I have a couple
of interesting stories ...

the first involved this russio-german guy that stayed at my house many times including one stay for three months (as a side note, if youre reading this daniel the reason we no longer talk to you is you were an ass for those three months) ... anyway one newyears i got some friends round and my brother had some of his ... we're in our separate rooms and my lot have some alcohol despite my mum being downstairs and having forbidden us to have any. because we didnt want my brother telling my mum and spoiling the fun we'd got him some too (hard stuff as well, im the first to take responsibility for corrupting my younger brother) ... anyways it was all going fine until two things happened simultaneously ... my nephew (the oldest one, then about 12) is sick because he's had too much to drink, but he's not just sick he's also going off on a crying bender about how its my fault and how we've all had alcohol (and we bought them the alcohol so they WOULDNT say any of this ... grrrr!) ... at the same time daniel goes downstairs after a lot of vodka and beers - super strength, the 9% foul tasting stuff - and decides itll be a good time to try out a pot noodle for the first time ... gimp doesnt know how to make them, so he prepares a shoddy one with COLD WATER (for the uninitiated, it needs to be boiling) and proceeds to eat the powdery goop. not surprisingly he's VERY sick upstairs and theres a massive orange trail on the carpet because altho he made it to the toilet he didnt make it in time ... eejit ... im out of it so my mates manage to clean up as best they can (with my mum going psycho on me) and in the morning i had the pleasant task of stain removing this orange mass with a load of "shake and vac" and lots of holding my breath. just lovely. stain cleared up a few weeks after i was ungrounded.

the only time ive ever been sick on alcohol was at a halloween party, i forgot to eat for six hours before and consumed about a pint of vodka while at the party ... needless to say i was rather hammered, but managed to spend 2 hours getting off with various girls (i dont even remember most of that theres a massive blank in my mind) ... the next thing i know im vomiting over a cardboard cut out of the queen (life size) because i cant aim into the toilet ... eventually im taken upstairs and spend a good hour over a sink vomiting pure vodka and gastric juice from my stomach - hey at least its not thick like real sick. then i passed out on the bed and coughed up some blood onto the pillow apparently ... i was woken up and felt a bit better but the dad still said he'd drive me home, so im walking all over the place because someone put the wrong glasses on my face so the lenses are making my already bad vision worse. best part of the story - i get home and have no keys so i ring the bell and my mum answers the door in the middle of the night and lets me in ... didnt even notice i was drunk !!! :D

oh yeah and i got suspended from school once for having a litre of unsettled vodka jelly on campus ... foul stuff, but a wonderful day or two spent off school ... woo
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 18:27, Reply)

One which doesn't involve alcohol...
When I was about 4 years old I was running around the garden in the typical lunatic fashion. Mum was somewhere nearby, and my brother was on the swing, swinging back and forth at a fair pace.

During my travels around the garden, my mum made sure I was well aware of the fact that running in front of the swing would be sufficiently painful. So, with my head as curious as ever, I made my way closer and closer to the swing to see what happened, until I finally crossed the path of my brother's shoe-bound foot, and I proceeded to bounce across the garden to a tear-filled, dizzying stop. I sat down for a few minutes, my mouth was full of icky blood and my head really was caning, and then this bright white bucket appeared in front of me. I spat in it a few times, and then hurled the rest of my stomach's contents along with it, all mixed up to a gooey red slosh in the bucket.

The funny thing is, as I was barking out all this disgusting concoction, I thought in my little bashed in head that the funny white chunks which came out occasionally were parts of my brain. I don't think I've ever been the complete package since.
(Fuzzy, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 18:12, Reply)

Did you hear about my dyslexic cousin?
He choked on his own Vimto.
(Ash_Pow is now available in extra medium, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 18:06, Reply)

I just remembered a good 'un....
A few years back I was at a house party. I think it was someones 16th or something.

Anywho, my friend, who we will call Paddy (its his name afterall) was given 10 bercardi breezers by his mother to share out between people. Being a teenager and an idiot he decides that drinking all 10 as fast as possible is best.

About 20 minutes later all the bottles have been drunk and hes staggering around like an idiot saying hes gonna be sick.

We drag him to the toilet push him in and shut the door thinking he can do the rest by himself. Waiting outside the door we hear the most horrific puking sounds like something out of a cartoon. The noises are so bad that people start crowding around waiting for him to come out.

