I have three nominees I'd like to submit.
1. I'm not much of drinker and never have been (uh-oh)...well this one night Waldo somehow got me to have a shot of Peppermint Schnapps (uh-oh) and another. And another. And then we went over to Kareens house and I drank a pint(?) or more of the same. Have you ever drank Peppermint Schnapps? It's like 60 proof liquid candy. So anyhow while on the way home and trying to impress the woman I was with I said "Could you please pull over for a second" That 'second' turned into about 20 minutes of me vomiting all over the streets of SmallTown USA. Did I impress that woman? You bet. She married me. (even just a smell of Peppermint Schnapps 26 years later makes me hurl)
2. I decided I'd have a 'special father/daughter day' with my youngest when she was about 6 years old. I took her to this old amusement park (uh-oh) called Whalom Park. Wooded roller coasters, Tilt-a-Whirls (uh-oh), the Octopus (uh-oh), fried dough (uh-oh), numerous hot-dogs (uh-oh), and sweltering humidity (uh-oh)...needless to say I'm feeling a bit queasy and don't really feel like going on any more rides when Youngest points to these lame swings that go around in a slow gentle circle....but they're way up high (uh-oh)...so we get on and the more it goes around the more I know its bye-bye fried dough, see ya later Mr. Oscar Meyer and family. So I signal to the ride operator to STOP THE RIDE! (I think I yelled "STOP THE RIDE") and he did.
I staggered off the ride and told Youngest to follow me to the bathroom.....and then the most massive explosion of vomit ever flew from my mouth...must have gone 10 yards! It put the PRO in Projectile Vomiting. And Youngest just started laughing and laughing at me. She still laughs at me. Vomit is always funny.
3. Though not as good as the above, me and Waldo were once at Rocky Point Park in Rhode Island trying to impress two girls with our skills at riding carnival rides....after what seemed like an hour of being spun and hurled through space we got off and both ran to the mens room to...you know....wash our hands and comb our hair. Did we impress the girls? I sure did. I married one of them.
Moral of the story?
Chicks no matter how old just love vomit. Or me vomiting. Or maybe just my wife and daughter love vomit.
Do you have any vomit stories worthy of the Hall of Fame?