The bizarre fate of the third Spinal Tap drummer
Marty: And he was replaced by...uh....
Marty: What happened to Stumpy Joe?
Derek: Well, uh, it's not a very pleasant story..but, uh,
David: He's passed on.
Derek: he died. uh...he choked on..the ac- the official explanation was he choked on vomit.
Nigel: It was actually, was actually someone else's vomit.
It's not....
David: It's ugly.
Nigel: You know. There's no real....
Derek: You know they can't prove whose vomit it was...they don't have the facilities at Scotland Yard....
David: You can't print, there's no way to print a spectra-photograph
Nigel: You can't really dust for vomit.
(Fancy a weekend on my Raymondo Luxury Yacht?, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 19:16, Reply)

Not the most pleasant of mixtures
After a hard days graft in the bike shop, I went home and had a chinese takeaway with the parents. At about 7, went to the local boozer and went on a spree of pints of Tennents lager, Jack Daniels + coke, and to top it all off, Jaegerbombs.

After about 12 of each, started to feel a bit queasy, so I went outside for some cool Millport air. Felt a bit better, and when that happens, it can only be bad. Had a bottle of Miller to start me off again. Thats when it all went wrong.

My stomach lurched, and again, and again. Unfortunately, the bottle of Miller was still at my lips, the contents of my stomach were ejected over the bottle, which caused it to fan out, all over the bar and dancefloor. Luckily, it was after 1:45, and was therefore chucking out time.

The worst part is, I was made to clean it up, and every I go in,I have the piss thoroughly taken out me.

Chinese + Copious volumes of alcohol /= a pleasant end to the evening
( RossThePiper Stretch Armstrong is my Father, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 19:09, Reply)

I might have a story shortly.
Our freezer door was left open, and all the contents defrosted. my stepdad decided that we should still eat it all, and hes cooking *chicken* fajitas.

The house is currently full of rancid *beef mince* smells, yet he is actually cooking chicken.

I'm not eating it.
(Ethelred is watching cheese grow, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 19:05, Reply)

I once ate something that disagreed with me.
It thought I shouldn't eat it.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 18:55, 1 reply)

I once had something that upset my tummy.
It made me sick :(
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 18:50, Reply)

Chocoboozevomcrap
A number of years ago a friend gave me a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang box set; DVD, soundtrack CD, die cast model chitty AND a BOGOF voucher for tickets to the west end show. Brilliant birthday present.

I’m not a fan of musicals but CCBB is one of my favourite childhood movies so we travelled all the way from Scotland and made a weekend of it.

The show was actually pretty good, but halfway into the first act a very very drunk Chinese bloke staggered in and sat behind us to much tutting and harrumphing. He was dressed in black tie and absolutely reeked of brandy. He then started munching his way through an enormous box of chocolates and laughing hysterically at all the wrong moments. I tried to ignore all this and watch the show but he seemed to be bothering the people beside him.

Then came the smell. Brandy chocolate sickly sweet sick and, well I can’t be sure, but I think he may well have shat himself too. Security removed him but the vomit didn’t get cleared until the interval. I always thought Truly Scrumptious was a bit saccharine but I now only associate the film with Chocoboozevomcrap, which as much as it may sound like it, is not one of the big musical numbers.

Sorry if you were expecting a pun.
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 18:37, 6 replies)

Glastonbury
Now, you may think that a trip to Glastonbury would be full of vomit-related hilarity, however, being of a collectively strong gastric constitution, my friends and I escaped the muddy hell-hole of fancy wellies and unused cooking paraphernalia without so much as a hiccup.

The horror occurred on the dreaded post-festival coach ride. It was warm, very warm (like being in a forest with Heather Locklear) and the journey was to take us all the way to Manchester. It was the usual collection of poor folk with the mandatory soul-ache that comes with a few days of merriment away from the prying eyes of the law.

Having gotten a little bit sunburnt, my friend had applied after-sun lotion. Pretty smart you may think, but combined with being unwashed this left her smelling a little funky. Like nappies. This did not sit well with the kid sat next to her on the coach. Oh no. The delightful young cherub turned and un-ate his lunch all over her.