When the door finally opens Pad quickly steps out goes down the stairs and tries to leave (but only makes it to the driveway before passing out).

Inside the toilet is like a scene from a horror flick. The walls are covered in pinky-red vomit as is the toilet lid and seat.
He hadnt bothered to lift either before puking resulting in a cascade of vomit outwards...

It was so bad that the walls were repainted.
(Ash_Pow is now available in extra medium, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 18:04, Reply)

Beware the chicken kebab
A late night chicken kebab once returned from the grave with extreme prejudice.
Went to work next day, felt a bit odd, but nothing specific. Around 11am I got bullied into attending a cheese and wine reception, where my plan was to circuit the room with my one glass of wine, then make a swift exit and go home.

Unfortunately, I got snared by the exciting prospect of drinking free wine at the company's expense, and, ooh, five glasses later, was having a whale of a time larking about with the caterers (everyone else had left)...

The next thing I know, I'm in the lavs, throwing up everything I've ever eaten, and some more. Eventually I parked my right cheek on the bog seat, so I could chuck without even raising my head.

You know how when you're drunk, and throw up, and instantly feel better? Doesn't work with food poisoning.

About 2pm, I passed out. Three hours later, I am rudely awoken by the cleaners banging on the cubicle door because it's gone five and they want in. Not only have I managed to fill the bog TO THE BRIM with yellow puke, but have also cacked myself whilst unconscious.

With all the dignity I could muster, I staggered to my feet, opened the door, walked past the the cleaner with a cheery "Good evening". And immediately left the building.

I didn't even manage to flush. Although I did put an extra pound in the cleaners christmas fund, so I'm not all bad.

Final note to the unwary - the best thing to drink after profuse kebab-related vomiting is NOT pineapple juice.
(sags tupac-a-hats, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 17:59, Reply)

If anyone...
here puked on me on the way back from the proms the other week...do tell
(ibehappy, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 17:53, Reply)

Double Dumper
My mates had a house party a few years back, as you do when you're 16 and your parents go on holiday leaving you unattended. About 20 of us descended on this house, and after drinking all the beer we brought with us, the next logical thing was to drink our way through his parents drinks cabinet. Not one by one, but all at once mixed up in a massive fruit bowl. Suprising everyone made it to bed without puking, but i woke up 2 hours later, with my bladder on fire storm into my mates bathroom to find him completely naked puking his guts up. He tells me he's nearly done, with chunks dripping down his chin, goes for a final wretch and a little nugget popped out the other end. He still hasn't lived it down.
(PacStar, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 17:49, Reply)

Hogman-vom-ay
Last night in a Scottish cottage at New Year, we decided we couldn't be bothered taking home the bottles which had been opened - so we drank them. Memories after this point are fuzzy, but there was certainly weird shit like Kahlua and Cointreau, as well as vodka, gin, sherry etc.
Next morning, I got up with 30 seconds to go before we had to leave, threw on clothes (room spinning), managed to drink water, and got into my brothers brand new Alpha Romeo. White leather upholstery. Nice.
Ten minutes later the alcohol poisoning combined with Scottish roads that go both up and down, as well as left and right, produced an uncontrollable projectile fluorescent green vomit. Think Exorcist, and you'd not be far wrong.
Managed to throw up into a plastic carrier bag, but the "safety" holes just sprayed the vom further, like a sprinkler system.
The offending bag was dumped into a skip in a layby, where it probably sits to this day, like toxic waste.
And we sat with the smell all the way to the Midlands.
(sags tupac-a-hats, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 17:39, Reply)

Not too long ago
end of GCSE's (few weeks back now) me and some mates go out for a drink...

5 pints of Stella, a kebab, KFC, cheese and mayo on chips and a go on a roundabout at the local park left a very satisfied 16 year old.

Eventually I Get home, get on the internet, fall off chair and puke me guts out all over my wardrobe doors and carpet, whole pieces of kebab and chicken came out....yummy :D
(mupps, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 16:26, Reply)

Last two, I promise
1. In my eighth month of pregnancy I thought I caught the flu. It wasn't. Unbeknownst to me, I had a pregnancy related ulcer and was throwing up blood. My hubby was on a skiing trip in Montreal (7 hours away before cell phones so therefore unreachable)

I barfed everywhere: Something that looked like soupy coffee grounds and smelled like hot iron down my bulgy front, behind the toilet, in the family room, in the fridge (I was hunting for a 7 Up). I was all alone, in no shape to clean and getting progessively weaker and more confused staggering around the house. My friend Stacy came over and took one look before bundling me off to hospital. I was fine after that and 10 liters of IV fluid.

