Beware the chicken kebab
A late night chicken kebab once returned from the grave with extreme prejudice.
Went to work next day, felt a bit odd, but nothing specific. Around 11am I got bullied into attending a cheese and wine reception, where my plan was to circuit the room with my one glass of wine, then make a swift exit and go home.

Unfortunately, I got snared by the exciting prospect of drinking free wine at the company's expense, and, ooh, five glasses later, was having a whale of a time larking about with the caterers (everyone else had left)...

The next thing I know, I'm in the lavs, throwing up everything I've ever eaten, and some more. Eventually I parked my right cheek on the bog seat, so I could chuck without even raising my head.

You know how when you're drunk, and throw up, and instantly feel better? Doesn't work with food poisoning.

About 2pm, I passed out. Three hours later, I am rudely awoken by the cleaners banging on the cubicle door because it's gone five and they want in. Not only have I managed to fill the bog TO THE BRIM with yellow puke, but have also cacked myself whilst unconscious.

With all the dignity I could muster, I staggered to my feet, opened the door, walked past the the cleaner with a cheery "Good evening". And immediately left the building.

I didn't even manage to flush. Although I did put an extra pound in the cleaners christmas fund, so I'm not all bad.

Final note to the unwary - the best thing to drink after profuse kebab-related vomiting is NOT pineapple juice.
(sags tupac-a-hats, Sun 22 Aug 2004, 17:59, Reply)