Canterbury Cathedral
I am 10 years old, on a family holiday and in C.C. I have just been bought a new pair of shoes which I am wearing.

During evensong, (beautiful singing which mother is enjoying,) I start to feel very ill and keep saying to the parents that I am going to be sick. No you're not, they reply, but I keep on saying I will. Just get outside in time to christen new shoes, of which I am very proud later.

Another amusing memory is of getting on a busy commuter train one morning going to work to see a mother standing very embarrassed over her pale, teary eyed, 8 year old son as he comprehensively empties his stomach with tut-tutting commuters squeezing by.
(Glen Moranjie, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 8:55, Reply)

"I don't remember eating THAT..."
OK - So: when I were a lad I used to go scuba diving in the local pool, and after I had lugged the stupidly heavy kit back home we'd all head for the nearest pub and have a few with the lads.

Now then: I was about 14 then, and everyone else was about 21, so when I decided to try and keep up with them I very soon got worse for wear: so I left and cycled home (leaning against a wall no less, and falling over when the wall stopped and I didn't....).

When I got in I thought that fried egg sarnies were the order of the day and proceeded to fry up a couple. The first one went down a treat and really settled my stomach, and I should've known to leave it there - but I had cooked it and so I was damn well gonna eat it....

I woke up about 3 in the morning, sat bolt up right and projectile vomited ALL over my bed, bed room, walls, window and door... and on the poor Labrador dog sleeping at the end of the bed.

To this day I thank god I had the prescence of mind to look at the poor mutt - vomit dripping off her face - and say "I don't remember eating that!"

Unfortunately this provoked a fit of hysterical laughter, which provoked more heaves, so I thought "I'll get THIS fecker in the bog" and ran for it - through the pool of vomit of course - down the corridor - gorge rising all the time - and in perfect sync kicked the door open just as the chunder rose, and in a perfect arc from the door got it right on target to the bog....

... where the FECKING seat was down! - and you know how water splashes when you put a spoon under the tap upside down? - that's what happened.

And it wasn't helped when mum came out of her room, eyed the mess with disgust and said "You're cleaning all that up yourself"
(chairman_of_the_peoples_democratic_republic_of_birmingham, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 8:51, Reply)

fifteen years old
Being somewhat of a drinker back then, I had a reputation for being able to put away a lot of alcohol with very little effect. I was round a friends house, when some bright spark fuck had the cracking idea, "lets get him drunk!"

Over the course of the evening I managed to put away eight cans of lager, half a litre of neat gin, half a bottle of whiskey, a scary amount of vodka, and a bottle of Tia Maria.

Apparently I was out of it.

I don't remmeber much, but I did see the aftermath the next morning when I came to. The lounge chair which I had fallen asleep on was saturated in vomit, The bath was absolutely plastered with a brown liquidy mess, the stereo was also covered in vomit, and the carpet by my estimation had a three feet wide pool of brown sludge in the centre. There was also a distinct smell of coffee. It seems that one of my mates while I was lying there, losing my guts seems to have remembered the red dwarf episode where they feed a rather drunk lister a LOT of raw coffee. So while I was just lying there in a state of semi paralysis he retrieved the Nescafe from the kitchen, and proceeded to spoon feed me. Apparently when the next liquidy deluge came from my mouth, it was in the form of a strange black syrup which had managed to become entwined with a rather nice white fur rug they had.
My mate told me at a later point in time, that the repairs to the damage at the house cost just over £1500.

I still can't face gin.
( Muns, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 8:07, Reply)

a bunny named ralph
as a yound child i had horrible asthma, and as a consequence i coughed until i puked a lot. couple that with horrible carsickness and that's a lot of puke for a small girl. i think my most memorable puke, though, would have to have been the time my mom took me to the ballet.

i must have been about five at the time, and my mom decided to take me to the city to see the ballet. towards the end i began to feel poorly, even more so by the time they were taking their bows. as we left i could feel the inevitable: i was going to puke. a lot. i couldn't think of where to puke was the problem. bathroom? no, huge line. i didn't want to let loose in the lobby, someone would have to clean it up. almost barfed while we were crossing the street but my mom, with some maternal super-reflexes, dragged me across the street and toward a planter, where i proceeded to vomit profusely.


and where does the bunny come to play in all this?

let's not forget that i was five at the time, and as most five-year-old girls do, i had a favorite stuffed bunny i took everywhere with me, and the ballet was no exception. so there i am, covered in my own vomit, lying on the back of the car while my mom drives us home. i managed to hold my stomach contents until we reached our driveway, wherein i proceeded once again to puke, this time all over my stuffed rabbit, thus earning it the name ralph for all enternity.