But my poor husband came home a day later to a house bereft of spouse, no note where the hell I was and the entire place reeking of fermenting blood and puke. He said later he thought if I'd been abducted, he pitied the kidnappers.


2. I had a patient complaining of nausea. I duly told the doc and he ignored me. (I need a doctor's order to give anti-emetics) She pleaded for help and I asked again. He was eating his dinner and told me he'd see her in a minute. I stomped back into her room to try and comfort her when she asked me to get something on the floor next to her bed. I knelt down and just as I raised my head, she eeped and hurled right on the top of my head. It was like a shower of puke. Chunks were dripping down my face, lodged in my hair, rolling down my bosom, yuck.
The best part of this was I walked into the doctor's lounge and stood over Dr. Lazy. With vomity pieces of apple plopping into his burrito, I said completely deadpan, "I think Miss Walters needs something for nausea." Then I turned and marched out.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 16:23, Reply)

Nude vomiting
Christmas Eve is always a good excuse for a drink, with festive cheers and pubs open till twelve. For some reason, I decided that the toilets in the pub weren't good enough, so walked outside and proceeded to piss up the wall. The night air hit me and I managed to collapse straight back, lying in the pub car park and pissing all over my chest. A large piece of wood with a small nail in had luckily cushioned my head, so when I did sit up it was with a swinging wooded ponytail protruding from my head. After removing said wood, the best option was to sit down, which I did on a low wall of a neighbouring house, waking up some time later in the garden with a man shouting at me for lying in his rosebush. What else for a good Catholic lad to do than sway into Midnight Mass? (Luckily, God's bouncers kept me out of the church with a firm push - vomiting at Midnight Mass was a common event). Got back to parent's house and stripped off (they were at Midnight Mass - close escape) then went to the toilet to be sick. Unfortunately, squatting and vomiting led to the other end opening, with the result of a heavily shit-stained lino floor in the bathroom. Waking up ther next morning with no idea of whether I'd cleaned it up was NOT the best way to celebrate ickle Baby Jeebus' birthday, though it was never mentioned, so I assume I mopped my way to redemption.
Apologies for length of poo.
(limeskies, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 15:47, Reply)

too much vodka
A few years ago we'd got to the end of a project at work and money was put behind the bar at a nearby pub. All was well and good up until the end of the evening when some bright spark decided to ask how much money was still behind the bar. It turned out there was still over £100, so in our slightly inebriated state we all agreed that we'd buy a bottle of vodka and go back to a nearby house. We didn't have much left in the kitty for any mixers, but we managed a couple of bottles of coke.

Back at the house, the vodka flowed and much cheer was had. Until we ran out of coke, then it was just neat vodka and I don't remember much after that.

What I do remember is waking up some hours later to find myself and the sofa covered in vom. Not good. I do my best to tidy myself up, and go back to sleep. A few hours later the flatmate of the person who's house I was in comes back, who also happens to be the landlord. I'm kicked out of the house at 4am in the morning, no taxi, and its flaming freezing. Eventually make it back home and crawl in to bed.

However, the story doesn't end there; the net result of my spewing session on the sofa was my work colleague being kicked out of the house 3 weeks before xmas. That was a difficult few months at work….

Sorry for length
( proteus, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 15:38, Reply)

I've just remembered, a story about my mate....
It's not mainly about vomiting, but it's a good drunk story.

1996. We were 18, had been out in Manchester, on the piss. We called at McDonalds, and my mate staggered off to the bogs. 20 mins later, still not appeared, so I go in to see if he's ok, I hear him chundering into the toilet, ask if he's ok. He says "Yeah, i'll be out in a minute" so I go back out to the main eating area. about another 20 mins later, he's still in there, so I walk into the bogs and find him slumped in one of the urinals. So me and another guy drag him to the chosen driver's car and take him home.

We get him outside his house, he opens the door and falls out on to the pavement. Tells us to leave him there. So me and another guy pick him up, put his arms around our shoulders and start walking him up his driveway, when we see a light come on in the house. it's about 3am. His mum answers the door, to see us virtually carrying her only son, who's staggering, mumbling and drooling his way to the door, and the words that came out of her mouth I will never forget as long as I live.

