the ground up, increasing in magnitude as they passed my rugby-toned thighs, and pausing only for the merest moment to induce cramps in my gut, they continued their journey, worsening as they rose.

Chin falling to my chest, there was nothing I could do as the bitter bile, squeezed by a thousand well-ordered muscle clenches, rose in my throat, signaling the inevitability of what was to come. Neck stretching, I hurled the contents of my stomach high into the air, where its arc-like path hung, glistening and dewy-like in the early evening sun.

That was my arched emesis.

What? Arch-nemesis? Oh, never mind. I'll get me coat.
(, Sun 2 May 2010, 3:51, Reply)

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