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This is a question Vomit Pt2

It's been nearly six years since we last asked about your worst vomit, so:

Tell us tales of what went in, what came out and where it all went after that.

(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:02)
Pages: Latest, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

1st night I officially went out on the piss (aged 16); puked me ring up into my toilet 6 hours later, immediately after I was slumped in the toilet retching for Wales I was sat naked on there shitting my brains out. Much to the delight of me dad who was grinning like fuck while checking to see if I was alright.

1st night I discovered Red Bull; I was with me ex-fiancee at the time and we decided to have a spontaneous night out. She lived in a bedsit above a popular pub at the time, which was one of 6 bedsit rooms which all shared a bathroom/toilet and kitchen. When we came downstairs to the main pub bar they were all drinking redbull and quite buzzed from it, so it looked quite tempting. We hit the clubs and I proceeded to drink 8 double vodka redbulls that night, was fine leaving the nightclub with the missus, can't remember getting back to the pub at all though. We hop into her room, and as you do, we started fucking. About halfway through though me throat started filling up with puke and I had to run. I hop off her and leggit down to the toilet stark bollock naked with an alcohol stained erection waving about like a fucking geiger counter needle while holding in a load of puke in me gob with both hands. Somehow, through sheer determination, I managed to make it to the toilet and wretched like an over-caffeined motherfucker for about 10 minutes. During this time, one of the other residents who was living in one of the other rooms could hear everything through the bathroom wall and was shouting "GO ON JECCY, GET IT OUT MY SON!!!!" After I was done, I smelt like a bag of revels. I literally slumped onto the bathroom floor for about 5 minutes, drained, naked and totally unable to move.
Eventually I was able to pick myself up, clean myself up and funnily enough I wasn't in the mood to finish her off.

Most probs will get more soon; I've puked a fair bit tbh.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 18:16, Reply)
Vomit and the deathly silence !!!!
Many moons ago I went out on the slash with friends and ended up in the dog house for what seemed like weeks.

Apparently I came home slightly pissed after drinking the best part of a bottle of vodka in an evening.

When i eventually got up in the morning nobody in my family was speaking to me,apparently I had got up in the middle of the night and chundered in the WC and gone back to bed,(Little did I know that I had missed the toilet and chundered all over the toilet seat).

A little later mummy dearest decided to get up and have a wee without putting the bathroom light on....... Yep she sat on my by now cooling vomit laden toilet seat !!!

Too say the atmosphere was frosty for the next few weeks would be an understatement, Even the dog appeared to be Pissed off with me.

The Old dear has never missed an oppertunity to embarass me ever since, When I took my future wife home it was nearly the first thing she was told about me, On our wedding day it was "bought up" as it were.

My ma-in-law was told, everybody in my family knows the story backwards.

I also once managed to throw up while riding my Motorbike home and wearing a full face Helmet that was interesting to say the least !!!!!
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 18:15, Reply)
Cured of being a good Samaritan
It had been a good night, and it looked like it was getting even better. Drink had been flowing very freely indeed, and since the city where I live is not exactly a Mecca for clubbing, it was pretty light hearted and fun. I was pleasantly surprised by a very cute girl buying me a drink (I'm bisexual) and was having a pretty good time with her. She was drinking very very heavily. As in triple shots of vodka heavily, one after the other, and since I had no plans to take her home I was a bit worried about her. She couldn't spot her friends, and though she could remember her college (just about) she couldn't remember her room number, and she'd lost her phone.

Gritting my teeth, I decided the best thing was to take her back to mine, let her sleep it off in my bed and kick her out in the morning with a lecture on knowing alcohol limits and not going home with strangers. She thought it was for sex obviously, but I managed to get her back, on her side and looking quite ill. She tried to tug me down for a kiss, but I really wasn't in the mood. As I tugged away she vomited on me.

