One new years day I was really hung over and me and my sister were driving back from Sydney. We were on the freeway heading towards Bankstown and I couldn't hold it in any longer so I stuck my head out the window and blew massive chunks. Part of it hit the car behind us, and it slowed down and put its window wipers on. The rest blew back in the car and covered everything with OJ and bile. My sister started retching from the stench. Then we had to pay a toll at the toll booth and while my sister was trying to find change I was vomiting out the window. We pulled into a servo in Blackttown and I changed clothes and used one of those window wiper things to scrape spew out of the car. The next person using it to clean their winscreen would have been in for a suprise, lol.
Share your favourite vom/spew story here.
you really like vomit stories don't you los?
all class.
I was at a rave on Christmas night one night, got stuck into the smacky googs and some crystal pretty hard, but I had a belly full of christmas lunch.
So needless to say I was gurning my guts off, and I decided to take a breather in the chill room. I started getting these full body rushes and I had to do deep breathing exercises to try to keep it down. Some well-meaning fellow galactic traveler came up to me to ask if I was alright, and for some reason I decided it was safe to talk. I had time to bring my hand up to my mouth in an attempt to stop of four half-digested serves of turkey, ham, stuffing, gravy, potatoes, greens, beer and pudding from cascading all over this poor innocent raver.
But unfortunately the hand only acted as to spray the volume of munt over a wider area, absolutely coating this poor fellow from head to toe.
Share your favourite vom/spew story here.
delete this site and start again.
Newly arrived in New York with my friend, his girlfriend and his sister, and shocked by priciness, we were lured into a Brooklyn bar by the promise of $4 margaritas. A round was purchased, and after careful consideration we agreed that they were both tasty, and very strong. They were also served in pint glasses.
Being four people, we did a round of these and felt like kings before heading to another bar. Drinking continued, but it was definitely the margaritas that did the damage.
So we hopped in a cab somewhere in Brooklyn to get back to out place in Harlem. This took a long time, and we ended up in some awful traffic jam on some highway at about 4am. Both the girls were spewing out their respective windows, with many, many onlookers in nearby cars. We were pretty sure the cab driver had no idea they were spewing. But then we woke up the next day and realised he must have, he was just chill about it.
Then there was the time I fell asleep with my head outside so I wouldn't spew in the tent. There was a pile of cous cous next to my head, but I hadn't eaten any the night before. My stomach had made it out of sausages and bread!
favourites thread
This is an incredibly long story of vomit, urine and lost friendships.
At Bluesfest in 2007 some friends and I were doing jager bombs in the car park of the Rails before realising we were running out of Red Bull, so began diluting the Red Bull with vodka to make them last further. Thus the atomic jager bomb was created.
At Bluesfest 2008 there was a gap between bands giving us about two hours to kill before the next big name, so we went back to camp and resurrected the atomic jager bomb. Except this time, we were extra wary of a recent Current Affair news piece which outlined the dangers of Taurine...so we diluted the receptacle with vodka and southern comfort, and thus the atomic jager bomb was strengthened.
After about an hour between four people (and the odd special guest bombee) we'd realised we'd polished off two bottles of jager, a bottle of southern and a bottle of vodka. It was a very, very stupid thing to do. The next few hours involved general idiocy which at some stage involved one of us tripping over a tent rope, falling into some guy's tent, instigating a stacks on, and the subsequent crushing of the tent's poles. The tent in question belonged to a friend of a friend who was pretty stand offish most of the weekend, but was very angry by the destruction of his tent. As it turned out, we had a spare and he was happy to move his stuff in there and sleep there the next couple of nights. The spare tent will become important later.
We then moved on to the festival where we were refused entry by security, and due to the subsequent unruliness, had the police called on us. Somehow, we got away and entered through the vehicle access...we got split up and a friend and I were alone. On walking to the main tent we both tripped over one of the big top ropes, clashed heads and, according to a bystander, were unconscious for 10 minutes. He woke us up and I ran off to see whoever was headlining that night.
