eating vomit
I was in a bar that was so packed I couldn't move to get to the toilet, my mate had insisted I drink lager instead of wine so i didn;t get too pissed. I hate lager. I felt the rising vomit but had no-where to go. Conseequently I vomited into my cheeks, holding my lips tightly shut. I looked around but the wasn't a plant pot or anything. Filled with disgust I swallowed the vomit. It was horrible. Moments later I felt the rising again, once more I chundered this second hand vomit into my cheeks, held it until the spasms had ended and swallowed it. Good grief, by now I wass really sweating. The girl sitting opposite asked if I had a cough. I nodded. The spams returned again, this time more powerfully and some escaped onto my scarf. Once again I swallowed. That's it. My friend came back from the bog and i breezily asked him "Have you got a mint".
(barba rei, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 11:03, Reply)

Birthday parties are great for vomit opportunities.
As a centre piece we had prepared a large bowl of Skittles [the sweets]... and by the end of the day they were ALL gone.
Multi-coloured vomit was a change, and tasted very much of fruit.
( CaroWallis, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:53, Reply)

My worst Vomit
Few years ago now, wasn't feeling too good after eating a Marathon (that long ago). Went to the toilet to throw up, but nothing would come out. Felt like I was going to pass my heart through my mouth, until I finally yacked up a lump of peanuts in toffee followed by a chocolate milkshake fountain.....eaten only Mars bars since then.
(eyebrows, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:52, Reply)

walking back from a house in Radford
(one of the dodgier parts of nottingham), at 1am, I left a trail of vomit all the way down Lenton Boulevard culminating in a messy splodge on my bathroom floor.

Best Valentine's Day ever.
( manwithunderpantsonhead older than a Time Lord, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:51, Reply)

Vomtastic
Not me but my other half, for argument's sake we'll call him Nathan because that is his name, must hold the world record for bizarre vomit spectaculars.

The first one of which must have happened when he was about 20. Whilst standing on a train platform nursing his hangover from the night before he decided the best way to go was to get a carton of Ribena from the kiosk, rip open the top and dissolve 2 alka seltzers in it. He was feeling fantastic after drinking it for approximately 5 seconds before the Ribena/Alka Seltzer decided to make a reappearence. Not such a bad thing if it had come out as a regular pavement pizza but it proceeded to ooze out of his nose/mouth in a long slow procession resembling an enormous foam purple snake. Funny really was not the word - especially those around him waiting for the 10.20 to Grantham.

On the subject of pavement pizzas.... the second feat in his olympic winning barforama resulted in a life ban from Pizza Hut without even having to go in the front door. After a looong afternoon in the pub he decided it was a good time to go home and this involved walking past the glass fronted aforementioned restaurant. Glaring in the through the window at all the families tucking into their food was too much for his delicate stomach but rather than just throw up all over the floor he applied his mouth to the window, chucked up and blew at the same time. Result - a beautiful beer butterfly spreading the entire span of the window, lots of disgusted families and the Manager chasing him down the road.

Finally, nursing another morning after stomach he thought that the most stomach settling thing to have would be milk. This actually managed to stay down for at least 15 mins before coming back up in the garden in the form of the exact replica of a large helping of scrambled egg. I'm sure it didn't taste the same but it didn't stop next door's dog.......
(Loving Vixen, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:46, Reply)

Champagne x2
Just remembered another. Involves alcohol, but no drunkedness...

Probably the worst food poisoning I've ever had. The culprit, a dodgy pork chop from Prague. The effects of which didn't take effect until I was in Berlin (on a bit of a tour round eastern Yurp, looking at aeroplanes if you must know - stop pointing and laughing). Big airshow at Schönefeld airport and we had a pleasure flight on a lovely old Russian plane (IL-18 for those that care).

As part of the classy experience, a glass of champagne was offered. Me thinking I has already spent much of the morning sat on bog, head in sink (good bathroom design allows this to happen, god help you if they're too far apart) wondered whether to pass it up or not. Since I was feeling better, I thought why not, and very much enjoyed said bubbly stuff. I also quite enjoyed it again about 10 minutes later when it returned from the land of stomach. Mainly because my stomach was completely empty after the earlier retching acrobatics, and it tasted pretty much the same on the return journey....