it might also be noted that the rabbit was pink and obviously female, so you can imagine the surprise when asked what my rabbit's name was the reply was always "ralph!"


i am told that i puked several times through the course of the night, most of which i must have dome while i was asleep because i don't remember. apparantly i projectile vomited while lying on my back, and it fell onto my face (hooray for gravity). the next morning my dad had to take my bedding down to the landromat and chunks of dried vomit fell out onto the floor.


looking back, i am quite proud of my achevement, mostly because i haven't yet matched the amount of vomit i produced in that night (haven't worshipped the porcelain god in six years, i beleive)
(sponch!, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 8:06, Reply)

More of a good vomit...
I'm slightly allergic to peanuts, they make me vomit (a lot).

Back in my schooldays, one of my "friends" thought it would be highly amusing to disguise a Marathon (no such things as Snickers back then) by putting it into a Mars Bar wrapper and offering me a bite of the said confectionery Trojan horse.

Not knowing it was a Marathon, I gladly accepted his kind offer, only to be promptly, and expansively sick ... all over the guy who pulled this practical "joke".

Not so much a case of egg on his face as sick on his face, his hair, his shirt, his trousers, his books...
( JugglerJAF It's curtains for you.Lacy gently wafting curtains, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 7:59, Reply)

The funniest vomit I've ever seen....
We had been drinking all day and night (usual back then) and Brian had to leave the premises in a hurry. This means run out the back door of the bar holding his hand over his mouth.
Well, he didn't make and ended up vomitting down the sleave of his leather jacket. What a mess.

The follow up to this was that he tried cleaning his jacket with gasoline to get the smell out. It didn't work, so his jacket had the smell of gas and puke for about the next 6 months - yes, he still wore it.

The second funniest was when Brian's girlfriend was driving us home "The morning after" and I let out the worst smelling fart ever. First Mario (another friend) made her pull over so he could puke. The sight and sound of Mario puking caused Brian to leave the car and start puking as well. Sylvia was pissed off and I could not stop laughing - ok maybe that was the funniest. Especially when the homeowners of the lawn they were filling with puke got out on their balcony and started cheering - true...
( Art101 You all have an unhealthy and morbid fascination, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 7:58, Reply)

VIVE LA FRANCE
while on a year long sabbatical to france (to dry out) i took in the fête des lumières in lyons - the festival of lights dates back to the 12th century when st mary purged the city's plague by getting the gullible folk of the old town to place candles in their windows. by some coincidence the plague left and the lyonnais mark this event annually with window filled candles and booze. not having the remotest interest in the candles i stuck with the booze and at the end of the night was accompanied (carried) by 2 english student girlies to the last nightbus out of town. this is where my face conducted its very own fête des lumières worrying fellow passengers within spraying distance that at any given moment i would be producing my own wine. swaying in circles and feeling ever more dizzy, the warm bus and winding roads did nothing for my second fermentation, so when someone signalled to "stop ze bus", the driver heaved on the brakes, the passengers parted like the dead sea and i was propelled forward through the doors and out into the fresh air.

unfortunately this is where i felt a lot better thanks.

not taking no for an answer, the driver looked through the clear glass bus shelter at me from his seat pointing first at his watch and then down his throat. with all eyes on me i could only find a lampost to conserve my dignity.

staggering back on the bus and with cantonaesque wisdom i signalled for the driver to wait while i offer a few words (in french): "zanks to ze lady oo stopped ze bus, to ze driver for being so patient and to all of you for being so understanding. VIVE LA FRANCE" and with that the whole bus erupted in spontaneous applause, the driver dropped the handbrake and we were off!

you'll notice i had forgotten to thank the girls for getting me on the bus in the first place, so if you're reading this - cheers!
(chives, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 7:57, Reply)

MMMM slideyyyy
completely wankered at my high school break up, gf decided to leave it until that night to tell me shes breaking up with my fine self, luckily i had brought every aussie boys favourite friend a litre bottle of bundaberg over proof rum along with me
fast forward tfour hour completely ignoring thr fact that i threw her, her sister and thier cousin into the swimming pool in incredibly expensive cocktail dresses and we come to a young bedraggled and rather un funky womble standing on the steps of the kiddy slide into the pool,
I'm sure u can guess what happens next..... yes ................. i yakked all down the slide and then the prissy school captain swims underneath the edge of the slide just as my rum a small amount of coke and a fairly large portion of hawaiian pizza hits her in the forehead.........
not a popular boy at the graduation ceremony was i
(Funkwomble XBL and PSN DangerBoy73, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 7:54, Reply)

the chunder from downunder
I had an excellent one. Back in the uni days, I was celebrating the end of exams (having not had a drink for weeks to preserve our tiny minds.)