This did not improve the journey.
(Chairman Lmao Something something your mum, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 17:47, Reply)

I was on the bus
when a fat kid who'd obviously been fed too many sweets (obvious from the smell) jumped up and ran to the stairs whilst barfing all over the place. He made up for it by slipping on his own sick and falling down the stairs rolling over and spewing a bitlike a Catherine wheel. It was funny and disgusting all rolled up into sweet smelling orange goo.
(GesticularDancer is sorry if my jokes been done better before, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 17:03, Reply)

Two "women" were fighting on the street out side the kebab house in my local town last night.
One was really quite large, and the other was quite thin, however unfathomably ugly. It started with a little bit of slapping then Jabba got the big guns out and punched the thin girl so hard in the stomach that she projected vomit all over the fat girls face. The fat one had been shouting bitch very aggressively at the time and got a mouth full of cheap vodka/half eaten kababy vomit, which in turn made her vomit (and simultaneously punch- got to give it to her she was capable of looking after herself much in the same way a banished cavewoman looks after herself) all over the thin girl. They continued fighting in a vomit covered, inebriated way until the police arrived about 5 minutes later and had to peel them apart. The look on the Policeman's face of utter dismay and disgrace at both what he had to do and the sight of the whole situation was as if he was watching 2girls1cup. Priceless!
( Mr Jamie, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 16:58, 1 reply)

boke life
When we were in the first couple of years of comp we had little to do at lunchtime other than hang around at the kids park. It was one of those horrible 60s/70s ones where everything was made of cast iron with inches of paint from the decades.
One day we were on the roundabout spinning 'Tingle', one of the lads from 2nd year. We ended up spinning it so fast that he couldnt get off without doing some serious damage to himself and sprayed peas and chips in a 3/4 circle.
The odd thing was, despite his stick like stature, he'd managed to pack away at least 3 portions of chips and peas and some of the chips were unbitten and pretty long.
( Barry the Time Sprout one of your 5-a-day, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 16:34, Reply)

On the N207
The good old night bus.

Me and my flatmates from Uni decided to head into London for a night out, what followed was a pretty decent one too - I even managed to have a fair few Jamesons without the inevitable sickness (can't say the same about the violent outbursts but that's another story for another time). The place was called On Anon and as far as I know it still is. Look it up it's in central London.

So my good mate Nick was destroyed as per usual and proceeded to be kicked out onto the street, namely the massive Piccadilly Circus street. Now being the supportive mates we were at the time we promptly told him to stay out the front, try not to get raped and we'd see him at closing. Which we did.

Being Nick he'd gone straight to one of the hot dog stands that line this stretch of pavement and not having enough money, he'd bartered a bit of bread with mustard on. Then lost his wallet for the 3rd time that year (he's currently on 9 I think the total score is). Come 2ish me and the boys headed out to find him and trek the street or 2 to find the night bus. We found him anyway, covered from knee to toe in mustard (god knows how a hot dog could have so much of the yellow stuff on it) and got the bus.

We headed straight upstairs and were shortly joined by a rowdy bird who wouldn't shut up (just as our headaches were nicely settling in) and her 2 mates who seemed decent enough. Now all this time the focus was on Nick and making sure we didn't lose him and he wasn't sick on himself (or us) but from nowhere, my mate Tom let loose a river of sick that took on its own currents and tides every set of traffic lights and roundabout!

This set the girl off even more but what she didn't realise was that the sick was slowly closing in on her and shortly she was surrounded (think Admiral Ackbar "it's a trap!" it was that stealthy). Needless to say we were lauging like fuck for the next 2 hours watching her struggle to keep away from this river of bile that seemed to follow her for the rest of the journey, classic.
(Captain Sensible "I'll be your animal in a yellow plastic bin", Sat 9 Jan 2010, 16:26, Reply)

Several come to mind.
The brightest was puking a bottle of Lucozade over a white sequined shirt, under fluorescent lights, at Leeds warehouse. It made lovely orange patterns.
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Sat 9 Jan 2010, 16:01, Reply)

A good friend Mark
Awoke in Hospital after surviving a 50ft fall off a rock face, he had fractured his vertebrae and broken his ankle and as a precaution he was strapped to a bed wearing a full neck brace to stop his head moving.

When you have such injuries the body goes into shock and projectile vomiting is not uncommon, unfortunately Mark's body decided to go into shock while he was on his back wearing the neck brace.

