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» My Worst Vomit
On my dad
I have this really horrible asthmatic cough that rears its head whenever I catch a cold. Sometimes es that cough will cause me to puke. Not always, but every now and then.
When I was about six, I was lying in my bed, tossing and turning in the middle of the night, unable to fall asleep because I was coughing. I just couldn’t stop coughing, no matter what. I was sweating and I was red-faced and my little body was heaving from the coughing. I decide that perhaps I need a drink of water, to soothe my throat and all.
I get up. I am still coughing, making that awful honky sound. As I approach my door, my father thunders in, because he can hear that I am not doing well at all.
At that exact moment, I cough so hard that vomit surges up my esophagus. I purse my lips as tightly as possible, so the vomit doesn’t escape.
My father makes the horribly bad decision to pick me up – and starts demanding that I tell him what’s wrong.
“Em, are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me! What’s the problem?” He kept asking me to talk, so I think, maybe I can talk without puking all over my father’s shoulder.
Wrong.
I cover my father’s body with vomit, my father who is only wearing his underpants. My father who is now as red-faced as I am and dripping in my puke.
My mother chooses that moment to come in. Despite the seriousness of the whole event, all of us burst into laughter. Including my father.
Apologies for length.
(yay, first post ever)
(Tue 24th Aug 2004, 15:17, More)
On my dad
I have this really horrible asthmatic cough that rears its head whenever I catch a cold. Sometimes es that cough will cause me to puke. Not always, but every now and then.
When I was about six, I was lying in my bed, tossing and turning in the middle of the night, unable to fall asleep because I was coughing. I just couldn’t stop coughing, no matter what. I was sweating and I was red-faced and my little body was heaving from the coughing. I decide that perhaps I need a drink of water, to soothe my throat and all.
I get up. I am still coughing, making that awful honky sound. As I approach my door, my father thunders in, because he can hear that I am not doing well at all.
At that exact moment, I cough so hard that vomit surges up my esophagus. I purse my lips as tightly as possible, so the vomit doesn’t escape.
My father makes the horribly bad decision to pick me up – and starts demanding that I tell him what’s wrong.
“Em, are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me! What’s the problem?” He kept asking me to talk, so I think, maybe I can talk without puking all over my father’s shoulder.
Wrong.
I cover my father’s body with vomit, my father who is only wearing his underpants. My father who is now as red-faced as I am and dripping in my puke.
My mother chooses that moment to come in. Despite the seriousness of the whole event, all of us burst into laughter. Including my father.
Apologies for length.
(yay, first post ever)
(Tue 24th Aug 2004, 15:17, More)
» Scary Neighbours
darling people, really
my neighbor is a 45 yr. old living with his parents. he's in a band and performs for bar mitzvahs. he's the drummer, but practices his (horrible) singing very late at night with the windows open (music of choice - bob marley and elvis presley). he has a greying jew-fro and likes to go outside wearing nothing but biker shorts, which are sadly forced to stretch over his widening waistline.
his mother is a delightful woman - she enjoys rollerdisco classes (rollerskating plus 70s music) and wearing ridiculously flamboyant feathery red outfits to funerals, and making her presence known when she arrives home by honking the horn several times, no matter what time of day or night. the whole family likes to yell at each other from windows.
we call them 'the loud family'.
(Wed 31st Aug 2005, 4:22, More)
darling people, really
my neighbor is a 45 yr. old living with his parents. he's in a band and performs for bar mitzvahs. he's the drummer, but practices his (horrible) singing very late at night with the windows open (music of choice - bob marley and elvis presley). he has a greying jew-fro and likes to go outside wearing nothing but biker shorts, which are sadly forced to stretch over his widening waistline.
his mother is a delightful woman - she enjoys rollerdisco classes (rollerskating plus 70s music) and wearing ridiculously flamboyant feathery red outfits to funerals, and making her presence known when she arrives home by honking the horn several times, no matter what time of day or night. the whole family likes to yell at each other from windows.
we call them 'the loud family'.
(Wed 31st Aug 2005, 4:22, More)
» It was a great holiday, but...
air conditioning?
a few summers ago, my family flew from new york to denver, so we could do this big road trip. we would drive from denver to vegas, then through some national parks and such, and end up in los angeles.
we get to the outskirts of vegas.
air conditioning in car breaks.
temperature outside? 110 degrees fahrenheit.
the start to a lovely, sweltering vacation.
(Fri 22nd Apr 2005, 2:42, More)
air conditioning?
a few summers ago, my family flew from new york to denver, so we could do this big road trip. we would drive from denver to vegas, then through some national parks and such, and end up in los angeles.
we get to the outskirts of vegas.
air conditioning in car breaks.
temperature outside? 110 degrees fahrenheit.
the start to a lovely, sweltering vacation.
(Fri 22nd Apr 2005, 2:42, More)
» Little things that turn you on
really soft hair on
silly, dorky boys.
(Thu 17th Feb 2005, 23:08, More)
really soft hair on
silly, dorky boys.
(Thu 17th Feb 2005, 23:08, More)