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?
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
36 comments:
Because Cake is a bad person, I'm assuming that a giant-sized box of half-melted York Peppermint Patties (with airholes) is winging its way toward you even as I type this.
-- Lamont Cranston
No time for a lot of details, but let's just say that vodka and Cumberland Farms fruit punch is not a good combination...
Hey! Lamont and I posted at the same time!
Jinx! You owe me chips!
Early teen years. Two LARGE glasses of grape soda quickly chugged before one hour long car ride to grandma's. Reading in the car.
Start to feel queezy. Tell dad to pull over (he never listens to me). He didn't pull over. I placed my hand over my mouth, but we all know that doesn't work...That just makes grape vomit spray all over everyone in the car.
He sure pulled over then!
I don't think we have ever had grape soda at my parent's house since then.
(p.s. Nobody was laughing in my story.)
I attended Catholic grammar school (and high school, and college -- but that's a whole other story), which meant we were forced to go to mass on First Friday.
Going to mass on First Friday always meant a shortened lunch period -- and by "shortened," I mean "cram everything in your brown bag down your gullet in less than 10 minutes." I've always been a slow eater, so this was a huge challenge for me. So anyway, this one particular Friday, my mom had included a ginormous piece of German chocolate cake in my lunch. There was no way in hell I wasn't eating that, so I consumed the entire thing in about 30 seconds, just in time to file up to the church.
Fast-forward about 15 minutes, just after the priest had blanketed the entire place with that foul-smelling incense. We're all kneeling at the time, and I start to feel a little queasy (uh-oh). Let's just say I also tried the "cover-your-mouth" maneuver and failed miserably. Fortunately, the pew in front of me took the brunt of the abuse.
Dear Lamont:
Why would I send chocolate when I could just soak a bunch of rags in peppermint schnapps and then seal them up really tight in a box marked "FREE FRITOS!"
Dear everyone else:
I think the time I came within seconds of throwing up scrambled eggs and hashbrowns all over a priest is my favorite vomit story.
Bless me, father, I have sinned...
I was at a funeral for one of the firemen killed on 9/11 and I vomited into his coffin.
Then there was the time I was returning from Hawaii. We'd just settled into our seats on the LA-to-Boston segment, and noticed a small group of rather inebriated guys boarding after us. One of them could barely walk (uh-oh).
Not too long after said drunk sat down, he hurled -- managing to clear the seat back and hit the poor, unassuming man in front of him directly on the head.
i was at six flags with bacon ace and my cousin kelly. she was not feeling very well while we were standing in line on the stairs for the superman roller coaster. she lets loose a combination of mountain dew and watermelon over the railing and it ricochet's off the wall onto the legs and feet of the girl in line behind us. she doesn't get mad, but her boyfriend does. he he.
i'm such a douchebag that i puked on the prime minister of japan
How about the time I was at work, reading a blog about vomiting and I started to feel kinda queasy...and then a co-worker came in and offered me some candy and I threw up all over her shoes...
Oh, right, that hasn't happened.
Yet.
I vomited frogs
"Did we impress the girls? I sure did. I married one of them.
Moral of the story?"
Moral? That your wife is either very tolerant, or gross stuff turns her on.
I feel like I just learned waaaaay too much about NoOprah's home life...
With turnabout being fair play...
In college I was with a girl driving home from a party. She asked me to pull over so she could "spit", and proceeded to (to her credit) vomit in a very discreet and feminine way (if that's possible). That girl is now Ms bacon ace.
Moral of the story? I also am either tolerant, or turned on by gross things.
Barfing in a Casino gets you into Vomit Hall Of Fame on the first ballot.
Nicely done.
1. This blog is making me queasy.
2. I totally love that Mrs. Bacon Ace identifies herself as "Mrs. Bacon Ace."
3. Ever notice that vomiting makes people look like Walter Matthau?
I know a female someone (let's call her "Bodger") who got completely smashed on India Pale Ale and then threw up copiously in the men's bathroom...serenading the guy in the next stall (who also possibly got some spray on his shoes).
Heh, heh.
Did you know that Mrs Bacon Ace makes me cookies at Christmas Time?