All he could do was watch the puke go flying at a 90 degree angle straight up, until gravity took effect and brought it back down covering himself in his own vomit.
( Terry Oblong There's nobody here but us chickens on, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 15:17, 2 replies)

Purple
as a youth, i did as all youths in Bridgwater did and attended "Toffs" nightclub - where pretty much everyone was under 18 or over 40

taking full advantage of an offer on a purple alcopop called mad cow, i entered a state of considerable inebriation, and went home about midnight, having been requested to leave the premises. the rest isnt very clear...

suffice to say i awoke at around 7am, wrapped around the toilet, bollock naked after a hefty kick from my mother.

once i was dressed, i was shown around the house. there was purple sick in EVERY room, even ones that were not on my route from the door to my bedroom/the bathroom. i had managed to get lost in my own house, which i'd lived in from the day i was born!
(court escaper, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 15:07, 1 reply)

Nil by mouth....
It was just over a year ago and yours truly was in Hospital, having had major major abdominal surgery. For four days before my operation I'd been nil by mouth, waiting for a surgery slot to come up. Well I say nil by mouth, all I'd had was tons of liquid morphine for four days.
The day after my surgery they thought it was time I ate something. Hospital menus are not particularly inspiring but I thought that a plain piece of chicken breast would not be too taxing for my poor, butchered insides.
My stomach thought otherwise. I projectile vomited the chicken (and something bright lime green) all across the floor of the ward. It was the worst vomit ever as far as I was concerned as it's pretty nasty to have your stomach muscles violently expelling the contents of your gut when it's only two days since you were sliced open from sternum to pubis and all said muscles have been cut through and then stapled back together. I think even the nurses were impressed that I got chicken and bile in a 10-foot arc of the floor, wall and drip stand.
It fucking hurt doing it though.
( Sallyrsm, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 14:59, Reply)

"Follow the puke breadcrumbs"
Me mate's 19th birthday night we'd decided to ranksack some friend's flat and replace the entire contents of his fridge with as much alcohol as we could stuff in there. Along with the only remaining foodstuff there which was a solitary cabbage.

Birthday boy turns up and the party begins. Drinks of wine, beer, lager, vodka, whiskey etc etc. After the warmup, we then hit the taxis and make it to a few clubs. Lots 'n' lots of drinking, including the birthday boy being allowed to stay in a club to drink himself to the point of outer body experiences as he knew the manager of the club who was egging him with drink as well. An "after-hour" lock-in occured and we left a good hour after everyone else had, all quite happily pissed, except for the birthday boy who was now talking to Elvis in the corner.

End of the lock-in we all stumble out of the club and head for the taxi rank. No taxis or queues there, so we stand about for a bit. Except for birthday boy, who is now attempting to hump a nearby tree while shouting to us "LEAVE ME BE! I KNOW THE WAY HOME!!!!". A taxi drives past and is about to stop until he witnesses some oak-rape, tells us to fuck off and keeps driving.

After some effort was put in, we managed to get birthday boy off the tree and lean him up next to one of the lads. The next taxi comes past and this time stops for us.
"Ok if we lean him out of the window driver?" asks I.
"Sure, just don't drop him" jokes the driver.
So we hang him out of the rear passenger side window. We go up the road and reach the outskirts of the city centre, which is about 3 miles by road to our target destination of back to the party flat. And that's when he starts puking.

He didn't projectile vomit though, he was aiming downwards for all of it. But instead there was a constant dribble of puke and alcohol pouring from him all the way upto the flat. Because we'd hit all green traffic lights on the road too, coupled with the lack of traffic at 4am, this led to birthday boy creating a puke-distance record of the complete 3 miles upto the road outside the flat.

We shuffled out of the taxi and carried him inside, paying and thanking the driver while failing to tell him that his rear car door was covered in puke on the outside.

Gotta be some kind of distance record that.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 14:42, Reply)

New Year
This new year i went round to my mates for a booze up. blah de blah

Next morning i awoke on the kitchen worktop and went to the bathroom to empty the tanks from the night before.

Opened the door and saw the most disgusting sight ever.

My mate was lying in the bath in about 2 and a half inches of sick. it was all over him aswell. there were footprints made out of sick going up the wall and the ceiling. People had written in sick on the bathroom wall and the toilet was almost up to the brim with sick...

There were alot of people at the party, but i didnt realise they were all lightweights...
(Shuzbee4life Wheres the Beef!?, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 14:23, Reply)

My girlfriend was sick last night, for the first time in years.
Epic amounts of liquid vomit. For the first time in an equally long time, I was on water-fetching, hair-holding and trying-not-to-vomit-myself duty.

