Blessed are the cheesemakers...
Two incidents spring readily to mind....

The first had no alcohol involved with it at all.

I was travelling back down to University (a 200 mile trip) which I'd take a few hours over, stopping off and seeing friends etc. as I set off, I bought petrol and "snacks" for the trip back, namely a bag of minstrels, a bottle of sprite and a ginsters "Buffet bar", or as I now call them "Hell wrapped in a spicy sausagemeat coating." It was quite a warm summer's day and I chucked all the stuff into the glovebox. Then, after 6 hours in total I arrived hungry at my flat with no chance of an open shop and nothing to eat bar the contents of the glove box. So, I tucked into the Buffet bar, washed it down with some sprite and a handful of chocolate.

10 minutes later I felt slightly odd. The warm confines of the glove-box had had an adverse effect on the filling of the Buffet bar, namely turning it into Bacteria central.

I legged it out of my room and (past the locked bathroom) into the 2nd bathroom in the student block. As I turned through the door lunch decided to go on holiday and I fired everything I had eaten a good 12 feet or more across the room, spraying through my fingers in a nice wide arc and coating almost every single surface, the toilet, shower, sink and recessed window in shit-brown coloured puke.

Then I had to clean it all up.

Lovelly.

Prior to that though, the "cheesy-hurl" was when I was a mere 18 and had been drinking very heavilly one night. The vodka was ok, the murphys wasn't too bad, the southern Comfort and coke was probably a bad choice though, not to mention the Cider, bag of chips, pot and 20/20.

The next morning, my head was tender and my stomach was going through hoops. I decided to first of all drink a pint of milk to calm it down. That worked for a while. Then after 20 minutes it stopped working. I really didn't feel that good at that point. So, as I could feel the acidic presence of intense heartburn, I decided to quaff some antacid and calm things down.

I guess the mix was wrong. A hearty desert spoonful of Bicarb in water hit a rather troubled stomach. It felt ok for a moment, then started to get worse. The reaction in my stomach made it blow up like a baloon and I managed to stagger from the sofa onto my feet before the largest ever belch ripped out of my mouth. The only downside to this was that the bicarb had sank under the now semi-digested milk and forced it up my throat like a, well a shot from a semi-digested cheese cannon.

The smell could only be described using the "biblical horrific" scale! I had to first of all stop vomiting, secondly swallow a mass of it again, thirdly sit there belching for about ten minutes and finally scoop up rancid sloppy semi-cheese from the carpet.

Then that night, we went out drinking again....
(Mr Joe Bangles, Mon 23 Aug 2004, 18:50, Reply)