Yum.
( Scoff Cruddle you would, wouldn't you?, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:42, Reply)

New Years party
the party was hosted by a brother and sister duo who were then combined friends of me and my then girlfriend

id decided to drink wine that night so adequately polished off the bnottle id brought feeling fine. no problems there

then mulled wine was offered from a pan and the only drinking recepticles were small little egg cup type things. obvious connection to me at the time was shots of mulled wine

so i challenge a friend to a shot-drinking competition and the comp gets under way. several shots pass and i start to notice he isnt get drunk so, determined to get him slightly tipsy i demand we drink more, and more, and more (it wasnt til a few days later that it was revealed by everyone around that he wasnt actually drinking his but pretending to, to the joy of everyone around who was in the know, and to my expense)

anyways sevel pans worth it seems are consumed so i need to be sick so off i head to the loos, girlfriend in tow.

much puking is done and girlfriend decides i need a glass of water so fetches one. in my attempts to muster the control of my limbs wioth which to grab the glass i knock it over, thus breaking it on the tiled floor. i then somehow managed to put girlfriends wrists in it which get slashed to shreds and bleed profusely.

then finally with one last allmighty heave i eject the remains of my stomach down the loo and shit myself before passing out.

last 2 things i remeber are vaguely hearing the band play some hapopy new year song for 12:00 and being taken home by my father who escorted me through the crowd of friends, shitty boxers on show.
(skagg, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:38, Reply)

chundering
When I was 17 I moved out of home and ended up living in a caravan in the middle of an an apricot orchard with 3 heroin addicts. Due to lack of money and inclination, our main source of food was a 10 litre pot of something that we called "The Stew". "The Stew" started out as just that, a dish combining meat and vegetables in a thick gravy but when it reached a level of about 2 litres, it was just topped up with water and other stuff. The stuff consisted of:
extremely cheap canned stuff
vegetables borrowed from the neighbouring farms
meat sourced from various sources, including lambs that died during cold nights and fresh roadkill (rabbits, kangaroos, birds and possums.
So the original stew might. at times be, 3 or 4 weeks old and just left on top of the stove even during the summer (non airconditioned aluminium caravan in a paddock in northern South Australia where day time temperatures can reach 45 degrees C).
As the human body is quite a resiliant organism, it is able to become accustommed to this diet with very few side effects other than continual liquid bowels. One night I had been out with my mates for a night of pissing on and smoking the herb. Due to financial constraints our drink of choice was a cheeky little number from our local winery, a very young vintage coffee marsala. Also, due to becoming very hungry due to our chemical intake we thought ourselves extremely fortunate to find the local roadhouse was selling family size Sarah Lee apricot cheesecakes for only $1.25 (only 3 months past the use by date).
After consuming 2 each plus a dubious hot dog it was time to retire. We were very quiet when entering the caravan so as not to wake the sleeping junkies out of respect of the fact that all 3 of them were armed with variuos firearms. Having been asleep for about 3 hours, I woke with the feeling that perhaps I may have eaten something that did not agree with me. I ran to the toilet but unfortunately one of my mates was sitting there with extremely loose bowels so I headed for the sink and let loose a vast amount of vomit. As if time slowed down, I remembered a very pissed off junkie the previous week waving a .22 calibre rifle around because someone had left hair in the sink plughole. Acting on instinct, I placed my hands in the stream of vomit between the plughole and my mouth to the catch the larger bits that may block the drain. Just as I was finishing, my other mate ran in to spew but as both recptacles were taken, he turned around, threw open the front door and did a projectile vomit that Ragan would have been proud of.
It was not until the following afternoon, when we woke up that we realised while vomiting out of the front door, my mate had not opened the flyscreen door as well as the front door. So as well as a normal front door, there was another door constucted of a thick layer of dried vomit.
(peewee13, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:37, Reply)

chunderific
I worked in a nightclub in Manchester for a while round about Christmas. The boss threw a big party at his house and, being a nightclub owner, there was LOADS and LOADS of free booze. So I got trashed to the level where I cant remember anything.

Especially not eating a pot noodle.

But it appears that I did, as when I subsequently chundered all over my bosses carpet, it looked like I'd spewed worms. Which made me hurl even more.