Coincidence? I blame you, b3ta.
( le brian, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 13:32, Reply)

Worst vomit? Nay best vomit!
First few weeks at University, living in halls when I went all out and consumed a bottle of whisky. However, this is merely narrative but the next morning I blithely walked out of my room to go to the shared conveniences at the bottom of the hall way congratulating myself on how fine I felt. There was one other bint in the hall way who was staring at me. All I can say is I smiled and my face cracked. That was when I realised that something was amiss. On closer examination in a mirror it appeared that I had leaked black crud all over my face whilst sleeping and it had dried providing me with a delightfully novel facepack.
(Miss Terry toed the line on, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 13:07, Reply)

Dog puke
My sister used to sleep in one of those bunk beds with a desk underneath (she had a very small room). As she isn't really a morning person, I once thought it would be a jolly jape to wake her up by taking the family Yorkshire terrier into her room and letting him dig her out of the fart sack.

This worked well until the dog, having successfully roused my formerly sleeping and now swearing sister, appeared at the edge of the bed wanting to be lifted down. As I took hold of him he spoke fluent Welsh. Right onto my face.

Hot dog sick looks and tastes a bit like Toast Toppers, but is probably more nutritious.
(rogerzilla, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 12:04, 1 reply)

Peas peas everywhere
When I was with my ex, we ventured to a friend's place for Christmas night drinks, as was the tradition with her and her friends. It was a mighty festive night, and many drinks were being made. Now, the friend of a friend who was hosting was somewhat of a "fag-hag", and given the gay friends who were also present, it was decided daiquiris would be the order of the night. (Again with the rum? Don't I learn like normal people?)

The rum ran out. At which strawberry daiquiris were being made with strawberries and champagne. Well, not real champagne, cheap Pinot Noir Chardonnay bubbly. That's not bad...that made champagne cocktails.

Then the strawberries ran out. But we hadn't finished drinking. So, it was decided that the nearest thing to strawberries to make daiquiris/champagne cocktails was strawberry jam.

That's when my ex retired to the bathroom, and was overcome by nausea. She sat in the shower/bath, in her calf-length dress, and proceeded to vomit up pretty much everything she'd eaten for the previous 48 hours. And being Christmas, hot turkey meal and all, that meant lots and lots of peas. She sat in the bath wailing and vomiting for ages. Somehow, she managed to not get a single drop of spew on her dress. That still puzzles me to this day.

A week or so later, we were talking to the people who hosted the night of drunken shame. They said that a few days later, they were cleaning, and found, perched by the shampoo, a single, completely intact pea.

No apologies for length, but we did apologise for having to mash all the peas down the bath plughole.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Sat 9 Jan 2010, 10:53, Reply)

New Years' Eve, 1987
My friends and I had determined to make the New Years Eve of 1987 memorable. And so it was to be.

We hadn't planned the night much, other than the idea of drinking into numbness. So food was somewhat of an afterthought.

My best mate (still my closest friend to this day) was well and truly under the thumb of a large-bosomed harridan, who wouldn't let him lash out at all. She went out at one stage to try and find food. So my mate decided to get as many drinks down between when she left, and when she returned. While she was gone, I was behind the bar dishing out drinks full of alcohol-y goodness. The drink of choice for my mate and me was Bacardi and Coke (yes, I know, but I was young and stupid...). We drained one entire bottle of Bacardi, and alas there was no more. So onto the Bundy (aka Bundaberg Rum, aka hate in a bottle). I lost count of how many we downed. Then we emptied the bottle of Coke I had out on the bar. I had doled out a small (read at least a triple) Bundy for my mate, and went under the bar to retrieve the next bottle of Coke from the bar fridge. When I resurfaced, my mate was standing with a shocked look on his face, eyes watering, with an empty glass in front of him. "What the fuck did you just give me?!" he asked accusingly.

This is where things, in retrospect, started a downhill run, which wouldn't be stopped until much much later.

The harridan returned with food. The only thing they were able to track down were some very dodgy hot dogs. Brick two in the wall of wrong.

Then the music was being played. My mate, shy and retiring usually, but by this stage off his tits, thought dancing was in order. As did some of the girls there. And the girls thought it would be funny to make him dance in a jump up, down and all around manner. Looking back, it was really just shaking the carbonated drink shaker full of rum, Coke and Hot dogs which was my mate.

Then it happened. Not vomit. Oh, no. Worse. Another friend, thought it would be awesomely funny (well...it was really) to crash tackle my mate while he was jumping around on the grass. My mate hit the grass with enough force to leave a small face-shaped indent in the lawn.

