» My Worst Vomit

I have vomited twice in my life
First time was back when I first started school, must have been no more than twelve or eleven. Sitting in maths class and the night before I had the bestest ever curry dahl and chicken curry.

However day after mate who I was sitting next to let off the most disgusting welsh fog of a fart ever. I dry retched, put my jumper over my nose to filter it out and he thought it was hilariously funny. Next part my hand was over my face because I knew I was going to spew and didn't want to cover my work. A good tip iv'e learnt when spewing is not to put your hand over your mouth. The vom was angled precisely all over mate, with a little splashback upon my face and some on my work. He started to cry, I was whisked off to the toilets when I met my mum, coincidentially she came to ask me how to fix the computer so I was taken home, and spent the day fixing a computer. Yay!

Queue new years ever 2004 in Belgium. My plan was "Stay up and celebrate both new years" as the English one starts at eleven CET time, and the european one an hour after. Being continential relatives I had to endure "delicasies" such as camebert* and roquefort**. I don't know what is the appeal to camebert as it smells like it's been fermented up a dying mans arse but I was forced to eat some, and I washed it down with two glasses of red wine. Then I had some roque fort, normally I like that cheese, but this one I could tell was off (No idea how, at the time I thought roque fort couldn't go off, as it was off). Queue another five or six different red wines (they were all very nice, despite being far too dry for my tastes) and then cuban cigars. What the hell? I like smoking, and there like fags but wrapped in tobacco leaves. Wrong. There like tobaccos that's been fermenting in the same dying mans arse after he's shat out the camebert. I also didn't know your supposed to "enjoy the taste" and not breathe in as much as possible without gagging and then blow smoke rings out of your nose (It's impossible, but I at least tried!).

This dinner occured about seven. New years was still six hours away at least. Queue drinking awful white whiskey, then other spirits I don't remember, then going down to the cellar to get more booze. In France and Belgium in quite a lot of houses iv'e seen there's wine cellars to keep the wine at the correct temperature. What did I spot as soon as turning on the light? None less than an entire shelf of every spirit I could name, and some I didn't know, and A 40 CRATE OF HOEGAARDEN. My most favorite beer ever and there it was, a 40 crate. I spent about half an hour there, taking a swig of each spirit, and guzzling the litre bottle of baileys I went back up with half a dozen bottles of beer for everyone. Turns out there was only the three of us there (Dad, me, Cuban cigar uncle in law). Both of them headed up to bed, despite my protestations of "It's not midnight yet."

Then the really cool thing happened. I decided to see how much I could drink without passing out. Maybe it was the fungus/other shite in the cheese, but I could physically see my limit in the beer bottles. It was the fourth one. I downed three bottles, and looked at the fourth one. I growled at it, bit it's head off and drunk it, remembering to spit the cap out. Then I remember reaching for the fifth, sipping it to prove "I can go past my limit!" and then putting it down. The bog was about ten yards away, so I started crawling towards it thinking "I'll probably need to go pee soon". Then everything went black.

I woke up four hours later (2:00am CET) hearing the sounds of something coughing, and feeling my face getting wetter. It was dark, the telly was off and I was really curious to see who was making the coughing noise. I eventually figured out it was me, and I wasn't coughing. Somehow in my drunken state I managed to collapse with my head facing away from the really expensive persian rug. About five minutes later? However long it takes to chuck up a bellyful of food, cheese, wine and every spirit known to man (no absinthe or brake fluid. That was another story). In the darkness I saw red liquid coming out of my mouth. If I was sober I would have turned on the light and looked to see if it were wine or blood. I sniffed it and ended up choking out a few more bits of vom that were in my nose. I certainly waasn't willing to taste it. I took my jumper off and started crawling to bed, thinking to myself "Well, my tummy doesn't feel bad, and if I am bleeding there's nothing anyone can do now." Woke up next day and heard my grandad laughing as he was clearing up my vom, more than a buckets worth apparently, and a big light patch where my acid/enzyme/alcohol mixture had melted though the thick coating of varnish. I just looked horrified, thinking that stuff could have been in my body.

Morale of this story? I learnt that my limit is quite a lot, and would be more if it wern't for stinky cheese.

*:I don't apologise to the French Cheese industry, at least do what brie does and vacume pack your white shit.

**:I will never understand the appeal in eating fungus infested foods.
(Mon 23rd Aug 2004, 13:52, More)