Sick Secrets
As a general rule, I hold my drink very well, and do not engage in sexist thoughts or behaviour. However, I don't hold a bellyful of red wine quite so well when subjected to about an hour of hot, humid, smelly, and particularly rattly tube travel. Even with some nice stomach-lining chips. I can also become, unfairly, a little anti-men after an evening of hearing my male colleagues laugh about cheating on their girlfriends, then being unwillingly frotted by random perv on aforementioned tube. This combination of events resulted in me staggering off the train at Euston, making it across to the other side of Eversholt St before realising I had scant seconds before spewing, and using those scant few seconds to make the choice between aiming for a handy bin or for the classy Secrets "international table dancing club". Redecorated the front entrance, doormat, and the shoes and lower trousers of some of the leery mouthbreathers in the queue. *Favourite*sick*ever*
(Turangalila, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 19:55, Reply)