b3ta.com user Rilux
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for Rilux:
Profile Info:


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Vomit Pt2

Combined with the shits
A couple of years ago I was off snowboarding with my bro. Unbeknownst to me I was carrying the norovirus. It struck on the Saturday night when I started to feel rather queasy. So, rather than head out and get drunk I opted to stay in the chalet. Nice and social. Good thing too because when it hits it hits hard and takes no prisoners.

The force at which your body expels the contents of your stomache is really quite breathtaking. I don't think I'd ever seen projectile vomitting before yet here I was doing it straight into the toilet. And don't think that just because there is nothing left in the tank that that's the end of it. The only thing more painful than projectile vomming you stomache out is projectile vomming nothing at all. The force was enough to burst several blood vessels around my eyes making me look like I'd been in a fight. And the muscles around your ribs take an utter pounding.

Unfortunately, the norovirus is a two-for-one deal and with the vomming comes the shits. When you're not doubled over the rim you're shitting endless amounts of rusty water. And don't even think about farting. That's a gamble you won't win. Fortunately, it's over withing 48 hours. You stay contageous for another couple of days. In the end half the chalet had it and a quaranteened toilet for the infected was imposed.

I wish this story had a happy ending but my guts were not the same for the rest of the week. At one point instead of hooning through Les Arcs best off piste I was enthroned for 40 minutes, softly sobbing to myself while my sorry and sore arse cried rivers of brown sadness.

Still, at least the vomiting was over.
(Thu 7th Jan 2010, 20:01, More)

» Foot in Mouth Syndrome II

No idea where this came from
I was down in Brighton, just having a good night out. I was on the seafront enjoying a pavement dinner when a group of Irish lads asked approached.

"'Scuse me, mate. Where's a good place to go out round here?" the lead asked
"Well, the best clubs are under the arches on the beach. The cheap slags are up West Street, but the chances of a beating are increased exponentially." I reply.
"We're up for it, no bother there." he says.
"But if you wanted to blow up the Grand Hotel, it's just down there." says I.

It's a good thing they found it funny. I have no idea where it came from.
(Fri 17th Aug 2012, 22:19, More)

» Clubs, gangs, and societies

I have about a week left on my Scottish Malt Whisky Society membership. As far as I'm aware there are no rituals apart from sitting around drinking copious amount of cask strength whisky.

I'd visit with a friend and we'd read out the preposterous tasting notes in the most pompous voice we could, then choose a whisky whose tasting notes mentioned leather.

I've had many a happy evening there. I never smelt or tasted leather.
(Thu 21st Jun 2012, 21:01, More)

» Pure Fury

Maybe she was having a bad day
A few months ago I was waiting for the tram and had rather a disturbing incident with a mental at the stop. It started with her asking if had let Jesus into my life. I replied I hadn't and had absolutely no plan to do so and could she perhaps leave me alone. This angered her. A lot.

Apparently I was a bitch, a slut and a fag; and I was going to burn in Hell. She practically screamed at me that everyone knew what I am and what I did. I was a dead man. I was stalking her. I was off to Centrelink to wait until it opens (the insinuation to you non-Aussie-living-types being that I'm on benefits. Given my legal status I can only contribute to the economy here). She angrily demanded to know where her money was. When I told her I really couldn't help she told me I thought I was royalty and better than her (due to the English accent).

Thankfully the tram arrived and I escaped. I smiled and waved as we pulled away. She gave me the finger.
(Sat 28th Sep 2013, 4:32, More)

» I don't understand the attraction

Personalised number plates
I was recently party to a conversation where some friends were discussing which personalised registration would look best on his new BMW. I think they are a completely waste of money and just show the owner to have more ego than sense.

Edit: fixed some poor grammar. Always proofread.
(Thu 15th Oct 2009, 15:52, More)
[read all their answers]