Those words were:

"Is he drunk?"

I promise you, this is 100% true.
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 14:47, Reply)

Variety is the spice of life
It seems most posts here are about alcohol. One of my most memorable events was having some sort of tummy bug while at living on campus at uni, and not being able to stomach the campus food. Accordingly, I thought 5 or 6 chocolate milks would do the trick for lunch. I have since learnt that the stomach can't digest milk properly, but that day it was a bit of a surprise when I found things getting suddenly worse. I made a dash from the dining room across the courtyard, up the stairs and almost to the door of the bathroom before letting the milk go over the walls. At least I kept some inside for the sink and the toilet. I forget who cleaned it up.

My worst alcoholic event must be when I went out with some workmates one Friday, and had some green drink out of a shaker (and lots of repeats of it). I wasn't yet used to trying to pass out in gutters, so had the great idea of going back to work to lie down. I passed out on the floor under my table, and woke briefly to vomit on the carpet. A couple of hours later I woke again, and this time made it to the toilet to vomit before returning to lie down close to the original pile of vom. A few hours later I woke up dehydrated, but aware enough to be shocked at the smell and sight soaking in the carpet. Despite the hangover I cleaned it as best I could, smearing greasy vom into the carpet. I caught the train home and came back later with carpet cleaner and a vacuum. Despite numerous applications, it was a obvious stain and smelt terrible (being Sydney in summer with no air-con didn't help). Finally I covered it with a bin and went home. Monday had many comments on the smell, but no-one twigged. A week later it was still obvious in the air. It was 9 months before I moved desks, and I could still smell it and see the patch. It was only after I left that employer that I felt that I was safe enough to start boasting of that night.

Carpet cleaner will make me want to throw up every time, even now.
(Skippyfillet, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 14:46, Reply)

Aberdeen
About 10 years ago, I went up to Aberdeen to visit a friend from school. I arrived on the friday night, and the first thing we did was go to the offy to get some booze. His flatmates were a good bunch of people, and it looked like it was going to be a good weekend. Back then hooch had just come out, so we decided it was a great mixer. We dropped the booze off, and by this time it was time to go get a drink at the nearby students union. Nothing much happened on the friday night, we all got a bit tipsy, had a laugh, and came back to the flat, went to sleep at about 2am. So the next day we're all up and about, and by 11am we decide it's drinky time. So from then on we're drinking vodka and hooch. (Oh, hooch is alcoholic lemonade for the young uns). Drinking continues all day, and at night we head off into Aberdeen to the main students union. It was decorated something to do with Lord of the Rings - weird place. When we get there we start drinking these tequila things. I think it was just a shot of tequila, with an equal amount of lemonade. I have well over a dozen of these. So I'm talking to some bird, and getting on fine, when I realise I'm going to burp, doesn't worry me, it's only a burp... except it wasn't, I shut my mouth in time, no doubt looking a bit worried, froze my head in place, and then puked my guts out, all down her jeans and over her shoes. No idea why, but I _still_ managed to pull her, and went back to her flat - which was fucking cold if I remember.
( Halk, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 14:39, Reply)

Made it to the loo, but spent about 20 minutes in there
On realising that I'd be moving out to Switzerland really soon, me and my (now ex) boyfriend decided to take some acid (my first time). We thought it'd be a great idea to do it at a mates house after work (where we both took too much speed and drink, and then decided to get our hair cut whilst tripping 'cause we're both THAT smart).
Due to not taking it before I didn't realise that you have no idea what you've taken, or when you had it, or why the room is coloured and moving. I proceeded to puke a hell of a lot (in the toilet, as I'm a good guest) for 20 minutes. Believing to this day that I was in there for more than an hour (I just messaged the ex for the real time) watching my green and purple swirly, moving spew (actually beer coloured and not moving at all) and making me feel worse, making me puke more. Just thinking about it makes me... oh god... I'll be back in about 20 minutes...
(carpediem, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 14:37, Reply)

last night (sat) i was out with friends for a few bevvies. nothing wrong there. made it home safely. so far so good.

hungover today, i'm assaulted by the message board with a barrage of warping/flashing/spacking pictures which.... oh god....