Really, truely spectacular vomit. Like a fountain of undigested food and alcohol spewn out onto my top. Now I don't mind blood, and most bodily fluids don't freak me out at all, but there is something about vomit that seriously disgusts me. I had to take off my top in case I vomited myself. Since I was apparantly very drunk I thought it would be the right idea to hunt for some sponges etc to clean it up in this state.

Eventually with the help of a friend I got the girl in the shower and cleaned up, then put her back to bed. In the morning I escorted her out- she looked the most embarassed person ever.

However the worst was not over. Apart from the vomit stains on the floor, on my top and on my duvet, I had to deal with the person I share my sitting room with (we have bedrooms next to each other,) staring at me cautiously. Turns out she thought I'd brought a girl home for sex, and then had sex in the shower with her. But she claimed the weirdest thing was dozily seeing me topless hunting for cleaning implements, since she assumed that I wanted them for the next round.

It definitely cured me of doing the right thing!

Apologies for length etc.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 18:03, 2 replies)
The gall of it....
Nothing funny about what I had to go through the last 3 years i,m afraid.

I went through 3 years of not knowing wether the next meal would stay down,cos after suffering with agonising stomach pains,the only way it would stop would be to throw everything up,the pain was as close to child birth as i want to be.

After 4 days last October of not bieng able to eat or drink I went to casualty,( i was suffering from pancreatitis)where a nice male nurse stuffed a catheter up my cock ...MEGA FUCKIN UNCOMFORTABLE!!! and a drip in my arm.Turns out i was bieng poisoned by my gall bladder?
Had the bastard taken out last year,(keyhole surgery.amazing)no problems since, touch wood.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 18:03, 6 replies)
Page 1 go me
Story to follow......

Went to Holland for a friends stag do. Arrived a bit late, proceeded to drink, others joined later still. We keep drinking. Come 7am, I am told, the remaining few of us stagger bag to our youth hostel.

2 hours later time to go find food and go to the outdoor water park for some white water rafting. I made it around twice before having to get off as I felt that sick. Nigel didn't get off, just puked over the side. I however went onside to the toilet and throw up with such force my leg actually lifted off the floor and I noticed blood on my vomit.

Sat in the shower for a while, then went for some inside wave riding.

Fuck I felt rough.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:59, Reply)
Ben the dog
About 15 years ago my family was asked to look after a neighbour's dog, Ben, while our neighbours were on holiday. My parents never let me have a dog when I was younger, they told me it was because dogs were expensive but I'm certain it's because they couldn't be arsed to look after it. So looking after a lurcher/collie cross for a week seemed like a brilliant thing. Oh how wrong I was.

When Ben arrived the morning they were due to leave for "cultured-and-sophisticated" Costa del Sol, his owners informed us that Ben had 'a bit of a cold' and it was nothing to worry about.

My mum took Ben in the house and wished them a happy trip. No sooner as the door had shut, Ben lurched forward, coughing and hacking, and then from his lungs produced what I could only describe as an enormous lump of white mucus or phlegm, literally two inches across. It reminded me of a lump of that fancy mozzarella you get in packets, it was all thick and gloopy. Luckily, being a wee nipper, I wasn't expected to help my mum clear up that awful mess, but from her face I could tell it was certainly not pleasant. If that sounded pretty disgusting (I could have gone more graphic if you'd like), the worst is yet to come.

Ben was running a fever an shaking quite violently so we put him in his basket and left him to it. About 15 minutes later I was alerted to him by a weak whimper, then I heard a noise that sounded like the wettest, dirtiest fart you could possibly imagine. Walking into the kitchen I was presented with a horrifying sight: Ben was lying on his side, just outside his basket with his rear end pointed towards his basket. In a 45 degree impact zone from the sphincter of this poor creature lay what must have been literally a bowel-load of hot, yellow, extremely smelly diarrhoea-esque shit. Some of this stuff had sprayed a good two metres. His basket was absolutely ruined. If that wasn't bad enough, at this moment Ben hacked and coughed up another load of the white goodness.