And then the spewing started. He ran around like a spew sprinkler, liberally watering the garden with his hot dog vom. then he wanted to come inside. being drunk and full of Bundy - remember I said it's known as hate in a bottle - he somehow possessed superhuman strength, and made it it. One of the larger of our friends decided the only course of action would be to carry him out, firemans' carry style. That provoked more spew. At which point, a friend trailing behind selflessly sacrificed himself to save to cream coloured carpet, and caught a liberal handful of liquid hot dog.

We ended up locking him out for the night, and he slept uncomfortably on a banana lounger on the patio. There was more vomiting being done through the night, conscious and unconscious.

We awoke the next morning to view his sorry wrecked state. He had ended up wearing a large portion of his own bodily fluids.

He staggered to his feet. He came to the sliding door, and hammered pathetically on it, trying to get inside. He looked sad. Confused. Still very fucked.

then he uttered the immortal lines, which we still remind him of today: "Hey..... Some bastard threw up on my shirt"
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Sat 9 Jan 2010, 10:32, 1 reply)

just how tough is corn?
The evening meal included corn. We were on a game fishing boat and moored overnight in a sheltered part of the Great Barrier Reef. This was a long time ago, before boats were required to store 'waste' on board and bring it back to shore, so what went down the toilet simply found its way out into the ocean.
The next morning, while everyone's still waking up, I got out the fly rod and started catching a few reef fish. A couple of the others came down to watch the fun as I tussled with a small cod. Brought it onto deck where it performed the natural 'gag' reflex and vomited it's last meal onto the deck between the three of us.
You guessed it - corn! Quite a bit of it. It's already been through one of us, floated around a bit, been eaten and then regurgitated by a fish and yet it still looked fine. We were tempted to gather it up and mix it into the baked beans for breakfast!
( woowoowoo, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 9:36, 1 reply)

At the fair
It was the day the fair came to town. I like fairs for the atmosphere but the bumper cars is about my limit. Not long started going out with this girl who wanted to go on the ride shown half way down this page www.ainsleyguesthouse.co.uk/area I knew it was a bad idea but to impress her I was going on it. About half way through the ride my stomach had had enough. Of course she was sat on the outside so despite my best efforts I couldn't beat the laws of physics. Not sure if I got anyone else. We went back to mine where I let her borrow a change of t-shirt and sweat shirt. She decided that she was not going to stay the night so I got a 6 mile round trip walking her home as exercise instead of what I had planned.
(jvz, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 8:58, Reply)

Dam unpleasant
Once as a small child I threw up in my bed after eating rather too much at dinner. I quickly stuck my arm out to stop the pool of vomit from cascading off the edge of the mattress onto the floor, and then considered my dilemma.

If I moved my arm, the puke would escape and splatter all over the carpet. That ruled out getting up to tell my parents. However, they were watching TV in another room with the door shut. I tried yelling, but nobody heard me. I ended up lying in bed for the next hour or so with my arm restraining a pool of cooling vomit until my parents finally finished watching their show and came into range of my plaintive cries.
(oball needs Satan more than he needs me, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 8:18, 1 reply)

Not my vomit, but I might have engineered it a bit...
I'd been going out with a girl at uni and it had all seemed rather serious. However, things unravelled over the Easter holiday and when we got back to uni, I found she was going out with my friend instead.
Now, I'm not usually the type for big grudges, despite being rather unhappy about the situation. After a few weeks, everything seemed fine between the three of us and my friend and I went out for a few drinks at one of the hall bars (Stoneham, if you went to Southampton Uni). After a few beers, we decided to go for a spot of shot-downing. This particular bar had a very-well stocked set of shelves at the back for this sort of thing.
Everything's going well by the fifth shot, but then my friend buys a round of whiskey. Whisky is one of those things I can't abide and just the smell of it can make me gag when sober and my friend knew this, but I couldn't lose face at this stage of the proceedings.
The whiskey went down and luckily stayed down, but war had been declared.
A couple of drinks later, I could see my friend was getting a litte frayed round the edges. He got in a pair of flaming Drambuies and proceeded to burn his had putting it out. While he was cursing, I put mine out with my wallet. Once that had been negotiated, we moved onto a few more innocuous spirits.
However, after each shot, he was starting to go a bit still, holding on to the bar with a fixed expression, staring into space. Each new shot was producing a longer pause like this and I could see he was close to parking the vomit bus on the floor. Last orders was rung and I decided to deliver the killing blow. There was a drink that affected him in the same way as whiskey did to me. Triple Sec.
Two of these are promptly ordered. Mine went down the hatch. My friend only noticed what it was half-way down and spent a full minute fighting the colourful inner demons that wanted to erupt into the world. Somehow, somehow, it stayed down.
As we walked back, I could see that he was in a bad way. Perambulation was almost gone and the slurring of his words was akin to a stroke victim. As we approached the halls, I could see his new girlfriend's bedroom light was on. Time for the final stroke of cruelty.
"Hey, she's still up, why don't you go up and see her?"
"Shash, shash a good idea, Borish."
Ten minutes later, having just settled into bed, my phone rings.
"Hello?"
"What the bloody hell have you done to him? He's just thrown up all over my bed!"

