Would you like your dinner mashed?
Just remembered this one, although I'd been trying my best to forget it. For some reason at my primary school, the dinner ladies would offer to mash your dinner up, presumably to make it more appetising (did this happen to anybody else?) Anyway, the first day I ever tried liver I had one veg instead of the usual two with it - leaving a space on the plate. After the first mouthful of liver, I realised what would become a lifelong hatred and fear of the stuff and puked on my plate - filling the space remarkably neatly. The ensuing revulsion and laughter from the kids sitting around me brought one particularly nasty dinner lady to the table, who proceeded to mash my 'dinner' angrily without the usual enquiry, or realising a third of it was puke. I ran away from the table, and the wall of laughter and pointing, in tears. Bastards.
(Bimdian, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 11:23, Reply)

The creeping terror
After a fun day at Alton Towers as a child my dad was driving us home when I felt a bit nauseous. We stopped outside a shop and my mum ran in to get some soda water for me. I followed, got lost in the shop, and found myself standing in a small alcove, next to a fridge full of butter and cheese. The sight of so much greasy food made me spew all over the fridge, and my last memory of the incident was seeing a mass of Delicando butter under threat from a pink creeping terror, slowly oozing across the cold cabinet. Did I tell the shopkeeper? No. I told my mum and we legged it. I've never seen Delicando butter since.
(nasalhair The Twix guy!, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 11:19, Reply)

in all my 33 yrs on God's own earth
I've never once vomited, other than that which I assume I did as a small baby, but otherwise, never. Am I strange ?
(BigHorace, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 11:16, Reply)

Bright Pink vomit
I think the worst vomit that ever happened to me was when I was a kid - I had some minor illness or other and was given this bright pink medication for it - problem was I was allergic to the colouring and spent a good afternoon vomiting bright pink goo - it was honestly almost flourescent pink. I'm still not too fond of pink to this day...
(I_AM_MY_EVIL_TWIN_SELF, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 10:40, Reply)

bus + crap hat + cocktails
It's not amazing, so i'll make it short.

Take one "Cocktail Society Night" (named "coc Soc" to keep the youngsters tittering all night) and make it 50p a cocktail.

bunch of students.... one wearing a pink/purple hat of extreme crapulence (me), Drink LOTS, Return to halls on Bus.

Feel the surge, and the obvious ensues... make awesome decision to use this fleece-hat as a barf bag... SUCCESS!!! NO SPILLAGE!! but, the journey has only just started... so I cunningly place the aforementioned hat on the lap of the lad next to me. He was fast asleep, and it seemed like a great idea to me.

Fleece hats leak. They're like coffee filters!!

As the bus went over the penultimate speed bump, I removed the hat and held it out of his sight.. and exited the bus to hear him saying "shit... some bastard spilt nasty shit all over my jeans". Fair comment.... he was wearing white jeans, and lt looked like he'd spilt lots of tobasco on them.... funny that.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 23 Aug 2004, 10:21, Reply)

Park&Vomit
Sat on the second level of a double decker after a night where works open bar policy was in full effect, I managed to vomit a mixture of everything I had drank into my hands and slightly out the tiny window, and worse part, The bus had'nt actuallyy started moving yet and i had 20 minutes of old men in suits staring at me and looking disgusted, can't wait til nxt open bar
(Dave_uk_01, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 9:54, Reply)

Rob, I'll see you and raise you one tequila.... Ooh dare I?
Ok WTF, nobody here knows me in real life.

