Witnessing Hurt.
And then, there was this one time...

I’d been at a cocktail party and had challenged Enormous Bruce to a simple sort of competition, first one to vomit wins. Wins what, I can’t remember, kudos and a stomach pumping session in A&E I guess.

Anyway, we duly got smashed on spirits, which is not my strength. The party fizzled out, Enormous Bruce was getting a bit “off tap”, I cut him loose when he started dancing of the roof of an expensive Mercedes, his large bulk was making quite an impression, and I hailed a cab home.

I was blind, reeked of grog, had a serious case of hiccups, and I reckon that taxi driver broke every speed limit getting me home.

Once home, I decided I was a bit peckish (seems to be a theme happening here), so I pounded the shit out of a frozen steak, passed it once or twice over a low flame, and consumed it with about 68 slices of brown bread. At the time, I shared the house with two girls, they thought there was a demented baboon loose in the kitchen at 3:00 am. They later told me they were both huddled in one of their bedrooms, listening to the carnage.

So, I stumble upstairs, and the inevitable is about to happen, so I lean out the window, and let loose with the really weird long thick column of something that resembles wholemeal pancake batter, one continuous stream from mouth to ground, all collected neatly in the large pot plant that sat by the front door.

As I’m leaning out the window, considering the wisdom of our vomit challenge, a group of young pissed blokes is stumbling up the street, loud, drunk, full of bravado.

Outside our house was a big gum tree, one bloke says “you know, if you run fast enough, and lean back at the right time, you can run up a tree”.

Lot of derisive comments from his mates. I’m sort of interested to see what happens next, as I lean out the window, drooling bile and salmonella out my mouth and nose.

Sure enough, he takes a good run up, staggers at a fair rate down the street, and whap! Runs right into the tree. It sounded exactly like someone had dropped a watermelon from a height of four stories onto concrete. A loud slappy wet “crack” noise.

There was a period of quiet, then the last noise I hear, as I pulled my head in to pass out on the bed was “fuck...I’m...really...hurt.”



Apparently an ambulance turned up, but I was a bit tired, and slept right through that bit.
( Ken Oath, Mon 18 Feb 2013, 11:23, 2 replies)

If you are actually Robert G Barrett
I'm gonna call you out on cheating!
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Mon 18 Feb 2013, 11:52, closed)

I think he's actually dead. I used to read his books, like Mills and Boon for blokes. Sort of.
( Ken Oath, Mon 18 Feb 2013, 11:59, closed)

Now I haz a sad.
www.robertgbarrett.com.au/
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Mon 18 Feb 2013, 19:45, closed)