"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)