We'd gone on quite a crawl, ending with him staggering off home and me deciding to visit a friend who had just outed himself and was now working in a gay cocktail lounge. When I turned up, he quietly sat me down in a corner with a glass of water and some chips, near the dj, leaving me there to sober up and do no damage (so he thought...) I'm sipping away, bopping along, crunching my chips (chili crisps, actually) when all of a sudden I feel a wave of nausea - I'm trapped by all these other tables and can't walk to the bathroom (too pissed!) So, I look around, no potplants, and too many people looking in my direction....

Genius! my glass (frosted so it's opaque) is empty enough... here goes... I bowk my spew into the glass, while pretending I'm downing my drink, fill it to the brim, and then disguise the top of it with some chips to hide the truth, stagger out into the night, and grab a taxi. Perfect crime.

The friend working there tells me that the young thai glassie cleaning the tables came across my creation, and had no idea why someone would leave a full drink (covered in chip garnish)... until he realised the glass he was holding was body temperature.

I'm told his screams of disgust tore off the roof.
(poolpartymcguyver, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 6:05, Reply)

bloody hell, where do I start??
I went to Uni at Warwick. The union bars served a drink that I'm told was banned by a good number of perhaps more sensible (or less money-grabbing) institutions. Anyway, 'Purple' - a sticky sweet snakebite (lager and cider) with a double dash of blackcurrant - was all the rage. They even put the ribena bottles in the optics.

So, it's my birthday (19 I think) and for some reason I've ended up standing by the bar, somewhat worse for wear and about 6 purples down, for some reason talking with a load of utter chavs in their shiny white reebok classics. Now the drink may be called purple, but it comes up red. Deep red. (according to the paramedics, stomach-lining red). Cue me feeling a lot better and chavs running off to fuss over their newly decorated reeboks!

Also, same location, later that year and a morning after - had to catch a bus to Leamington. Worked my way from the halls to the bus stop (about 3 mins walk) via every bush, toilet, quiet corner, bin and sink I could find. My god I was feeling rancid. The bus leaves and after the first few corners I'm feeling the stomach knotting and writhing again. The only thing I had was a bag from the Uni shop. One of those ones with holes punched for some unknown fucking reason in the bottom. Made quite a good sieve...

Apologies for ramblingness.
(jimllbreakit might actually have a job now... woo!, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 5:22, Reply)

Not so much a story
but an interesting fact:

I have vomited in three different cities following b3ta events.
( Mystery_Bob, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 5:10, Reply)

I never got drunk
So all my vomits were because I was really sick... so you can figure out that my vomits were always 'cause of rotten food.

The first time I barfed, I was very young, maybe 3 years old. I remember I woke up in the middle of the night with a bad stomach ache. I woke my mom up, and she was taking me to the kitchen to give me a tea or something, and my grandpa was sleeping on the couch.

When I entered the living room, I stopped and told her I was not feeling well... and then I turned left and vomited all the corn I ate that afternoon... ALMOST on my grandpa´s face. He imediatly jumped from the couch, with the natural "what the fuck" look of someone who was woke up by corn vomit on his face.
(Monocromatico Lady Godiva's horse, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 4:55, Reply)

I keep burping
and tasting vomit. For no reason whatsoever.
(kaibosh, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 4:06, Reply)

speaking martian
Not a really bad puke story, but... well, it has puke and stuff in it.

When I was at college, every few months we'd all pile round to the house of the only lass on course, since her parents were away quite a lot. We'd buy a ridiculous amount of beer and spirits, then drink the whole lot in a couple of hours.

It was during one of these that I assumed it'd be a really good idea to consume the 3/4 of a bottle of smirnoff that remained. Bearing in mind by this point I was already well on the way to merrydom, I proceeded to drink in a matter of seconds the remainder of the vodka.

I don't know what happened inbetween, but it culminated in me yakking bucketfuls of vodka-flavoured chunder into the china telephone, and when asked what was wrong I apparently told somebody (whilst yakking) to "fuck off because I'm talking to some martians".