Nice.
(emma_fisi, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:36, Reply)

Not me, but my mate Phil
We were at a house party in Wimbledon. Me and Phil thought that all the little people who had no money and would thus drink all the alcohol before we even got there. So we proceded to buy a crate of stella (wife beater) each. My god I was pissed. We then smoked copious amounts. I then remember lying on a bed in a hot boxed room and gaining the name casper for being pale. Phil was on the bed curled up in the corner. I then hear a watery noise from Phil and he vomited all over someone elses jacket. We then instantly sobered up as a fight broke out between me and phil against very roudy puke covered rugby player. We were in hestrical laughter all the way home. That last spliff made us happy.
(Dry Crackers, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:36, Reply)

once when i was younger
I was at a mates house and drank a few tinnys of special brew (probably 6 or more). I woke up on his lounge sofa with a mouthful of vomit. I placed my hand over my mouth and proceeded to run to the bathroom upstairs. I got as far as the hallway before another mouthful decided to pay a visit. hand over mouth and 2 mouthfuls fighting for a limited volume equate with a fantastic spray, which ended up everywhere, wall, carpets, and all over my friends long haired alsatian..

I ran upstairs, finished ridding myself of the evil beer and came downstairs to find my friend and his brother standing there looking at a poor miserable shaking dog, its long hair matted with peas and carrots, stinking of puke.

they said " We think you had better leave" - so I did, they disowned me and we never spoke again..
( pregnantfridge, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:30, Reply)

I had been out drinking
ass most people seem to have and when I got home decided to round off the night with a quick smoke before bed. This triggered the urge to vomit so I raced upstairs, managing to restrain the flwo until i got to the toilet. My vomit flew with such velocity and intensity that I couldn't really concentrate on anything else, so it was only when I'd finished that I realised the toilet seat was completely down, and that I covered the walls of my small toilet with puke up to head height. Being the concientious young fellow I am,I headed straight to bed.
Later that night, me mam walked into the toilt on her way to bed, ith bare feet. Apparently she wasn't happy, but she was incredibly kind and let me sleep until the next day before making me scrub the room down.
(Dethro Jix I'm better than you and I probably hate you. Cunt., Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:30, Reply)

Fire is the cleanser...
After a night of very heavy drinking at a meeting of internet geeks (I us the term with love), a couple of friends wandered over to the local Aldi carpark to play with fire (as you do).
They were experienced fire breathers and fire twirlers. I was... perhaps not so experienced. After watching an impressive display of fire breathing I demanded to be taught how to do it...

A couple of false starts, but then I was producing some decent flames. At the same time I was swallowing a quantity of kerosene / paraffin oil. Combined with the beers and whiskies I'd been enjoying, I think we can see where this is going.

Sudden nausea struck, and I vomited a nasty goo that lit as it passed the torch. I had invented a new act: Fire Vomiting! Yay!

To this day I remain proud and unabashed. I believe there may even be photographs somewhere.
(fogbat, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:29, Reply)

My worst vomit is yet to come.
I just downed 2 bottles of Absolut so I could contribute a story. If I don't post within 3 hours send a doctor.
(borkey makes meatballs just like mum, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:28, Reply)

rave honk
I was spewed on.

The scene: Early 90's, Plymouth, Wasp Factory at the Warehouse Union St. Upstairs bar (very very hot)

Now anyone who frequents dance clubs will tell you they can get mighty hot, but not being a tattooed ex hooligan I was never one for the bare torso rave antics, except for this time.

Sat on the floor of the top tier of the Warehouse looking after my mate Mark (coming up on a very strong dove/cally/red-n-black) I sit and comfort him through his eye-rolling onset. Mark (mid gurn) looks at me in a moment of lucid realisation and projectile vomits all over me. I mean he really let go full Mr Creosote repeated hurgghgh hurghgghh hose after hose of enriched vomit. I was fucking drenched.

I swear if possible, the upstairs of the Warehouse went quiet, deathly fucking hush as people waited for a fight to errupt. Not a bit of it Mark reaches down brushes some carrot from my shoulder Says 'Sorry man, I love you' and gives me a hug. After that I think we watched 'Dream Frequency' perform (after a quick spruce up in the toilets)

Ah those were the days........
(bblac didnt get the new job booo rotten bastards, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:24, Reply)

hmm
When I was tripping i ate a really hot lentil curry that had been in a mates fridge for a while. tasted great. but my stomach did not like it. throwing up a really hot curry on a trip is not a pleasant experience..
( pregnantfridge, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:23, Reply)

ohhh and another one
One of my good friends whos very small and a real lightweight tried to drink a whole bottle of vodka. He got halfway though it before the host of the party threw him out for breaking a glass vase. I decided to walk him home cos' he was to far gone to get there by him self, i had help from another one of is mates. any way we are walking down this street with parked cars either side of him and he tells us he needs to take a piss. Instead of trying to find a bush or tree we just prop him up against a bmw where he pisses all over the bonnet, he then zips up and pukes on the bonnet making a nice mixture of piss and sick on someones car.