I was flying to Central America in the morning and the previous night someone challenged me to a tequila shot contest thing. I'm not a big drinker but can drink anyone under the table when it comes to tequila and I did. The next morning I woke up early so I could get to Heathrow in time for my flight. I felt fine, had a bath and in the middle of washing my feet I got a sudden urge an projectile vomited the previous night's RED Ruby Murray (curry, for the non-Brits) everywhere. It never stopped. The bathroom was covered with red stuff. Ceiling, floor, tiles, mats, the works. I cleaned up as best I could because my flat was on the market and there was a chance that prospective buyers would view while I was away. In between projectile vomiting I managed to get myself together and into the cab. I was still being sick so the cabbie gave me a plastic bag and I vomited into that all the way to the airport, ready to dump the vomit bag into the nearest bin before entering the Terminal.
Trouble is, there was a high-security ring of people around the terminal because of a bomb warning that weekend. The bins were all sealed. I had to enter the terminal with my Sainsbury's bag full of vomit. NOBODY was allowed into the terminal without a body and luggage search. The policewoman approached me and asked me if she could check my bags. "You don't want to do that" says I, "Why not?" she asked. So I had to tell her. She was suspicious, didn't believe me and insisted she checked it. Poor thing nearly upchucked herself! She escorted me to the loo where I disposed of the contents.

I cringe now but at the time I felt so wretched I couldn't give a damn.

It gets worse. I phoned my aunt from the airport and asked her to clean up the bathroom and quick because of prospective buyers! All the bathroom bits were white (the mat, towels, etc) and I couldn't clean it all in my state. My aunt, bless her, did come in and clean the bathroom.
My aunt's big fat incontinent mother-in-law was visiting her at the time....

When I got home a few weeks later, I walked into the bathroom to find the most gigantic pair of incontinence knickers pegged to the shower rail, a pair of handcuffs hanging from my 4 poster bed, a bottle of tequila on the pillow next to a tube of KY Jelly. My aunt's revenge!
( Flowerpot No longer has the vapours thanks to DTH, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 9:19, Reply)

and another
I spent a few months working in a class for autistic three year olds. One day at circle time, one of the little ones who didn't talk goes "Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii," his usual cry when he is about to bite/scratch/kick someone. This time he instead vomited an amazing amount of puke for a thin, sickly little boy all over his front where it puddled in his lap before running down the legs of his tiny chair. He was more upset that we stopped the song than he was about being covered in his breakfast.
( gracielou, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 7:26, Reply)

I spent two summers working at a summer camp for blind children.
One particularly hot and humid week, the plumbing in the lower row of cabins exploded, the pressure forcing a crack into a huge slab of concrete, flooding the cabins with waste water and forcing us to double up in the upper cabins. After settling the children in to the available beds, a smelly, rusty cot was found in storage for my use. Either the toxic mould growing on the cot or exposure to raw sewage got the best of me. Just before sunrise I woke, projectile vomiting in a perfect eight foot line between the rows of bunkbeds with sleeping children. I was sick again in the toilet, and then had the pleasure of cleaning up my mess while trying not to wake 24 blind children - the lightest sleepers in the world. Then there was the half mile hike (thank god it was downhill) to the nurse's office, stopping to throw up along the way. The nurse wasn't in for two more hours.
( gracielou, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 7:12, Reply)

Milky vomit
Three of my friends once decided to find out if one could actually drink an entire gallon of milk within an hour. We popped in a crappy movie (something with Heath Ledger, I think), opened up the jugs, and the milk-gulping began. After one hour, each jug was about 1/8 full. For the next hour and a half after that, they vomited pure curdled milk into a triple-lined garbage bin. One of my friends actually managed a constant stream of regurgitated moo-juice for 11 seconds straight (yes, I had a stopwatch). Now, I thought I was being all mature and whatnot by not drinking a gallon jug of milk, but when dared to look into and smell a garbage bin half full of rancid milk and stomach juices (I accepted of course), I put in my own fair share of belly bile.
(Sawtooth, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 6:16, Reply)

Jakarta Jive
I wouldn't normally admit to vomming up, but this story is rather special.

I had just moved back to Jakarta after a 6-year absence. To celebrate my return, I was met at the airport by my mate and we drank our way across the city from Kota to Kemang. Some time in the morning we decide to break in to the Hilton to swim in the pool. I am feeling woozy. As we pull up to the roadblock (since the Marriot bomb all the hotels in Jakarta have heavy security) I realise it's not going to stay down. But the car is being approached by four edgy soldiers with rifles. So rather than make a sudden dash for the bushes and get shot, I decide to forget about my dignity and chuck quietly in the taxi.