Whilst slumped against a bin in the Big Top, coming in and out of sleep to vomit, I decided it was probably time to head back to camp. The guy who I was unconscious with somehow ended up in Byron Bay with Mel Bampton's phone number...he still doesn't know how that happened...but that's another story I guess.
So on the way back to camp I went through a bush due to an overwhelming need to pee. As I was about to remove the required instrument for said bodily function, I was overcome with an overwhelming need to vomit. On wretching to vomit, the two aforementioned bodily functions refused to remain independent of each other, and I then proceeded to vom/pee my pants. It was an embarrassing moment and I don't want to talk about it.
Anyway, the campsite was empty when I arrived back, so I thought I'd nud up, wash down my pants with a bit of water and hang them up to dry. I didn't want the pee smell to be right in where everyone was eating and hanging out, so I went over to the spare tent we had for storage and hung them up from the tent's ceiling.
The next morning was 37 degrees by about 9 AM, so those pants were pretty steamy...and I hadn't done a really good washing job, and there was a pretty significant amount of bodily fluids on those pants...and that friend of a friend woke up to the concentrated smell of heated urine and, hungover and queezy enough as it was, vomited in turn.
I have not spoken to him since. At one stage he demanded I replace his tent, and when I found some spare poles for him he said not to worry cos it was a crappy $60 tent anyway.
We still occasionally dabble in the odd atomic jager bomb, but are quite wary about the consequences.
Billy went on to be a lawyer for a small firm in Dakota, achieving minor fame for his successful defense of an accused shoplifter.
Johnny married Beth at 26 and two beautiful daughters. One was mute.
I have not peed my pants since.
I started a day of the Bendigo races by having shots of Bundy and Vodka, in the same shot glass. This was followed by copious amounts of smuggled tinnies at the races, and Vodka in a watermelon.
Got home, passed out-ish and apparently i was on the verge of spewing. Some friends took me into the communal bathroom and placed me at the shower recess. I spewed lots of hawaiian pizza into that shower, blocking it. Friends turned on the shower to wash it away. I still spewed. They got bored, and went into the kitchen. My spew blocked the sink, water started rising, and i passed out into the murky depths, face down. Friends grabbed me 30 seconds later.
I didn't do too well at uni the next year. Might have moderate brain injury.
Meh.
Haha! How clever do stomach's get at festivals! 'Stop eating that shit, have some cous cous.'
At the inaugural Golden Plains I drank several jugs of Moscow Mules and then had a couple of Melbourne cans for a chaser. I sat on an esky eating a cob of corn when I ran into theneworphan. He gave me some strange smelling cigarettes and I trusted him, so I smoked them. I woke up five hours later in a tent that absolutely fucking reeked, and peered out the tent flap to find the biggest spew I have ever seen in my life. It mainly looked like porridge. Porridge with corn in it.
Then I thought ''fuckit'', pulled my jeans on and went out again.
To this day I have accused theneworphan of trying to kill me, but upon mature reflection, I concede that my own actions may have influenced this series of unfortunate events.
this thread is not fun
Me and me three besties, as teens circa the 14-17 age range or thereabouts, used to spend our evenings in Mordialloc. We would get dinner, buy alcohol, and then go down to the pier to drink and meet boys.
One evening we had charcoal chicken in it before our drinking session. Later at the pier we were talking shit about stuff that is always in vomit (i.e. corn, carrot chunks) regardless of what you have been eating recently. We tried to remember whether my friend's rice salad had corn in it, but couldn't remember.
Later that night, we went to the video store to chat to a friend who worked there. Whilst there, my friend vomited beside a park bench.
The next morning, as we were walking to the supermarket, my friend stops dead next to the bench, points to her pile of vomit and exclaims ''hey, it DID have corn in it!''
My second favourite was on the way home from Golden Plains this year, we stopped at the servo at Little River, and since I hadn't vomited for an hour I thought it was safe to try and keep down a drink. I requested a pink grapefruit soft drink to be brought to me. There wasn't any, so my bestie brought me a Burgundee Creamy Soda, which is a deep, deep red colour.
I proceeded to vomit it straight up all over the ground, bright red vomit, but the old Italian woman walking past my car just continued walking within centimetres of my bright red vomit, totally nonplussed by what was going on.
