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)
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)
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Just some days ago...
I don't know if it was down to excessive face stuffing over the days of Christmas, where excessive face stuffing is somewhat de rigueur, but my face had well and truly been stuffed, to excess. Boxing Day had passed and the swell of my stomach was slowly passing when I was treated to a very heavy, stodgy meal of fish and chips; just the tonic for a heavily distended belly, you might not think.
As I rolled into bed that evening I sensed something was amiss about my middle, but not one to let anything disturb my precious snoozes I pressed on with the important matter of getting some shut-eye, completely unaware of the foul, ruinous mess I would soon make toilet wise.
I slept a torrid and broken sleep, rocking on my rotund middle and sensing the disturbance that was building deep inside my insides. Then morning came, I opened my eyes and knew in an instant that I'd soon have to shout for Ralph down the porcelain phone.
And so it soon proved to be. Two days of chundering, followed by another two without taking on solids weren't pleasant for a man who loves to eat as I do, but I did start the new year with none of the chubbiness that Christmas usually provides me, so I can't complain, not really.
( , Fri 8 Jan 2010, 11:23, Reply)
I don't know if it was down to excessive face stuffing over the days of Christmas, where excessive face stuffing is somewhat de rigueur, but my face had well and truly been stuffed, to excess. Boxing Day had passed and the swell of my stomach was slowly passing when I was treated to a very heavy, stodgy meal of fish and chips; just the tonic for a heavily distended belly, you might not think.
As I rolled into bed that evening I sensed something was amiss about my middle, but not one to let anything disturb my precious snoozes I pressed on with the important matter of getting some shut-eye, completely unaware of the foul, ruinous mess I would soon make toilet wise.
I slept a torrid and broken sleep, rocking on my rotund middle and sensing the disturbance that was building deep inside my insides. Then morning came, I opened my eyes and knew in an instant that I'd soon have to shout for Ralph down the porcelain phone.
And so it soon proved to be. Two days of chundering, followed by another two without taking on solids weren't pleasant for a man who loves to eat as I do, but I did start the new year with none of the chubbiness that Christmas usually provides me, so I can't complain, not really.
( , Fri 8 Jan 2010, 11:23, Reply)
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