Then as we are walking up the road we pass a couple walking the opposite direction they ask us if we need any help, we decline saying his house is just a bit further down anyway i look back at the couple and as it turns out the BMW was theirs luckerly they didn't realise that it was my mat doing the puking.lol
(the monk, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:20, Reply)

To the Side
Many years ago, just after one Christmas, a mate of mine and I had tickets to see a band we were both jolly keen on by the name of Gallon Drunk.

As it was Crimple and we were fed up with sitting on our respective family sofa's drinking the swill our mums had bought for us, we thought we would honour this band by going out before the gig and getting Gallon Drunk.

So we rolled around the pubs and flesh pots of Soho drinking premium lager and even made the mistake of going into on of those pretend porn cinemas they have there.

(You don't get to see genitals and there are lots of scary men in raincoats that smell of guttering).

I digress, we finally got to the venue, the Garage, pissed as fools and spacked out on amal-nitrate and bloody Gallon Drunk, who liked to drink cough-syrup for breakfast, had cancelled.

Back down to Soho we went and bumped into some American girls on their way to the Wag Club so we followed them and very quickly scared them off with out heavy drinking, amal sniffing and strange cackling. It's all a bit of a throbby blur at this point, to be honest.

While in the club, I suffer from a terrible stomach cramp. I lumber about the top floor of the Wag Club trying to find a bog. Could I? So I stagger downstairs, remembering a lav by the entrance so I head toward it, hand over mouth, in the most direct way possible, through the dance floor.

Sadly, My guts are stronger than my grip and up comes a days worth of drink, chips and pitta but my hand blocks a full-frontal gush. Unfortunately, the torrent can not be totally averted and some puke jets out of the side of my mouth, squeezed into a fine jet by my hand and hits some unfortunate girl on the dance floor.

I carry on, hearing behind me a “’ear, that bloke just….” And reach the loo. I relax, release the vom and fell loads better and ready for more.

There was a bouncer waiting for me outside the loo. I have to hang on to the wall by my finger-tips shouting “Let me get my mate, alright, I’ll go but let me get my mate.” Until two of them drag me out.

They find mate and take him out too and we shuffle off home, a little sheepish.
(skitster, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:19, Reply)

Amnesiac vomming
Between degree and MSc had a summer job in Navan working in a mine (as you do). This being the arse end of Meath, not much to do but drink. The evening started at a party round some of the Finns' house, drinking "Finnish coffee", which tasted very nice (but later found out was neat Vodka with liqorice sweets disolved in it - a big mistake). Later on, we decided to visit the top local nightspot (name escapes me but was Henry's or something like that. Your standard grotty Irish country dishco). And I distinctly remember have a crafty chunder in the bogs and thinking 'thank goodness I managed to to it in a controlled and private fashion'.

Alas, what I didn't recall was the fact that just as we were leaving the party, I rushed out into the garden and hurled quite spectacularly across the lawn. Took me a week to get the story out of them all in the canteen, the bastards. But it does explain (a) why the very pretty girl I had been chatting up, with some success, lost interest and (b) why everyone was wondering was I OK quite so much in the car to the club.

Ho hum. The moral (if there is one) beware of Finnish men proffering strange drinks....
( Scoff Cruddle you would, wouldn't you?, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 10:01, Reply)

Mine
I was really hungry, so I had a packet of choc-mint biscuits. Then half a block of chocolate. And a bit of wine.
Shortly after (in the shower, must be clean) I chundered.
'Twas black. Tasted really, really good coming back. I highly recommend it.
( Le Brad, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:57, Reply)

ohhhh i just remembered another one
Last year i had to deal with a really enoyying french teacher who was a total bitch. At the end of the year the entire french class decided we would do something really nasty to her beloved carpet. It was allready halfway through the lesson and we were struggerling to think of something to do and then i thought of the perfect thing, we would all make ourselfs puke on her carpet and then say we can't stand seeing people be sick.
The Message was passed round and the moment the teacher turned to face the bourd i coughed( that being the signal to start) and about 15 of my class mates puked.
There was puke everywhere on chairs, desks and most importantly her fucking carpet! HAH
(the monk, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:53, Reply)