Many years ago I worked the ''jewelry booth'' at target Bourke st. This mostly consisted of verbally intimidating junkies who would frequent the area to steal watches and sell opals to the odd Japanese tourist. I rolled in on a Sunday feeling shabby but alright. Some time later I got an overwhelming and sudden urge to Vom. It emerged silently and straight onto the carpet with a bit on my hand. Immediately a customer sought help with some ugly opal jewelry. As I had no time to clean up, I processed a record sale for the booth using just one hand whilst hopping over the massive tiger on the floor.
I have many vomit stories! Here are 2!
I have sketchy memories of the first time I had cookies with my first boyfriend, quickly eating 5 and soon becoming the dizziest I have ever felt in my life. We had a chillout CD playing that was stuck on repeat, I lay on the ground watching everything spinning right round like a record and looking over at my boyfriend when I could stand it, and noting that he would be vomiting into the fruit bowl. As the same song passed by on the CD ''just be good to me'' I would note the vomit rising in the bowl with my half-dazed fascination. ''Don't fall asleep!'' I would say to him, half afraid that he would collapse with his head in the bowl Hendrix-style, but also too stoned to do anything about it. He survived. We broke up.
Projectile vomiting: I can't believe that it can actually happen. At Golden Plains 2008 during Sharon Jones' performance, I ran from the crowd toward the roti stall. I'd had a few pink flamingos, sure. It was night, I was thinking 'should I look for the ambo people?' and I opened my mouth and before I realised what was happening, vomit was shooting horizontal. It was like some lame American movie that I was starring in suddenly. ONE other person saw me, this guy, and he and I shared this look of wow. that just really did happen before I ran away and went to the cinema or something.
Ha! Jeebee that second one is the goods.
At a friends house drinking another friend goes out the back of the house to vomit after too many brews, comes back in and goes to bed. The next morning apologizes to the owner for spewing on the picket fence and says he will clean it up. owner becomes confused because there isn't a picket fence around the house. he assures me that he went into the back yard and held onto the fence and spewed all over it. we then decide to investigate the spew spot, we get taken up to the back corner of the yard where there is a goat tied up with vomit all over its head and back.
When I was 16 I lived in Germany and I drank a lot because my parents weren't around to stop me, also it was legal. One night my American exchange student friend and I bought a bottle of rum and a bottle of red wine (it was a compromise) and went a'drinking in the street. We climbed over a half built bridge and ran around alot before meeting up with some punk friends of mine and smoked bongs in an alleyway.
After we'd been to the toilet inside a construction site (note: not actual toilet) we went back to my house. The second I sat down on my bed my head started spinning and my stomach lurched, I sat up and said something to the effect of ''I believe I'm about to vomit''. My friend frantically searched the room for something for me to vom in and found a large milo tin (empty) but couldn't get the lid off because you need a spoon to do that, instead she found a half empty can of peanuts and thrust it at me shouting ''PEANUT CAN!''. I had a vom and it overflowed into my hands.
It was also bright purple because I'd been eating doner beforehand which contains red cabbage.
I like this. I think I'll call vom a tiger from now on.
First year uni I went to a Science faculty awards lunch with a mate. My mate was pretty straight down the line and didnt usually drink much but on that afternoon the alcohol was free and it seemed like a good day to get on it. Not being a science student I had no one to impress so got pretty trashed. My mate however really went for it and was completely smashed after about 1/2 hr. 4 hours after that we decided it was probably time to head down to the 'Caf' and get dinner.
Anyway, we lined up and had been waiting for a bit when my mate decided he didnt feel to well. Just as we got to the front of the line and walked into the kitchen area where the bain marrie was he took one look at the food and vomited a red wine coloured slush all over the window. Probably the biggest spew Ive ever seen in my life!
After he was finished he just kept walking through the out door of the kitchen, put his hands in the air in triumph and appreciation to the round of applause he was receiving from the rest of the hall, walked out the front door and put himself to bed leaving me to clean it up.