Then we calmly and coolly walked through the Hilton hotel, dripping with vom, stripped naked and swam in the pool.
(junglejim, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 4:26, Reply)

oh and one time my friend puked on my couch
I still dont have a cushion
(Human, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 3:54, Reply)

my first time...
so, this would be the lovely first time i had even been drunk....

My girlfriend and I were to go to a lil overnight party in her friends basment. were we would drink vodka and cranberry, and what ever assorted coolers made it our way. now heres the intresting part, this my first time drinking heavily so i took it easy. how ever my girlfriend did not. and she made the mistake of finishing off someones micky in a hurry.

the thing about this party was, there was only one toilet. and no real access to any sinks or buckets near buy. now with all of us being un-mature drinkers the toilet remained occupied with sick people through out the night.so when it came time for her vodka to escape the confines of her body the only un-occupied containment unit was a cat litter box.

so it was intresting to have to explain to her the next morning that yes, she indeed was puking in a cat litter box.

and so i dont sound like a jerk for posting this, she asked me to... and i ended up in that very bathroom a few weeks later when i learned what tequila was...
(Longshoreman, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 3:53, Reply)

another...
I didn't realise how much I've been sick in my life....

21st birthday, house party, had been taking it easy, until it hit midnight (and I actually turned 21), and then the rule of drinking what ever you are given was enforced. Random person concocts a cocktail, pint glass, half amaretto, half lemonade, drink curdles, I stirred it with a chop-stick. I downed it in one.

I don't remember much after that. The next day discovered I had been sick out my upstairs window, it had smeared all down the window and onto the roof bit below, red from the barbeque pizza I had eaten, complete with roasted onions. I think the stains are still there. Oh and I had random red bits on my carpet and clothes, I think they may have been sick too.

Still haven't got my damage deposit back, but then the landlord is a bit of a tit. (If you have a slightly dodgy Asian landlord called "Jimmy" in Nottingham, you wont't be getting your damage deposit back, no matter how nice you are...)
(gerg, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 1:20, Reply)

Leg
After a few too many student shandies on loan cheque day (shandies compromising of whisky and miscellaneous spirits, £4.50 a glass from very dodgy local bar), I headed back up to campus to meet a male friend (no not like that) who was working late on a deadline. He was very sober, and thus had a good steady grip on me over the loo (no not like that) whilst I merrily vomited whilst chattering happily away. A misaimed projectile vom landed straight down loyal friend's leg, but don't worry, he was very understanding.

Four months later, I notice a streak of chunky yellowness down my mate's jeans. "What's that?" I ask. "It's your sick. I haven't got round to cleaning these jeans yet".

Dirty bastard.
(b3tasux, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 1:15, Reply)

pink and peachy
i must have been about seventeen, and there's a very nice local pub for local people around here where you can have a double shot of any flavoured vodka for £1.

so i set out on my quest to become one of the less sober people, and was partying on the strawberry vodka and lemonades all night.

having eaten that day

one peach.


so at 11:20pm, things are going a bit blurry, and i remember vaguely staggering down the high street with a friend under each arm trying to stop me falling over/walking into a wall.

stopped off at the local dodgy kebab/chicken shop, and got some chips. then got into daddy's car and went for a nice drive home.

i managed about two chips before i started feeling like i was going to see the strawberry vodka again, so i just opened the window and tried to breathe in the lovely woodland air from the lovely woods on the way home.

i managed the 20 minute drive, the wait for daddy to find his door keys and the run up the stairs to the bathroom.

only to eject my day's consumptions over the floor in front of the toilet. mmm! interestingly you could see what i had eaten as there were 4 lumps of peach and 2 perfectly whole chips in the middle of transparent dayglo pink vodka sick (fizzy).