Howking
Pissed/Stoned - helpless in bed - head spinning - vomit rising - need recepticle - wicker basket - left on floor - acts as seive - lovely morning.
(Chillumm, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:47, Reply)

At university
attempting to build up my alcoholic tolerance (whatever, I was drinking quite a lot at this point in time).
Spent day getting drunk (maybe just afternoon, I forget) then made myself dinner (pasta of somesorts). Flatmates decide that I should down a can of super-strength cider, so depart to local shop to acquire cider whilst I eat.
They return, and a pint glass is filled with nasty, strong, tooth-destroying cider (Strongbow Super or something, I hadn't drunk cider since I grew out of Diamond White - classy!).
To my credit, I manage to drain the glass, possibly in one go. This done, I promptly refill the glass - to the brim - with, almost un-chewed, pasta. Suddenly feeling much lighter, I, for some reason, refuse to empty the glass back down my throat.
A good time is had by all.*

*Perhaps not. I spent the end of the evening in the disabled toilets of the IT lab, vomiting repeatedly into the washbasin, thereby clogging the sink.

I also spent another evening, sobbing and vomiting repeatedly into another flatmates favourite cereal bowl. It was empted frequently and washed throughly afterwards, but she still refused to eat out of it.

Should probably also mention the time when I fell asleep in a chair and slowly dribbled stomach juices onto a small patch of the carpet. When I awoke, all the colour had been bleached from this bit of the carpet (from blue, to a pale greenish-yellow colour). Spiced Rum has since been added to my list of things not to drink.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:43, Reply)

My most momentous chunderage occurred back in 1995 when
I was at the Le Mans 24hr motorbike endurance race. My friend and I had been to the local carrefour and bought two five litre barrels of incredibly cheap, but rather pallatable
French red wine. We had drunk the first one the night before and only got very pissed ie no side effects except for the very fainest of hangovers the following morning. So we decided to do the same the next evening with the remaining barrel. Mid-drinkage, a young and obviously cunted, french bloke enquired of us if anyone knew how to make rollups and he immediately produced a block of cannabis resin the shape and size of a box of swan vestas. This immediately grabbed our attention and the kingsize rizlas were applied accordingly, thereafter we all entered a state of THC induced paranoia and stupidity. Some time later in the evening, too scared to attempt to get in my tent through falling over and making myself look foolish, I did in fact fall over, make myself look foolish and then proceeded to honk the most amazing purple spew. The colour was most vivid and was commented on by all. Needless to say I have repeated this many times since then and at nearly 40 years of age you'd think I would have grown out of this... Nope.
(urgle-splurgle molesting small goats since, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:36, Reply)

Class
Last week. 12 noon. Trafalgar Square. The bird fills a carrier bag full of green bile right in the middle of all the tourists. I was so proud.
(GTed, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:28, Reply)

Port Binge
A mate... we'll call him Ogwen, Once went on a bender with a bottle of port. Though not entirely disasterous, the result was lasting and artistic.

In bed, suffering badly, and far from sober, Ogwen feels the up-surge. Being a lad of habit, the instinct was not to look for a recepticle... it was to aim for the bathroom.

Question.... do you get out of bed on the side nearest to your bedroom door, or do you get out of the side FURTHEST away from the door, and run around the bed. Our hero chose the latter.

Question. Hold your shirt over your mouth and managed to collect the gack.... or try and stem the flow with your fingers? Again, the latter was employed.

From the room below we all witnesed a mad thumping noise as Ogwen attempted the round the bed journey... this was accompanied by the splattering noise: his vom spraying out through his fingers and squirting the port-coloured barf EVERYWHERE. The cheap white Ikea furniture bore the marks till we left the house. That shit STAINED. there was also splatter marks on the ceiling. 10/10 for effort.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:23, Reply)

Starts off relatively normal...
Wednesday December 19th 2003. Work Christmas party. Started off really nice, a fantastic (if expensive) meal in The Living Room on Deansgate in Manchester.

Going really well, chatting to people at work, having a laugh, getting a little bit merry. So we trundled to The Moon Under Water pub a couple of doors down. I alternated between vodka and coke, and Southern Comfort and lemonade. Unfortunately, against the advice of my colleagues, I paid several too many trips to the bar. At approximately 8PM (I think) my colleagues noticed I'd been missing for about half an hour. So a couple of them trundle up to the toilets to see if I was there. Sure enough, there I was, face in a toilet, chundering all over the place, the floor, the toilet seat, absofuckinglutely every which way.

