my best vom
came a few years ago whilst staying at a mate's house...

we got tanked up on tinned booze (adds that delicate metallic note when it rushes through your nostrils several hours later) to celebrate the finishing of my mate's kitchen, he'd spent a few grand making it look REALLY nice.

After said boozage we went to the local snooker club for a few rounds of pool and more liquid refreshment.

At kicking out time I spied a fine fast food outlet selling the greasiest nastiest kebabs known since the old testament, and proceeded to wolf it down. In the meantime my mate's missus proudly proclaimed she had bought a bottle of voddie from the supermarket prior the afternoon's lubrication.

We repaired to his dining room and proceded to play poker until the wee hours and finished off the ASDA smart price. Let it be known that this stuff is in fact turpentine in a pretty bottle.

They went up to bedfordshire leaving me in the living room on the sofa. I was lying on my back and noticed the room was spinning in a not-so delightful manner and then up she came...

The kebab riddled acidic vom fountain reached about 5 feet into the air, right up the newly papered wall and drenched the sofa. During vomtime I sobered up PDQ and thought what to do with the mess.

In my semi-battered state I staggered through his oak-floored dining room with my hands cupping a huge pile of mushy spew, and thought the best place for it was in the kitchen sink. Tipped a couple of handfuls in there and went to fetch more from the living room whilst leaving the tap on to run the last lot down the drains.

Good plan, I thought, only to return to find the (brand new) sink overflowing due to large hunks of very greasy meat blocking the plug/pipe/everywhere.

In a blind panic/stupor I ran out the front of the house and deposited another couple of handfuls of vom down behind the front wall onto the road, went back inside and passed out on the living room floor.

My first words to his stricken looking missus when she walked into the front room were "I think I've been a bit poorly..." The scream from the kitchen confirmed this!

I ended up paying for a plunger, upholsterers and then the drain folks as it seems quite a bit of kebaba had congealed down the waste pipe - bad times.

The best thing is they still think some random was walking by outside and heard me spewing which is why they sprayed equally acidic spume all over their front wall.

Needless to say I haven't troubled Mr. Smartprice since...
(Suomi_Finland_Perkele knocking 256 shades of shit out of your screen on, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 21:28, Reply)