mummy and daddy were very nice about it, and even cleaned up for me, probably because i am a happy, loving drunk and at one point (during later vomiting into the actual loo this time) told my daddy that i loved him very much and i would hug him if he would stop spinning, please.


the only other vaguely interesting vomstory i have is when i went out as a fresher. me and a friend from halls used to buy cheap safeway vodka/meths stuff (barcode label!) and drink that with coke before we went out in order to save money. one tuesday evening on the voddy we were all ready to go out so i ran out of her room, tumbled down two flights of stairs (completely fucking my ankle in the process), sprinted for the bus to camden, and on the 27 bus from paddington to camden managed to spew all over the floor. not a drop on myself, mind. but i think being alcoholically induced sick on the way to the place you are going is probably a sign of needing professional help from the AA.


oh and once i was sick in feet first for two hours and the guy who was trying to get it on with me was still waiting outside the ladies' for me when i came out. i felt sorry for him so i downed a pint of water and then snogged him. HA!
(corruptia, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 23:25, Reply)

my 18th birthday
On my 18th birthday me and 3 friends all went out and got annihilated on various booze from grappa, to Jegermeister, to cidrer, alchopops and beer. after a drunken attempt to get into a night club, we returned home, only for all of us to be sick at various times into a bucket which was left on the floor. At this point i collapsed on the floor, hitting my head on the raditaor and knocking myself out.

heres the nasty bit

When i came to all i can remember needed to do is vom. My simple drunken brain saw a bucket stood up infront of me (remember im still horizontal), and with 2 hands grabbed said bucket and rotated 90 degrees towards me for easy vom access. Sadly, as previously stated it was full of (4 peoples) puke. Thus, i got a few litres of mixed vomit in the face. Not that i cared much as i preceded to pass out, 18 for 21 hours and already lost all my adult decency - rar!
(bazmataz, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 23:22, Reply)

Many years ago....
Back in something like year 9 (about 15 years old), me and my friends thought the best thing in the world was to buy a shedload of cheap alcopops and go sit in a slightly secluded area of a local park (classy I know), and get blind drunk.

The night in question was a night where I had stolen a bottle of the cheapest dirtiest most vile vodka you could possibly imagine from my parents booze cabinet (it was in a plastic bottle and called "Bokma", if anybody has drunk it, you have my eternal pity). A few days previous we had purchased one of those "One, Two, Three, Floor" shot glass sets that are meant for tequila, we thought it would be fun to do sets of four shots of this white spirit-esque beverage in a row. I went first, and nobody else would do it, so in an effort to prove a point I did it twice more. Needless to say 12 shots of cheap nasty vodka in the space of about 15 minutes will hurt come winter, and within about half an hour I was lying flat on my back in the middle of this park projectile vomiting. Due to the evils of physics, the projectile vomit was flying a good 2 feet in the air, then coming straight back down and splatting on my poor inebriated face. After about an hour or two of this sort of thing, I finally got up and wandered over to a bench, to find a few of my now-drunk friends. There was a girl who was known as a bit of a rancid whore called Aiofe (earlier in the year a friend of mine had drunkenly pulled her, realised what he had done and tried to burn his face off with a lighter). She took advantage of me in my paralitic state, but luckily for me I was a bit aware of what was going on at this point in time, and ran home.

Then I woke up in the morning with a huge vomit stain on the wall next to my head, and my hair stuck to the pillow. Good times.