So there was this dog, practically surrounded in either phlegm or shit, lightly shaking. I did the only thing a 10-year-old would do at seeing and smelling this - I chundered. Chundered my fucking guts out. At this point my sister walked in, called my mum, and my mum came in. According to my sister, my mum at this point walked out the room, cried for a minute, then went and got some marigold gloves, a mop and bucket.

The absolute worst part of this story? This happened a good 3 or 4 times over the week. My mum is a fucking saint.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:59, 1 reply)
My nine-month old son
has just spectacularly vommed over me and half the sofa. His stomach must be like Dr Who's TARDIS.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:58, 1 reply)
The road to hell....
2 years ago I was at work and coming down with a spot of man flu. Early afternoon I realise I'm not gonna make it and am sent home.

Trouble is I live 35 miles away down the M5 motorway. So I set off home and am doing pretty well until I was quickly hit by that horrible vom nausea. It came on quickly, too quickly and from the middle lane of the motorway at 80mph I indicated to pull in and headed for the hard shoulder. I'd barely made it into the first lane or dropped below 70mph when the convulsion hit and I spewed.

Not wanting to crash I had to keep my eyes on the road and hands on the wheel so much to my own upset I puked all over the steering wheel, my hands and lap. You can not imagine the panic of trying to keep your eyes open, concentrate on driving and simultaneously puke.

I screeched to a halt on the hard shoulder and was throwing the door open when the next wave hit and this time I got my sleeve, the door pocket and finally some onto the road itself.

I practically fell to my knees out of the door still puking as I made my way to the back of the car and the grass verge. In between "spurts" I glanced up at the horrified faces of motorists witnessing this standing puke fountain addition to the motorway.

Eventually the torrents gave way to the dry wretch and I had to face my situation. I was still 20 miles from home, alone, on the motorway and the drivers seat, door trim, steering wheel and me are covered in a thick paste of beige tummy custard.

Luckily though in my pocket I had one crumpled tissue I'd been wiping my runny flu nose with earlier. I swear a shed a little vom tear as I doubled the tissue over again and again trying to eek out as much life from it as I could.

Then the fun part, I had to sit down in the puddle of vom on the seat, now nicely chilled by the winter air. I gripped the sticky steering wheel and drove home.

Upon arriving home I felt so weak and yucky all I could manage was a quick shower then into bed for 48 hours. I can assure you that leaving a puddle of vom for 48 hours in a locked car does nothing for the resale value...
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:54, 2 replies)
and amaretto, and apple sourz, and whatever else we could lay our hands on, and Lemsip. Not for funsies, just because I had a cold.
This was foolish and I ended up completely twatted.
Kicking out time, and we decided to take the river path home. I started coughing, and you know when you cough so hard that you retch? Well, the liquid contents of my stomach took the opportunity to come up too, and once that started it didn't stop.
I crouched down next to the river so I could puke into there. One huge retch, and yes, you guessed it, I somersaulted less-than-gracefully into the floating, oil-slick-like pile of vom in the river.
I cried all the way home.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:50, 1 reply)
Vomiting blood
Start of the university Christmas holidays 2008. I had been off the booze for two months previous to finishing my exams at 4pm on the last day of term, so understandably I went at it rather hard. I started drinking at 4.02pm and carried on until approximately 3am. I have two clear memories from that night - singing kareoke at 11pm and spilling a jug of cocktails on my shirt at 1am so I wasn't overly surprised to be woken - still pretty smashed - by the ten second second warning at 8am the next day. I legged it to the communal toilet (luckily right next to my room) and attempted to throw up my own large intestine. What happened next was one of the most scary things I have ever been through. I vomited up a vast amount of bright shiny red blood with weird stringy bits. This continued for about twenty seconds before I literally flung myself out of the bathroom and back into bed; shivering, shaking and convinced I was about to die.

It was then that I spotted the pint glass next to my bed with a tiny fraction of blackcurrant squash in the bottom.