He did not believe me when I told him 6 hours later what he had done. Had absolutely no memory of it at all. Before that day he was pretty much unknown on campus. After that he was pretty much a legend...
I'm really sensitive to drugs (including alcohol), and when I first started going out, around 2002, there were a shitload of great pills around. One of my friends used to deal, so we always used to get the best stuff going around. One such story from my overindulgence days was being at some rave. Normally I took a half, and that got me pretty wasted, but for some reason I was feeling adventurous and insisted on taking a whole, despite my friends' warnings. Took the whole, then about ten minutes later it hit me, HARD. We were all gurning our faces off, but I think I was the most wasted off drugs I've ever been in my life. I was sitting on the side of the dancefloor, my eyes basically rolling back into my head, and seeing bright rainbows running over my eyes, and getting crazy full body rushes like I haven't experienced since. Suddenly, ohshitimgonnaspew. Came outta nowhere. I push through the dancefloor, and make it about half way to the bathroom when the first wave of spew explodes. I put my hand in front, and somehow managed to only let a little bit out, and most of it remained in my mouth. People saw and moved out of the way, giving me a clear run to the bathroom. So I BOLT there, my tshirt partly spattered with spew, my mouth full of spew, and both the stalls are taken, and I feel the second wave coming. FUCK! So I just let rip into the urinal or something, I can't even remember. Cleaned myself up to the best of my ability and went back out with my t-shirt covered in spew.
By some fucking MIRACLE, my friend had decided to wear two t-shirts that night (??), so sheepishly I explain the story, I throw out my tshirt into the toilet bin, put his on, and danced, feeling intense gratification that I was actually NOT covered in spew and forced to go home (or kicked out! no bouncer saw luckily), mixed with feeling deep shame. If you've spewed on good MDMA before, you'll know what I mean that it makes you feel kinda guilty, because suddenly you are pulled out of the high, and you realise that you just spewed on yourself like a hobo, and the intense emotional aspect of MDMA makes you worry that you've ruined everyone's night or something.
Went back to halves after that.
too sheepish to recount an event of my own just now but i can probably tell one of someone else's....
so a few years ago i'm at meredith with my boyfriend at the time. it's sunday and we've had a pretty big one having taken acid the night before and slept very little. the gift is imminent and the boyfriend has his heart set on competing. he goes off to register while back at our campsite i'm trying to hold my brain together as the sun beats down, unemcumbered by cloud cover. he comes back and we filter through our belongings looking for more booze so he may prepare to race in the gift in the spirit of the weekend -- as trashed as possible. we discover what we have left is a half a goon bag of white wine. i'm not game to go anywhere near it but he knocks it back in a few short minutes. he strips down and we head into the amphi. the gift is run and he does fairly well but doesn't win (though that's not what the gift is about really, is it). we're all a bit sunburnt and fragile so after the show finishes up we head back to the campsite. he seems a little dazed, which is fairly appropriate given how hot it is, how dehydrated he must be, and how much cheap alcohol he consumed shortly before entering a footrace. we walk back to the campsite and he stops just by the car, hunches over with hands on knees, and pukes up a few litres of liquid. i guess it sticks in my mind because the visual of the incident was so striking -- a tall lanky sunburnt dude, completely naked except for a pair of army boots, bowed over a puddle of half a goon bag's worth of white wine he had consumed not half an hour earlier.
Its not my favourite but fresh in my mind....
last night when I was sleeping my girlfriend came home heaps pissed fell asleep sometime later she started throwing up on me in her sleep/drunkenness
I tried to wake her up she asked why the hell was I waking her, and told me to shut up and go back to sleep......then passed back out.
I cleaned myself up and around her.