After that everything was fine. Several years later, he was best man at my wedding.
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Sat 9 Jan 2010, 6:26, Reply)

once i had a bath with mrs.fiend and got bubblebath in my mouth and done a sicks all in the water :( but it was very funny because it was meant to be a sexybath *true fact*
( FIEND, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 6:17, 4 replies)

One of the many dumb things I have done
was as young Air Force appentice when I thought for some reason that it would be a good idea to fill a two litre bottle with a 750ml of shit vodka and 1.25l of coke. I managed to consume approximately three quarters of this mix before the first half of "Jaws" was over along with 4 packets of BBQ chips (crisps for you lot). I do remember vomiting while leaning against a tree and a building. I went to bed, I cannot recall how many times I threw up in my bed, each time pushing the "dirty" bit away and pulling in a "clean" bit, imagining that I would be no longer laying in bbq chip and vodka spew. I the morning I found that most of myself and the bedsheets were covered in half dry brown flaky stuff. Feeling rather ill, as I had done all of the night, I made my way to the communal type showers of the day, and spent most of the rest of the day, curled up in the shower, miserable as fuck while my guts turned themselves inside out from dry retching. I have not touched vodka again to this day, that would have to be about 26 years ago.
(M61A1 CUPID- STUNTS, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 5:21, Reply)

There have been a few...
Examples of the 'mouth poo' style of vomit already mentioned so far. I too have experienced this phenomena first hand and whilst my story isn't as horrifying as some of those, it nonetheless was a disturbing and frightening experience and one that needs to be relayed.
A few years back my Friday night routine would be as follows; Finish work, Triple S (Shit, Shower, Shave), pub, club, kebab/pizza, friends house, pass out. A very familiar sounding routine to very many people.
Well on this one occasion nothing untoward had happened, the drink consumed wasn't excessive and no dodgy food had been consumed, apart from the kebab it would seem. On this night out I decided to go home instead of stay at a friends and it turned out to be quite a sensible decision. Got home feeling alright, drank a glass of water, brushed teeth and went to bed. Awoke some hours later with the slow grumbling in my stomach. I ignored it at first but soon came to realise that I may need to be in the vicinity of some sort of receptacle pretty soon, so off to the bathroom.
There I stood, arms outstretched, head down, holding on to the sink not sure if i really needed to purge my dinner or not when I involuntarily drew in a massive amount of breath, just as well or I might be dead now, then it came. The longest, slowest, most excruciating wretch ever. I could feel the pressure building up in my eyes and the blood rushing to my head as a lump of matter slowly made its way up my oesophagus. I was making sounds like Arnie in Total Recall when he gets sucked out of the dome in to the atmosphere free wastes of Mars, but while being choked at the same time.
What the fuck? Why was it taking so long to come? My vision was starting to black out and my grip on the sink loosening by the time the monstrosity slowly filled my gob and flopped out of my mouth making a sickening splat sound as I gasped for air.
The kebab I had consumed earlier had not been digested at all really and resembled a large bowl full of 2 day old dried porridge. With hindsight it would have been easier to pick it up and put it in the bin but instead I chose to try and rinse it away. Didn't make a good job of it in the state I was in and the sink never did drain properly ever again. I was just glad to survive the ordeal and can comiserate with others who have found themselves suffering from this gastric gaffe. Didn't touch kebabs for a while after that either.

On a different story, the new years just gone I vomited in my girlfriends hair whilst asleep and spooning her. She was not impressed...
(Megamoss, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 3:39, Reply)