I appologise for the length but I feel the enjoyment of a good anecdote is deeply rooted in the back stories. The end.
(Jon Norris, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 23:18, Reply)

New Years Eve - 31/12/1999
Went to a friends for a bit of a dinner party - I can't remember how many courses there were, but there were a few. Once this was consumed I started on the alcohol. Trouble is, I didn't stop and a few hours later I started to feel ill so I made my way upstairs to my friends toilet.
Next thing I remember is finding myself laying on the bathroom floor. I then noticed that the walls, ceiling and floor were covered in sick, where I had projectile-vomited the contents of my by-now brimming and gurgling stomach around her bathroom. There was also a football-sized solid lump of fused toilet paper and chunder lodged in her u-bend.
(babery was never here, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 22:38, Reply)

Here we go again...
everytime I hear the kebab shop tune play, I vomit into my mums teacup...groan...
(lifelikeandposeable, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 22:28, Reply)

School skiing trip
On a 24 hour coach journey,we decided to buy some trays of booze on the ferry for when we arrived.One amongst us (step forward Mr Anderson) bought a bottle of cherry brandy,which he consumed alone.Partway through France,the cheeky beverage longed for freedom from Patrick's inhospitable stomach.He was given a carrier bag to recieve the fruity goodness.The useless twat manages to spew into the wrong end of the bag,which resulted in a river of sticky pink yak running towards the front of the bus,soaking its way into my Ellis Brigham backpack.Mr Scott the geography teacher was most displeased and took it upon himself to threaten the lad next to him with physical violence unless he made sure Pat had a bag to be sick in,which was most confusing as he had his head in a bag at the time.The teachers confiscated all our booze for a few days before they gave us back what they hadn't drunk themselves.
(archroy Get down wi' yer bad self., Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:49, Reply)

If You're Tired, You're Tired!!!
I was once so drunk that I woke up in the middle of the night and puked all over my mattress, whilst trying to find the bag at the side of the bed. When I eventually found the bag, I missed it and emptied the remaining contents of my stomach all over the bedroom floor (whilst leaning in the initial deposit). Not too enamoured with the thought of spending half an hour cleaning the floor and changing the bed clothes, I put my head back back down on my digested food-splattered pillow and lay in it until morning.
(Supercelts7, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:47, Reply)

And off topic a little...
If anyone lives in Southampton, I advise you to visit Bedford Place on a Sunday morning at about 5 or 6am. The selection of clubs and late night fast food outlets nearby, coupled with the proximity of the sea means that you'll see a few hundred seagulls fighing each other in swarms to peck up Saturday's sick. Nice.
( Zuowan, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:47, Reply)

Too young to remember... obviously...
...but my uncle Philip thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. I was about two or three months old and was being presented to my endless collection of maternal relatives by my eager father for the first time, and introduced myself to my clan by instantly projectile vomiting onto my poor dad's face at the vital moment.
( Zuowan, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:43, Reply)

The first (and only) time I drank Pink Sunny D
Never seen pink sick glow before, heck, id never seen pink sick at all before taking a sip of the stuff on the way to school one summers day. The stain was there for months till the carpark was re-tarmaked.
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:28, Reply)

Not me but the cat a few years back...
My sister, being the smart arse that she is, decided it would be funny to creep upon the cat and grab it. So she quietly crept into her room where it was cralling about ovr her sofa bed unaware that she'd arrived. When she did jump and grab him, not only did he throw up all over her german dictionary and coursework in big kitty chunks, but it shat all over her. Poor thing (the cat, the the twunt of a sister)

Her teacher didnt believe the "cat threw up and shat all over the homework" excuse.
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:25, Reply)

Spaghetti Vom
OK well sit down kiddie's and let me tell you an enchanted story of Swansea, Spaghetti and Stella Atoir.

It was 4pm on a friday afternoon and i sit down to a nice big plate of spaghetti bolognese, a very nice meal and since i normally turn my nose up at this particular dish it was damn enjoyable and a wolf it all down in about 10 mins flat.