*pukes*


urgh.... :(
( sex and dougs and rock n roll, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 13:43, Reply)

I
got pissed up one night and went home to my bed. As soon as I was in my bed the room began to spin wildly out of my control so I had to vomit to help straighten things up a bit, but I was far from the toilet and too boozy to get there so I spied my bin in the corner of my room. I was still in my bed as I vomed up and tried to arc my spew over my room into the bin, once I was satisfied that I no longer needed to honk I passed out and woke up to a horror scene quite frankly, no vomit made it into the bin only a little on the side :( all of my vom lay spread over all my floor and all my clothes nice real nice. It totally stank and it made me honk all over again this time I made the toilet.
(chossy, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 13:38, Reply)

primary school puke
When i was 6 i woke up feeling very ill, but still went into school. Standing up in the hall where the whole school attended for morning prayers, i valiantly tried to stop myself being sick all over my classmates. End of prayers, i walk upto the headmaster to tell him i'm going to be sick and then redecorate his pants and shoes with my breakfast. Sorry Mr Kehoe that you had to wear shorts and sandals for the rest of the day, but i got to go home (weeeee!)
(ubersnack, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 13:28, Reply)

when i was at uni
my mate was home alone and drank two bottles of wine and had a fair few blasts on a bong. he chundered liberally everywhere, and for some reason poured the remaining wine all over the wall. the next day he decided the best way to clean up after himself would be to hoover up his little accident. For the next year, whenever anyone hoovered, the house immediately smelt of sick.
( krang, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 13:19, Reply)

another saucepan related vom
Me and some mates went out in Barnstaple, which sucks so we decided to get as rat-arsed as possible. After a night of heavy drinking, we went for a 'bab and asked for these big yellow extremely unappetising chilli things on it. We gobbled the lot and headed back to my mate's house, where we were staying that night.

Feeling a bit worse for wear, I decided to induce a spot of the old psychedelic yodelling. My mate, whose house we were staying at, grabbed a saucepan so I could fill it with my chunder. Like some kind of stinking virus, the smell of my vomit triggered spontaneous vomitting in two of my other mates, so there were three of us gathered around, transferring the vile contents of our stomachs into the saucepan. One person's vom smells bad enough, three people's is something else. And there, amongst the anonymous foam were two perfectly formed chillis (i had eaten them rather fast).

The worst part was the next day, when two of my mates got up before me and couldn't work out what to do with the offending saucepan. There then followed a conversation that went something like this:

mate #1: "We should put it down the toilet."
mate #2: "No, we should pour it down the sink."

So for some reason they rejected any kind of rational thought and poured it down the sink. It didn't fit down the plughole. The chillis were still there. So my unwitting mates had to fish the vomit (plus chillis) out of the sink and down the toilet.

Suffice to say, a good time was had by all.
( krang, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 13:14, Reply)

Excuse me please
Once when I was about 15 I was in a club. A very poor local type of club with lame music and cheap watered down metallic tasting drinks! Anyway on this said night, I had consumed about 5 pints of Fosters Club (The worst). Ok so far and then I had a bright idea, I was getting "bored" of the pints of Club so I grabbed a pint of Red Rock Cider. Down it went.
Leaning over a railing with the crappy soundsystem straining my ear drums, the 2nd hand Silk Cut smoke wafting over me I began to feel quite queasy.
I am a civilized chap so I made my way to the gents knowing what was inevitable.
I made it to the toilet. 3 ladies were blocking the entrance.
"Excuse me" I said
"Excuse me please"
"Excuse me please, I must get passed"
Suddenly a huge violent bile beer foam power vomit projected itself straight all over one of these stupid fucks pushed up tits, all over her tits and then some.
That made them get out of the way and as I barged my way passed I heard one of them squeak "That's fucking disgusting!"
So I made it in knelt before the throne and dealt with it, all the while thinking that when I emerged some knuckle dragging goon would be out there waiting for me "You fuckin' puked on my bird cunt?"

