How I almost puked on the Bishop of Ely before knocking myself out in a roomful of vomit
Ok, since you asked...

I sing for my College Choir, and on important College feast-days we have to sing grace before dinner can start. When we've done this we go to a small room above the main hall and get served the same meal that the Fellows/Honoured guests are eating down below, complete with unlimited quantities of port/wine.

I'd had a difficult couple of weeks what with personal issues etc and felt the need to get completely bladdered- which I immediately proceeded to do. By the end of the meal I was in no fit state for anything and had to be dragged down the stairs by a couple of friends- when we were suddenly confronted by the Bishop of Ely, who wanted to thank us for our performance earlier that evening.

After several appallingly embarassing seconds of trying to compose sentences that sounded even remotely sober I felt my stomach begin to lurch, and I somehow regained enough muscle control to barge past him and dash for my room (my friends later told me that the bishop shook his head sadly before making a quick exit). My next memory was waking up lying on the floor in my corridor's bathroom, every concievable surface of which was covered in the remains of a six-course meal that included trout, guinea fowl and about 3 bottles of port (trust me, not a good combination).

Judging from the bruise on my forehead I'd obviously slipped in my own vomit and smacked my skull on the sink. I woke up the next morning in my vomit-soaked dinner suit, realised what had happened and as I went outside to survey the damage I met my next-door neighbour coming leaving his room in a similar state. He'd also come home wankered, and as the bathroom was occupied by me ended up giving our kitchen the same treatment. The combined stench was so bad that when my other neighbour left her room she immediately puked up all over our corridor.

As I retreated back to my room after a morning of cleaning up I discovered that sometime in the night I'd also managed to puke in my sock. Nice.

Bit of an essay there, sorry.
( Shrub Rocketeer is a twisted emotional husk, Thu 19 Aug 2004, 21:54, Reply)