I had got back from the pub paralytic, made myself some blackcurrant fucking squash, drunk it, and forgotten. The stringy bits were the remains of the highly suspicious hotdogs I had eaten at some point the previous night as I realized upon discovering the wrappers in my jacket pocket.

The relief was enormous but short lived. The vomiting continued for rather longer.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:44, Reply)
Mmmm mushroom
I remember (or rather I was told) that once at a teenage houseparty, I was having to be carried upstairs due to having imbibed a little too much Cinzano Bianco or whatever awful drink I'd liberated from my parents earlier.
"It's okay," said my mate who was doing the carrying to the teen who lived there. "Don't worry about the bed, he never pukes up."
Cue the inevitable vom from me as my mate was still halfway up the stairs.
"Brilliant" said someone behind him.
"Sorry, he never normally..." started my mate.
"No" said the person behind, "this is brilliant, he's thrown up an entire mushroom. Look."
And he apparently picked up the vom-stained but incredibly unchewed, large button mushroom and waved it around for all to see.
Chew your food, kids. That's the lesson here I think.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:40, 1 reply)
You know that diet coke and Mento's trick?
I can recreate something similar after a heavy night on the drink.

All it takes is "Andrews stomach salts". Ironically a product designed to settle your upset stomach etc.

I learnt, entirely by accident, that some Andrews appropriately mixed with water as directed once drunk takes approximately 30 seconds to make me puke like a vegas water fountain. Unfortunately I learnt this while sat on the sofa in the living room.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:39, 1 reply)
The worst or maybe 2nd place...
Every week my ma, pa and family friends and family would meet down the local pub (typical english family) and stay there for a couple of hours, giving the numerous amount of kiddlywinks anything they desired to keep whem placated, and quiet whilst they played bingo. This often meant chocolate, unlimited drinks, peanuts, crisps and if we were lucky pork scratchings. Working class family outing. One particular Sunday the pub had a newly installed slushy machine, cue on babyflee downing 5 of these icy drinks. Feeling fine washing the raspberry delight down with cheese and onion crisps all was good. Until the walk home, feeling a little ill I went to my room, then to the bathroom. Sitting on the floor with my legs either side of the toiling with my head hanging in shame down the U bend. You know whats coming considering the QOTW is about the worst vom.. Well the wave of convusions that went through my body were not ones of pleasure, especially when I could feel the ice cold slushy jumping out of my throat... again and again and again... the toilet looking like someone had dipped several 'vampire teabags' into the water turning it a bright crimson. With half digested crisps floating around the bowl... Never had rasberry slushy since.. the blue one is ok though.
Wonder how many will not be alcohol related?
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:38, Reply)
New Home?
It's just not "home" until you've puked there.

New year was quiet and my new house remains unchristened.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:36, 2 replies)
Free Bar
Went to a TV show premiere last year, due to timing I had to rush there after work so didn't get any food.

On arrival got given a glass of champange, this was followed by beer & cocktails. They did see fit to bring out some pasta after a while so I ate this.

After playing laser quest in the bar (it was the launch of Sarah Conner Chronicles) and dancing on the dancefloor the pasta wasn't sitting to well. I sat down and realised that I was going to vomit, knowing I wouldn't reach the loos in time I did something I thought would be brilliant and undetectable, I grabbed the nearest beer bottle and vomited into it. I say into, most ended up on the floor.

My mate seeing this realised it was time to go, we left sharpish and I threw up again outside.

I remember saying goodbye to him near Oxford Circus station as he was going to Croydon and me to Hillingdon, I said I'd be alright.

Next thing I remember is waking on the train (I may have been a little sick again) in Pinner. This I felt was quite impressive as it meant I got down the steps at Oxford circus and changed trains at Baker Street - admittedly the wrong train but at least the right direction. I got out and got a cab home.