No, I don't know either.
( Biscuitzs -.. . -- ----- ...- -.- --. -.-, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 3:21, Reply)

"Spicy Tomato"
Not beer, related ;

I was at a beer festival near Chichester when one of my (so called) mates , knowing my love of spicy food, offered me a pickled onion. Smelling a rat, I ate an insanely hot onion which had been pickled in chilli, without so much as blinking. With a fair crowd of people watching, he then offered me a pickled 'tomato', which was downed in two bites. The problem was - it wasn't a tomato at all... it was a Scotch Bonnet - the second hottest chilli in the world.

Even after drinking 4-pints of milk (pretty hardcore for a CAMRA festival...) my mouth and throat where still on fire and about an hour later I started to feel very unwell.

I was voming pretty much non-stop for the next 8-hours, just having enough time to drink glasses of water in time to throw them back up.

I swear I did not have a 'normal' shit for 6-months.

Cunts.
( Linbox has a serious dunk habit, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 2:45, Reply)

A few freinds of mine, and I, decided to have a piss up
in one of their houses. They were all between 15 and 17 and I was 19 so I was sent to get the drink. I got back with a couple of bottles of spirits (I cant remember what) and some beer. We spent most of the night knocking back shots until the spirits ran dry. The host younger brother, who I think was only 14 at the time, decided he'd down one of the beers and went off in search of a pint glass. Not finding one, he came back with a pint measuring jug and filled it right up. As he began to drink the good old 'down down down' chant began and so he downed the lot in one and stood looking very pleased with himself. This is where the happy smile froze. He grabs the pint jug and spews a perfect pint right back into it! It didn't overflow, he spewed no more than that pint which looked like it had only just been poured. For the want of a passing tramp......
( The Togaboy The world will end on, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 2:21, Reply)

A loaf of Puke
My brother, not me, was at a party in which he consumed many beers and proceeded to eat a huge bag of potato chips, a huge bag.

Later, he got sick and was laying on the patio. When he chunked, it came out as a solid and looked like a huge loaf of bread followed by laughter as I pissed myself laughing at what looked to be a loaf of bread coming out of my brother's mouth.
Great times.
Once I puked orange because I drank a bottle of triaminic because it tasted good. I was 5.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 2:07, Reply)

out of both ends
It was about 4 months ago, and I had just enjoyed a wonderful days white water rafting, during which our boat capsized and I swallowed a couple of mouthfulls of river water. I felt fine for the rest of the day and the day after, until the following night when I decided to drive home (I was staying at a friends at the time) as I felt a bit iffy. I had a shit when I got in (which was pretty much 100% water) and then went to bed hoping a good nights kip would sort me out good and proper.

However I woke up at about 4:00 am feeling less than peachy, proceeded to chuck up the Subway baguette i'd had for tea the night before all over the (new) carpet and raced to the bog, where I chundered for about 5 minutes. However I had forgotten I had a case of the shits too, and when I had a large spew, a considerable amount of shit came out at the same time, staining my pants and stinking out the entire bathroom. For the next 20 minutes I sat on the bog, bucket in hand, shitting water every time I was being sick.

Great times!
(Monkey Bastard Hands, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 2:02, Reply)

I was fifteen
I decided to have a party for my friends up at my father's cabin on the bay, and only my guy friends showed up. We found an old bottle of tequila and mountain dew and mixed it; we learned that little solid chunks form in the mix, but drank it anyway. I wouldn't let anyone in my house after we all got pissed because I knew we'd trash the place, so I locked us all out. I was awoken the next morning by my neighbor and his girlfriend at 6 AM in towels. They were returning from skinny dipping, and he was standing a little too close from my vantage point of lying on the ground. There were about 25 puke spots distributed evenly about the yard, and 3 of my compatriot's car interiors coated in vomit. It was hard to explain to my father all the little dead spots in the grass, and he wasn't too happy when he learned the truth. The house stayed clean though.
(mikebaja, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 1:53, Reply)

Simple
but effective. About eleven years old, round at a mate's, overdone it a bit on pop and fizz bombs, feeling a bit queasy. Open what I think is probably door to the loo, but am confronted by a laundry basket. By this stage no options are open to me, my mouth is already filling with spew, so I let go. Not much actual vomit, but enough to make sure I never got invited back.
(Wong Fei-Hung - now with added flickr.com (see profile), Fri 20 Aug 2004, 1:24, Reply)

whenever i'm sick, it pours out of my nose
One day when i was particularly ill, i had just finished a nice bowl of tomato soup, when i started to feel horridly nauseous and rushed to be sick down the loo. After a few minutes of retching and spraying the now acidified red fluids from all my facial orifices, i went back about my daily business. Being rather ill, i didn't make much of my nose being blocked for the next three days, but then i sneezed VERY hard into my hand, and what did i find, but a very snotty, tomato soup covered bit of bread that had been lodged in my nasal cavities for half a week.