Mmmmmmmm . . . sugar wrapped in bacon!
Sugar frosted batter dipped bacon....
...taped to a cat.
When I sprayed grape vomit over my family, while stuck in the car, I hit FIVE PEOPLE in one shot! Come on...tell me that's not a first ballot hall of famer...
Did I mention there was no way for these people to clean themselves off for another half an hour?
Yer in.
I'd very much like to know if the following story is first-ballot worthy... but I need to protect the overindulgent.
So let me not take credit for it, or admit guilt, but rather tell it in the third person and give those who know me plausible deniability.
Tequila is an evil liquor. Unlike, say, vodka or whisky, which will do to you what you allow them, tequila is intelligent, and evil. It also has an extremely vile sense of humor.
In this story, our protagonist's department was given a half-day, and the entire staff adjourned to a local Mexican restaurant, where several pitchers of margaritas were consumed, along with the occasional tortilla chip.
During the course of this indulgence, our protagonist engaged (for a quarter) the services of an attorney who had joined up with the group. To earn this two bits, the attorney was retained to call the protagonist's then-girlfriend and describe certain oral favors our protagonist was looking to visit upon her that evening.
(Then-girlfriend's response to attorney was along the lines of "based on how plastered the two of you sound, I suspect that's the only sort of favors he's going to be good for tonight.")
That evening -- not too long after the final margaritas were consumed -- our protagonist attempted to fulfill his legal obligation.
Midway through, his stomach clenched. Violently.
Our protagonist did, in fact, make it to the bathroom. And he and then-girlfriend actually made it to their previously designated plans, although there was no further attempt at that particular round of oral favors.
Now, without naming names or admitting veracity, might this be a first-ballot HoF incident?
-- Lamont Cranston
Oh, and our protagonist did NOT end up marrying then-girlfriend, although I'm pretty sure this incident had no bearing on that result.
-- Lamont Cranston
You're in. And just for using the word 'protagonist'
During long car-rides my mom thought that eating ritz crackers would help settle my stomach...instead they always induced power puking! The smell of vomit and ritz crackers...lovely! Ask my sister, she'll agree...I may have got her a few times. heehee
To this day, the mere thought of them makes me sick.
Oh my gawd, just thinking about it...I swear I can smell 'em right now.
Oh my GAWD!
::covers mouth and runs for the bathroom::
You and Roger are brother and sister???
I don't have any fun vomit stories (Stomache of Steel!). Last time I threw up was after an evening with nooprah & T-we ate some calamari-and when I got home I had a little private pukefest-tatally boring. I didn't sray anyone, there was no "projectile" involved...just your Standard Issue Vomit Session.
Stupid Squid-made me sick but NOT a contender for the Hall of Fame.
Although I did have a student once, who, after a healthy breakfast which included several shots of Jack Daniels, stumble into my classroom at around 8 A.M.
Before I could finish the sentence "Are you okay?" he just let loose. All the kids around him just jumped up and scrambled towards safety-it was a Vomit Columbine moment.
I'm not sure if he every married the girl he was trying to impress.
And sorry about all of spelling errors nooprah-they make me want to vomit too.
My vommit story tops them all! If you recall, I died in "a pool of vommit!" It still bothers me today, that someone would fill a pool with vommit. I win!
Mr Hendrix,
That was great, but is anyone still looking this far back? Uh...besides me I mean.
Many many many years ago, I attended a BYOB Christmas party. My bottle? Captain Morgan Dark- my favourite for many years.
I didn't realise the party was going to be largely attended by Canada's equivalent of the Young Republicans. As we all know, those types are all closet Carrie Nations, and their idea of "drinking" is to sip a half-can of Genessee and wander around talking about how tipsy they are.
So I drank my quart all by myself.
Feeling a little unwell, I headed off to the bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror, and puked.
Gentleman that I am, I cleaned up the mess.
Ran into my hostess a few months later. She told me it turns out I'd created the highlight of the party. EVERYONE had to see what a wonderful job I'd done cleaning that mirror. Not a spot or a smudge on it.
Everyone had to marvel at how meticulous I could me about the mirror, and not notice that I'd also covered the wall around it.
Post a Comment