Next day I get a text from my mate asking if I had thrown up, not because he remembered but he had just gone to put his shoes on and there was sick on them, my sick. I confessed I had.

The most embarassing thing about the night however wasn;t the vomiting, it was the dancing to Sweet Child of Mine (air guitar included) with one of the guys from Busted.

(For once I have a QOTW where I have many stories)
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:35, Reply)
never drink homebrew whisky
after a night out with my mates, we decided to go back to some bloke's house for a bit of a party. we didn't have much choice in drinks, just whisky. as we were all drunk, we decided sod it, we'll drink the whisky. what we didn't know is that it was homebrew whisky, pure hooch. unfortunately for me, i'm a greedy fucker, so i drank quite a bit more than anyone else.

six hours later, i was lying on my stomach in a hospital examination room, whilst a nurse cut my clothes off me and another nurse forced a tube down my throat.
what followed was a hellish 24 hours of vomiting a mixture of whisky, garlic bread and charcoal, hallucinating old women in the smoking room and enduring the worst hangover i've ever suffered in my life. i'm not saying it wasn't my own fault, but it was horrendous. it was so bad, i couldn't touch any alcohol for 2 years and even the smell of whisky makes me retch to this day.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:33, Reply)
party puke
I was at a party years ago, probably 17 or summat. Went straight from work so took my tie off, untucked my shirt and looked about 30% more suave than everyone else there. However, I'd just completed a 14 hour shift so was extremely knackered and hadn't even had my tea. 8 beers and a spliff later and I was gone.. I go to a room upstairs and try and stop my mind from drifting out my head when I'm sick all over the carpet. Red sick, which even in my drunken stupor I thought was a little odd.

I stumble to my feet, push the door open and collapse next to the stair bannister.

I awake to an angry, bald-headed chap built like a brick shithouse bemoaning the little shit who'd been sick in his room. Words like "If I find that bastard" and "Did you see anyone come in here" were enough to bring me back to life, down the stairs and out of the house fairly sharpish.

Never been sick since then.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:33, Reply)
160 pages of QOTW suggestions and we have a repeat?? AGAIN
Oh well, see ya next Thursday
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:32, 2 replies)
Everting the Stomach
Once, when my coccyx was healthier and I was extreeeemely foolish, I decided to try to mix rubbing alcohol with Kool-Aid. This didn't work and my friend Georg and I ended up throwing it out. Georg then stole a bottle of vodka from his dad, add a little more Kool-Aid and result!

We were so happy we decided to go a few houses down to an older girl's house who I had earlier espied skinny dipping with a skinny and fat friend (another story) and swim naked in her pool.

For some reason, this seemed like a major turn-on and I couldn't get the flag pole down. The large amount of sweetened Vodka, added to my first try of chewing tobacco (vile stuff) and the weird sensation of swimming with an unjustified boner caused me to become very sick.

I don't remember, but I apparently gorped on the plastic astroturf they had put around their pool and passed out. Georg had to take me, naked as a Croatian, back to my house and left me starkers in the back garden. I somehow made it inside and awoke the next morning to find my "Live at Leeds" inner sleeve covered in faeces and a huge dump in my clothes hamper. 20 years later you can still see the red mark by their pool.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:30, 4 replies)
I may have told this last time, but under a different username which has been deleted (by my request) so not sure.
I was with an ex of mine, some 13yrs ago and decided to go to the local for a session. Upon arriving home we both went to bed.
Sometime later I woke up with the urgent need to throw up, I hauled myself out of bed and ran to the bathroom to find in my pissed state that the door wouldn't open, so I did the manly thing and kicked the door open, luckily the toilet was right in front of the door so when I lost the contents of the evenings drinking it didn't create too much of a mess, well it wouldn't have done if the ex hadn't got up a few minutes before me and was sat on the loo at the time.
Not a good sight, your bird covered head to toe in puke! To be fair though all she said was 'cheers Kip' I tootled back to bed and left her to clear up the mess (I'm nice like that!). Still feel a little guilty about that.
Ho Hum.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:28, Reply)
Shortly after stumbling on board an overnight bus from Osaka to Tokyo
About a seven-hour journey if I recall. Not that I remember much of it, having spent the whole day drinking at a wedding.