I pushed my way outside. No one, no vomit girls no boyfriends. I felt much better and pleased with myself too.
(booionic, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 12:32, Reply)

not me my brother, and written by him
One day a few years ago i was drinking away at a party and we ran out of sensible things to drink, so began making strange cocktails out of say ketchup and vodka (not good) and guinness and say mayo (not good, not good at all). So eventually my mate says whos going to drink some washing up liquid then? i hear some one shout "only if you mix it with vodka!" i realised it was me that said it right after i did. oh dear. so my mate being the mate he is, pretended to put vodka in and i downed a reasonable 3 or 4 fingers of yellow goo. "feeling fine" i belched. after about half an hour, belly quivering and shaking like an earth quake, i fought my way to the kichen sink and barfed like ive never barfed before. i remember someone saying "look hes throwing up bubbles" and me shouting "piss off, im not" just as i blew a good 2 inch bubble out my nose. mmmm chunky bubble filled sink. turns out washing up liquid is a laxative too and it turns you guts to greased lightning. im acually feeling sick just remembering this. a good time all round i feel.
(Lord Gibbon, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 12:31, Reply)

A few years ago
I went round to a mates house for the standard let's get drunk off cheap beer scenario. Which i duely did. After a while of this, i was feeling fine and decided to go for a dump. I don't know whether the force of the dump or the beer caused me to pass out but i did. I remember waking up with my face in a sink full of vomit, turd hanging down and my troussers round my ankles. I drained the sink, shook the turd off and went back to sleep.

My mate took photos. The fuck.
(generalname, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 12:18, Reply)

Last but not least
Same friend as the story below. House party this time, and he was sick out of an upstairs window.

It rained heavily that night, so we assumed it would all wash off before the parents got home the next day.

How wrong we were. We hosed the front of the house down, but to our horror we realised that the acid in Andy's sick had actually bleached the paint on the front of the house in a big splattery stain.
To make matters worse, he had also vommed a large amount of rice into the upturned leaves of a yukka plant placed near the front door, which we had to spoon out with our fingers.
( expf, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 11:48, Reply)

I'm afraid I have a few of these
We were driving a friend home who had got very drunk at a party.
He wound down the window and tried to throw up out of it, but we were doing about 60 on the dual carriageway, and most of the sick blew back into the car. He also got quite a lot down the gap where the window goes into the car door.

Result: every time we wound up the window for the next year at least, the window would have picked up a new bit of dried sick from inside the doorframe.

"What have we got this time?" "Oo, looks like some pot noodle."
( expf, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 11:46, Reply)

Steve's worst vomit
Not me, but a friend, but this definitely was my fault.

Back at university, I convinced a friend Steve to try out the joys of Special Brew for the first time. "How many should I get?" asked Steve, trustingly. "Oh, about three to get right off your tits" I suggested.

So we went to the party, and Steve duly had all three. We then didn't see him for three days.

When he finally limped round on the fourth, it transpired that upon returning home, he had been too drunk to find the lightswitch in his bedroom, and trodden on the open jaws of a ring binder. The claw bits sank right in to his foot, which is where he found them the next morning. As well as bleeding everwhere during the night, the pain and spesh had caused him to also vommit all over himself, and his wounded foot, before passing out in the resulting mess.

Sorry Steve, I still feel a bit guilty.
( expf, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 11:42, Reply)

Flaming Lamborghini
One night my mates and I decided to to have a "Flaming Lamborghini" which, as the name suggests, is one of these ignited alcoholic drinks with about five shots of tequila in one glass. The idea is that you're meant to drink the entire thing before the straw melts. Well I'm not much of a spirit drinker but one of my friend is skulling this shit like it's water, so I'm being very competative and trying to keep up. I finish it and I feel my stomach churn. About a minute later I run to the toilet, but before I could even reach the door I promptly eject my techicolour yawn all over the floor with practically the entire night club watching. When I reach the toilet I've essentially finished my business. I come out and the bouncers kick me out out the street under the impression I'm completelt slaughtered. I wasn't even drunk I just drank to fast and took in a lot of air, plus the drink tasted like shit.
(afroboy, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 11:37, Reply)

Learning that first valuable lesson
When I was about 16 one of my mates had their house to themselves for the weekend, so naturally to comply with the unwritten rules of teenagerdom, there was a massive teenage party duly organised.
After the beer ran dry we inevitably started on his parents' drinks cabinet. Advocaat, Gin, Cherry Brandy, it all got drunk.
I slept in an attic room, and in the middle of the night woke with that unmistakable urge. I panicked as there was nowhere to puke, so I opened the skylight and vomited out onto the tiled roof.
The funny part is that the vomit somehow stained the slate. That house has had a mystery streaked area where moss grows ever since. 10 years later I've been past and its still there. One day I'll take my grandkids and show them that streak and be able to say "I did that".
(alfwine buggerbridge, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 10:55, Reply)