In the morning she was all good morning beautiful
maybe its her favourite spew story
NYE in NYC for '09/10 whereby I went to a stranger's party in Brooklyn and drank far, far too much red stripe beer and the free gin on offer. Though my real bad decision lay in the couple of puffs of a joint I had shortly after of what was probably very good and strong bud. Not five minutes later I felt incredibly ill and started walking around the nearby streets trying to vomit between parked cars so I could continue to enjoy the night, but it didn't want to come to a head. I felt so ill that I decided to hop in a cab back to Chelsea where I was staying in a hotel room by myself (I had to book it last minute and nothing else was available), and started experiencing extreme tunnel vision as the cab was going across the Williamsburg bridge. I asked the driver if he could pull over anywhere but as it was the middle of a bridge there wasn't anywhere - so I opened the door slightly and puked, and the driver kept driving, and I puked periodically all the way back to Chelsea (opening the door each time) where I got back to my hotel room and kept puking for what felt like a couple of hours though was probably just one. I remember feeling really worried that I was all by myself in a new place with really horrible alcohol poisoning and wondering if I should call a somebody and ask for help, but it turned out okay. Then I had to get on a plane at 9am on New Year's Day to go to Canada and I very nearly missed that flight. Good times.
Another time, longer ago, I got very drunk very quickly at a house warming and to save myself puking in public got in a cab home where the same tunnel vision happened, and not 3 blocks from my house puked, aiming for the open window but got the corner (was in the backseat), and I was so worried that the cab driver would make me pay the cab clean up fee (that I could not afford) that I took my canvas bag and wiped the puke away, puked into my canvas bag, threw money at the cab driver and ran out.
I have many more stories, but most end in my bathroom. I think they're the only public vomits I've had.
I'm not a puker (sometimes wish I was, it relieves nausea like little else) but I have a few good puke stories about others....
My cousin is a crazy sonambulist. Everything he does in his waking life he's proven himself capable of doing while asleep. both my parents and his used to live in the dandenongs, and the road is a bit windy in places. I've never been bothered by this, but my cousin used to get car sick. me, him and his brother were in the back seat, mum and my aunt in the front. It was a teeny tiny car, and we were squished in there like sardines. We were a bit worried about my cousin and his carsickness but james was fast asleep, so we thought all was good and well. All of a sudden, with no notice (cos he was asleep) james' eyes fly open, he opens his mouth really wide and the hugest jet of spew is projected towards the front seat. He was sitting in the middle so the path of vomit was unobstructed. He projectile spews for what seems like ashes and then, while my aunt is trying to see out of the spew covered windscreen, my cousin closes his eyes again and goes back to proper slumbering.
My aunt and mum piled us all out of the car to clean us up, except for james who noone wanted to wake, and just cleaned around him. lucky bastard was relatively untouched.
He woke up later and the first thing he asked was why the car smelled like spew.
I also have another one about my best friend, too much laughing, spaghetti bolognese exiting via the nose and a five year old me thinking she was dying, but that's for another day.
Friend and I used to have a drinking game called 'The Minotaur'. The Minotaur was one of those little plastic animals you put on the edge of cocktail glasses. Gist of the game was that if you got to put the minotaur on the other persons glass without them noticing they would have to skull whatever drink they had in hand at the time but if they caught you in the act you would have to do the same. After a fairly solid nights drinking the penultimate round was a reasonably sized Bloody Mary, at a bar which had a reputation for potent Bloody Mary concotions. Suffice to say Minotaur game was on like Donkey Kong and upon placing the Minotaur on my friends drink he promptly skulled what must have been nearly a liter of said drink and from thence forth was more than a little wobbly. Later in the night I was woken by an abusive phone call from his girlfriend who had just finished cleaning vomit out of her bed and was then moving on to cleaning the bedroom floor all the while the vomiter was sound asleep.
'' Later in the night I was woken by an abusive phone call from his girlfriend''
Sounds like a bitch
No she's a gem.
It's a bit off to call up your boyfriends mate and blame them for decisions your boyfriend has made. I mean, he's a grown man.
Anyway.
All in good fun
This one's a bit legendary amongst my friends. A friend of a friend was at the big day out. Pills and booze was imbibed in large quantity. Anyway, dude's not feeling too good. He decides he needs tofind a port a loo ASAP. Does the walk/run to the thunderbox, trying not to vom. Pushes in door after door, all locked. About to chuck. Finally presses on a door which swings open and lets fly with a massive projectile vom. Unfortunately there was a guy in the dunny taking a shit, now covered in vomit. The vomiter figures the shitter is pretty pissed off with him, so pre-emptively punches him square in the face and legs it out of there as fast as he can. Just wow.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HOLY SHIT!
it would be funny if the guy who was vomited on in this last story was also on M+N. eyes narrow, 'one step closer'
mittens is winning.