I was much younger and stupider then. It won't happen again.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:27, Reply)
I got hiccups just last night
then proceded to do a work out - then proceded to puke.

bad times
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:27, 1 reply)
Kangaroo meat.... Every time.

I first encountered Roo meat in the UK while a student. Always one to try something new in the meat department (ooer) I gave it a go. It's pretty tough/stringy stuff and wasn't really my thing (Ostrich on the other hand is Yum!).

After a few hours the gut pains start and I know I'm in trouble.... When the inevitable happened it was one of the toughest vom-exit manouvres I've ever had.

I swear this stuff had been sat in my stomach far from breaking down into smaller bits it must have been enlisting evil friends for it's nasty plot. What came up was lumps decidedly bigger than I'd originally swallowed, which as you might imagine was a bit of a surprise and I suddenly found I was in trouble as I tried to choke them out and breathe in through my nose. Job all done I put it down as a bad experience and forgot about it....

...until about 7 years later when in Australia (living there for a year) the Kangaroo meat found itself back on my menu. Cooked properly at a decent restaurant this time I had higher hopes. Until I found myself curled up in the foetal position on the floor of the large walk in shower at my hotel room in a puddle of kangaroo tainted vom.

My conclusion, Skippy doesn't want me to eat him.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:25, 2 replies)
A mate of mine loves scooping up vomit
from outside our local Weatherspoons pub and cupping it in his hands while its still nice and steamy hot. Then he finds a nice quiet alleyway where he unzips and slips his dick in the hot wet chunky carrot splodge until he spluffs with the awsome force of a lethiathan God. Then he wipes his hands clean of the puke and spunk mix on the walls or whatever vagrant happens to be dossing in the vicinity and he carries on on his merry way.

Most people say he's demented.

Personally I just think he's a sick fucker.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:24, 9 replies)
tame by comparison with what is to come, im sure ...
most of a bottle of vodka on an empty stomach resulted in the vodka, plus stomach acid and a small amount of blood coming back up mere hours later. at least i made the sink.

ill for three days, drink one mug of blackcurrant tea, two minutes later purple vomit ensued. shame i didnt quite make the basin that time.

maybe not as bad as food-vom, with all the carrotty bits in and certainly not as bad as having vomit coupled (or tripled) with stuff coming out of other ends, but there you go, i live a relatively vomit-free life :)))
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:21, Reply)
Well, he gave me this bloody waffer thin mint...

(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:18, 2 replies)
Warning not seen on the label
A litre of vodka will ruin a carpet when it has spent an hour in your belly first . That is all
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:18, 1 reply)
You first page obsessives make me sick
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:15, Reply)

(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:14, Reply)
Hurrah! yes I am! Better put a story here I suppose...

Back in the mists of time, my good self and a group of my bestest buddies had been to see a popular beat combo performing a selection of their hits. One of us had managed to scrounge a lift home from his father, and three more of us tagged along to save a bit of cash.

It was a cold night and Dean's father was (and probably still is) a miserable sod, his grumpiness not helped by an extra three pissed teens shoehorning themselves into the back of his elderly Renault. The heat inside the car soon combined with the illicit booze to make me feel rather odd. I tried to open the window. It was a three door so no go there. Soon even breathing became an exercise in self control as my stomach decided that empty was probably a better state to be in.

It was the quietest vomit I have ever had, before or since and was only noticed by my friend sat next to me who quickly looked the other way and kept his gaze fixed forward for the rest of the 45 minute journey.

I just sat there, covered in cooling, congealing vomit till I could finally get out of the car and i could throw my ready formed pavement pizza onto, well, the pavement.
(, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 17:13, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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