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This is a question My Worst Vomit

We 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!

(, Thu 19 Aug 2004, 21:00)
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my effort
I used to head to the local meatmarket on wednesdays as it was student night, you could get in wearing Chino's and trainers, and there was a whole cornocopia of student fuel available for £1 a drink.

the night ensued, much banter was had, and several pints of lager, cider & blackcurrant and numerous alcopops were consumed. So much so, that upon leaving, the fresh air must have made me a little dizzy, as on the nightclub forecourt, in front of a cue of about 1000 drunk students, i staggered round in a circle three times and hit the floor with a such a resounding THUMP, the collective "ooooh" was like something out of a movie.

Regardless, my buddies and I piled into a nice new gleaming minicab, and instructed the driver that they were to be dropped off about 4 miles before me, although I was semi concious at this point, sat inbetween two lads on the backseat with my head lolling about and eyeballs rolling. "Nah hes OK mate, just leave him in the high street, he'll find his own way back" they told him before departing and waving me off for the final leg.

I dont really recall much, but about halfway back to mine, I woke up vomiting quite violently through my hands an onto my lap. My Cream chinos now largely purple from the cider and black, I remember sobering up remarkably quickly when the beefy cab driver hollered "WHAT THE F*CK?!! RIGHT!!!!" before slamming on the brakes and opening the driver door.

the abrput decrese in speed caused about 6 pints of vile fluid to shunt off my lap, and directly down the backs of both the driver and passenger seat, and mainly over the centre console and handbrake too.

miraculously, I somehow mustered the steel to fling the passenger side door open, and run somewhat woozily round the bend we had stopped on, stumbling over a rose bush and garden fence on the way. I did not look back, and can only imagine that the cab driver was frozen with anger so much so that he didnt chase me and kick the bejesus out of me.

I woke up several hours later in broad daylight with drizzle falling on my face, covered in purple sick, in a rose bush up the other end of my hometown, and had to walk the remainder of the journey along a dual carridgeway in the rain.
(, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 13:11, Reply)

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