Next it's off upstairs and getting ready for a night out on the bricks in swansea with my mates.....i have a few warm up pints of Carling and nick a box of 24 bottles of stella from the house before making my way to cardiff central station. "open return to swansea" and i board my train.

about half way there and 10 mins outside neath there is somthing gone wrong and the trains stops. at this point i whip out my copy of nuts and my toblarone and start munchin away. after about 5 mins a fight breaks out on the train....at this point i break open my box of stella, after 15 mins of searching for a bottle opener i resort to opening the lovleyness with my teeth. its 6pm now and i decide i might aswell make a good start since my mates in swansea are bound to be doing the same.

it reaches 7:30 and i get into swansea station still carrying 16 bottles of stella and i much the worse for wear. taxi to the uni hallls.

i walk in drop my box of stella and start on the drink table, gradually becoming more stoned and drunk i consume 1 whole bottle of margaritta, half a litre bottle of vodka, 3 fink brau's and a whole hoast of other lovley boozey treats. anyway to cut out the bit of the story i cant remember i pass out! in the middle of the floor like so many have before me. after a little kip i will cut to my mates description..........

I start to convulse, shake and i sit up, more shaking and like an explosion in hells kitchen on italian day spaghetti flows from me like bad language from and essex girl. out of my nose a long strand of spaghetti hangs and i pull and keep pulling as a very long peice of spaghetti come from me.

after this the room clears dues to the horrid smell in the room which still is there to this day 7 months later, i lay down and sleep in my own spaghetti vom and upon waking find last nights dinner stuck to my hair!

All in a good night!
(gezza, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 20:04, Reply)

...a few years ago,
I was having a night out and drank too much beer and tequila. (Mixing different drinks together is never a good idea!) When the bar closed for the evening my drinking mate sugested we should stop for a quick kebab. He bought a kebab for me and nice as I am I felt it nessesary for me to eat the food. (Although I didn't feel up to it, beeing very drunk and all...) I manage to finish it, just with some spilling of kebab, running down my jacket and jeans. I also manage to get home afterwards. (Don't remember how, could have been some crawling involved!) I started laying down on my bed when I felt my stomach and my bowels moving. (Bad kebab!) I barely managed to get myself into the bathroom and onto the toilet where by bowels emtied themselves with sickening splashing and running noises. In that exact same moment I felt a vomit pressing up and I also puked bits of kebab and vomit all over the floor and into my bathroom sink! The bathroom and myself stank of vomit and shit for several days afterwards. The lesson I learned that night: *NEVER* eat kebab after drinking heavily!
(it itches so correctly, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 19:59, Reply)

Oh Just Remembered Another One!
Sadly this ones about me though. Again out of Aberdeen, went down to my Gran's in Forfar to see my 11 yr old cousin (i was about 14 at the time) who was visiting from Canada. On the way down me and my dad stopped of at Little Chef *shudders* . I Cleverly decided to have their loverly dunking donuts with chocolate sauce. Nothing on earth is more heavy and sickly. Then it was off on the road again.

Picked up said cousin in Forfar and we all went out for the day in Perth. Only on the drive there the donuts decided they didnt want to be digested, the little rebels. As we enter Perth i decide i cant hold it any longer, my dad quickly gives me an empty bag and i jump out. Only the donuts overpowered me and i only managed to get a little in the bag. The rest narrowly missed the feet of a local family walking passed. I'll never forget the mother's expression of disgust. The 4-5 year old son looked fascinated at this vomitting lad. Hmm. I think my cousin thinks im a little odd now. He's not wrong you know...
(Graz Da Frog, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 19:50, Reply)

hospital induced vomiting
when I was yey high, about three or four years or so old - I had returned from'Tumble Tots' a foam-clad padded climbing playground day-care type centre for young kids. My mum had only left my own my own for a minute and half while she was on the phone or something. I managed to climb onto the kitchen surface (a mean feat in itself) and then stack several tins and boxes and reach up to the high cupboard where medicines were kept. I'd downed a handful of 'sweeties' before mum came back and found me with an empty bottle of prescription painkillers.

One speedy drive to hospital later and a male nurse with dued blonde hair (you remember the darndest things) gave me a a throw-up pill and sent me packing.

A few hours later, happy as larry plying with my mate jamie from next door I spewed all over his mums expensive persian rug and couldn't stop vomiting for ages. Jackie (Jamies mum) was none too pleased as I remember, the best vomit of my life.
(jinglebellsmotherfucker, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 19:21, Reply)