Yum
( Yeknom. Incontinence and Premature ejaculation? Easy come, easy go., Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:58, Reply)

First alcohol fun...
Went to a party, after about 6 pints of strongbow, a lot of pissing, same again of stella, and a bit of hash....next thing I know, wake up at martes house. We'd plastered his house in vomit. Got screamed outta the house by angry northeners (his family). Best bit was, I was too stoned when I had woken up to care :P
(lifelikeandposeable, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:43, Reply)

hurling at high speeds in the cold.
we'd been guzzling in the countryside that evening. it was fairly chilly out, and finally a few of us needed to leave, for one reason or another. for one of the fellows, the reason was extreme, extreme drunkenness.

so we got into my friend's dad's very nice red sportscar, and we were on our way. mr. sick started to look very bad. the driver said, several times, that if he had to spew, to tell him and he'd pull over as fast as possible.

lo and behold, mr. sick had to spew. but did he tell anyone? no. he just rolled down the window and let fly. over, and over, and over again. there was nothing we could do about it, except cringe away from him to avoid the globs that flew back into the car.

finally, we got to his house and he staggered away. the rest of us got out to look at the damage. the entire right side of the car was coated in a hard shell of now-frozen vomit. the speed of the car made for some particularly violent streaks at the back, near the bumper, which were quite impressive. we got a lot of stares when we got back into town.

since it was impossible to use a hose in the cold air, the car was left in that condition overnight, in the driveway, without explanation. i can only imagine my friend's dad's face the next morning when he stepped outside.
(harmless kitty, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:43, Reply)

A lovely shade of..
One evening out, I ended up drinking my weight in well whiskey and really cheap beer. I woke up the next morning and felt the beginings of a wicked hangover, thinking that I might be able to beat if I drank something health to detox and hydrate my system, I ended up drinking about a half-gallon of some sort of heathly green juice from the snooty vegan market. I went back to bed. 3 hours later, I awoke with pre-vomit drool in my mouth and an aching in my guts. I run to the bathroom and sat on the toilet and leaned my head over the tub and proceed to vomit green veggie puke all over the tub while crapping out the foulest most toxic beer shit ever. The stench made me vomit even more green stuff. This went on 2-3 times for the next 8 hours. It hurts to think about.
(La Chockita, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:32, Reply)

It can't compare to many of these but I'm still young and not yet been drunk.
Year 2. Playing cops and robbers. My 'friend' swung me round by the arms. Then she let go. My nose made a sudden contact with the ground. I've never had a nosebleed and I didn't have a broken nose so was fine in that area. Unfortunatly it made me feel like shit for the rest of the school day, I got to lie on the beanbags in the classroom. On the way home we decided to stop in Tescos for petrol/food. For some strange reason. 'Twas then I decided to throw up. I threw up about 7-12 times in a row. 'bout 1 inch of sick covering the floor of the landrover. Icky. Thankfully Tescos opposite childrens hospital.
Cure: Glass of Ribena.
( Rev. Cleo still alive, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:31, Reply)

not booze related
but my most memorable horf...was 14 years old, got up in the middle of the night to puke and let loose in the toilet like a good young'un...not remembering to take my retainer out of my mouth first. SPLASH it goes into the can, sinking through a sea of vomit and settling on the bottom. So, what to do? Flush it down, losing an expensive piece of orthodontic equipment, possibly damaging the plumbing, and incurring the wrath of the parents? Or...bite the bullet and fish it out?

You guessed it. Go fish. God damn, I have never scrubbed anything as clean in my entire life as I scrubbed that retainer (and my hands) before popping it back into my mouth.

Then just for variety, when all that was done, I got the shits. Thank the fuck I didn't lose anything in the can after THAT.
( Shiksa, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:29, Reply)

Brains...brains...
My worst one and first one (due to alcohol). I was 17ish, in my gap year, away from home for more or less the first time, had a great night out consisting of Newcastle Brown Ale and lots of chips to soak it up (didn't do a very good job). Towards the end of the evening I decided the room was spinning a bit too much and some sobering up would be a good idea, so I had a couple of cans of blackcurrant Tango.

This did little to help, I went back to my room, passed out and awoke at 6am the next morning, and had to immediately run to the sink to confess to Cardinal Chunder. I saw the half-digested chips, lovingly soaked in blackcurrant and Newky Brown sitting there, and I thought I'd managed to vomit my own brains out (I was still really drunk), and so started screaming like a halfwit.
(qwghlm, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 0:22, Reply)