The one time I had to be carried home, with a moral at the end.
At a friend's party. GameCube is on, folk making talk noises, alcohol invades gullets; a fine night all round.

Before long, my own choice of beverage was turning on me. I decided to briefly retire to the bathroom. About an hour later, I was found with my face all up in the bath, under the logic that I didn't want to stop someone using the toilet with my incessant puking.

After a friend of mine rinsed my stomach spawn out of the bath (for which I am eternally grateful) I was carried home by two of my friends. One of which had just vaporised my vomitus. Did I mention I'm eternally grateful?

Three interesting things about that journey home:
1) The should have taken 10 minutes. It took 30.
2) I had to have my trousers pulled up several times. Made a mental note to buy a belt.
3) The one time I had to stop and spew some more, a police car goes by. Decides not to bother with us, thankfully.

No horrible end to this one - I got put in bed, was fine the next day and haven't heard the end of the incident 8 years on.

And what did I learn from this? If you're going to drink vodka and diluting juice, you need to add water too.
( Iki I think my camel is dead., Sun 17 Feb 2013, 22:18, Reply)