So I was dragged downstairs, and thrown in a taxi. I puked in the taxi and had to pay the poor bastard taxi driver a cleaning surcharge (which is fair enough, I gave him a fucking big tip too). Sounds like a kind-of-average get pissed story.

What makes the story most interesting is the fact that I stumbled into the kitchen, and managed to puke upon the door frame. My poor wife and son came home to find a vomit stained carpet and door frame, and I had actually managed to STRIP THE PAINT OFF THE DOOR FRAME with my evidently radioactive stomach soup.

Of course I was incredibly ashamed, and I haven't touched a single drop of alcohol since. Not even at Christmas, any celebration or even in any food. 8 months teetotal and I have never ever felt even a remote desire to consume anything with alcohol in it.

Lovely.

Mike "turpentine" Thorpe

Edit: I was also out shopping with my wife and she was sick right in front of a shoe shop, no warning, just spattered everywhere. She was geniunely ill though.

Oh, and before I met my wife, I was violently ill at the Student night at The Ritz in Manchester. The girl who helped me into the toilet, who I'd only just met that night, later on ended up being my girlfriend. Obviouls y a vomit fetish. :-/
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:21, Reply)

Sick up your sleeve
A couple of years back i went on skiing holiday with a couple of mates and on the last day we all got a bit wankered. We were into the second bar of the night and as we got up to leave, one of my friends realised he had to puke so instead of bathing all over the bar floor he decided to quickly undo his ski jacket, put it over his head and then be sick into the sleeve of the coat and then procceed to zip up the coat and walk calmly out of the bar as if nothin had happened.
unfortunatly he had borrowed the coat of my brother so had to buy him a replacement lol.
(the monk, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:20, Reply)

A single bean
Not booze related, but still a great puke:

School Assembly, early morning. I must have been about 5 or 6, and had been fortified for the day ahead by my loving mother who had fed me beans on toast for breakfast. Delicious!

Unfortunately, something went wrong with my body. I started to feel more and more dizzy and hot, and felt the puke coming... and desperately tried to hold it in. I almost succeeded!

I choked back 99.5% of the first big heave, but was unable to prevent a solitary bean from exiting my mouth and landing on the floor in front of the boy sat cross-legged to my right.

"What's that?" he asked

"I dunno," I nonchalantly replied.

5 seconds later, the rest of the beans followed their intrepid pioneer brother in a veritable tomato-based fountain of vomit.

The teachers did their best to comfort me, but I was mortified. My wife thinks this story is hilarious.
( AntonSporz, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:02, Reply)

I used to get carsick
And when I was a child we always took week-long trips to La Jolla, Calif. in the summertime (we still do, just not as often). The thing is, we always DRIVE, since we live in Arizona - only one state away, I suppose. ...Anyhow, I would always get nausea on the SECOND night of our stay. Not the evening after our arrival, mind you - my carsickness/altitude sickness/whatever the fuck it was would always DELAY itself for 24 hours, and then I would find myself fearing for myself the next night.

Anyhow I remember one occasion (I was about eight or nine at the time) where it got horrendously bad. I was sharing a foldout bed (or whatever you call those beds that fold up inside the sofa) with my little brother... I'm snoring away, and all of a sudden I find myself sitting _bolt_ upright in bed, absolutely KNOWING I'm about to toss them. I step on my brother climbing over him to get to the bathroom door... and with every step to the door, the urge to puke gets stronger. I fling the door open, and barely have time to switch on the lights before the fountains come on. I have just enough time to register that the toilet isn't open and I'm chundering all over the fucking LID - before I switch immediately to the sink.

My brother, of course, was promptly awakened when I stepped on his pancreas in my mad dash for the loo, but apparently the loud gagging noises woke up every other member of my family. And if that didn't do it, the stench did... we had to clean up the puke ourselves instead of letting Housekeeping do it; no way were all nine of us, the whole extended family, going to sleep under a cloud of my vomit stink. Of course, since I'd puked through my nose as well as my mouth, I still had to worry about it. I believe I went through two boxes of Kleenex getting the chunks out of my sinuses.
(Dr.Whogivesaratsarse, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 9:00, Reply)