My Worst VomitWe all love a drink. Some of us love them so much they want to see them again on the way out of their mouths. I once got caught by surprise by the boozy sickness while chatting to some friends in my kitchen. Quick as a flash I grabbed a nearby pan and chundered away merrily in it. Realising it was probably time for bed I staggered off to my room. Unfortunately, my co-ordination failed just as I reached the landing and I somersaulted down the entire flight of stairs with my saucepan full of vomit. Beat that!
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chthonic, Thu 19 Aug 2004, 21:00)
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Leeds.I'm not saying I only threw up once at this years Glastonbury, but only once where I really had no control of the matter. I entirely blame a grinning man who assured me it would be fun.
It was very late on the Sunday night, the culmination of 5 days of rather extravagant, if somewhat ill advised, alco-narco-mungbean consumption
The plan for the day had included “LEEDS”, a rather heady cocktail of 2 e’s and some lsd. To be fair I think I may have over done it a bit but then again, who hadn’t by this point.
With an air of familiarity my stomach was telling me it was time to take the obligatory “pill shit”. You know the one, the europhic rush of MDMA coursing trough your bowels and no viable option but to evacuate immediately. So off I trotted to find a habitable cubicle. No mean feat considering the time and location of my predicament.
By the time I reached the toilets I wasn’t in the position to wait and the first one to open would have to suffice. I didn’t think it was that bad in there and made myself comfortable to drop the kids off. Then I breathed.
The putrescent stench of crusties turds, beer boys piss and hippies hit the back of my throat. Immediately my gag reflex took over, forcing my eyes to water, my tongue to swell and my stomach into some unearthly contraction, expelling a loose stool of biblical proportions from my rear. This was too much for my poor body to take and a vile narco-plasm forced itself, arching, from my mouth splattering the cubical door. The magnitude of this spasm threw my feeble body forward, arms outstretched into the outward swinging door – which, in my confused state, I had neglected to lock– much to the disgust / amusement of the waiting crowd who got to witness a brief glimpse of me wearing a trilby while dribbling noxious fluids from both ends.
I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to those in the queue and particularly the next occupant of the cubicle who had the misfortune to bear witness to this sorry sorry incident
(, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 16:19, Reply)
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