Haha, I thought that when I posted it!
Wowzers.
Mittens, the vomiting on someone in the toilet thing happens in a comedy film or TV series... trying to remember which one.
I was at a friend of a friend's friend's house party many years ago, and vomited in the nearest receptacle, which happened to be her washing machine. The lid was swiftly closed and I made a similarly swift exit.
I thought I'd gotten away with it until 5 or so years later, when I was introduced to her at another party as the guy who vomited in her washing machine.
That makes so much AND so little sense it hurts my brain.
1997 and Radiohead play the Entertainment Centre in Sydney.
A very young emo boy beside me gets so excited when they start playing ''Just'' that he projectile vomits a huge stream of goodness straight into the frizzy hair of the girl directly in front of him.
She turns so slowly and incredulously towards him, then he just runs away in the other direction while she runs her hands through the back of her hair not yet fully understanding what has happened...
In the 90s I sat around a camp fire in Wye River with a group of friends drinking the only booze we had left... for some reason it was a bottle of Arak from Lebanon - 63% alcohol!
I should have known this was serious shit when a mate took s swig from the bottle and spat it out in disgust at the fire causing a huge fireball combustion! Anyways, I drank over half the bottle foolishly (hey I was young!) and that night vomited in the tent with everyone in it. At the time we were all too pissed to even care to clean it and slept around my puddle of vom... anyways, the amazing part of story was we slept in and awoke to find the Arak vom puddle had eaten a hole through the tent floor like fucking acid!... haha. It was actually my parents tent n' so I folded it up and packed it away when I got home and forgot about it! About a year later my folks were going camping and my Dad rang me n' was like ''...er, why does the tent have a massive hole in the middle of the floor?'' ....oops!
jj is a penis
But the worst thing I ever done - I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.
^^ Should've filled water pistols with cream and gone to the porno cinema.
2002, I'm in Tokyo by myself for a week before I'm meeting a mate who was living in the UK at the time. Plan was to meet there and travel around Japan together for a couple of weeks. Anyway, I stumbled upon a pretty cool izakaya in Shinjuku (one that I frequent every time I go there now) and was eating, minding my own business. A couple of other gaijin walk in and sit down and after they order we start talking. They are English teachers and one of them is Australian - from Mentone in fact. Next thing, they invite me to a bar where some of their friends were playing that night, so after a few more beers, we are off to get a train out into the western burbs.
The pub was small and half full of English teachers, the other half by Jappers who like hanging out with gaijin. The place had a cover charge of 2500 yen, and that included all you could drink for 2 hours. I'm not a huge drinker by any stretch anyway, but was being served big steins of beer at a great rate, while I sat around talking shit with Canadians, Americans, Australians, etc. The barman would bring over a full beer before I'd finished my last one and he would make me skull the last one while he was standing there. By the end of the night, I was up singing karaoke with some dudes on acoustic guitar backing me. I'm sure it was amazingly awe-inspiringly awful.
I'd missed the last train, so the dude from Melbourne said I could crash at his place. I was absolutely smashed, and ended up sleeping with my head outside the balcony sliding door (because I just wanted fresh air). I woke up the next morning feeling like Creeping Death. This was a saturday morning and the dude invited me to a BBQ later with his teaching mates. I declined because I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He walked me back to the station and I headed back into Tokyo.
On the train, I felt so ill, at one point I lay on the floor of the carriage. I was so embarrassed, but so sick. You're waiting for the vomit part, right?
Well I made it to shinjuku station, 10am saturday morning. I get off the train and there are thousands of mums and dads and children and normal people going about their saturday shopping trips and the like. I finally cant hold it anymore, and in front of about 500 people I projectile vomit on the train platform. Then again, and once more, while holding myself up on a guard rail.
I got out of there as soon as I could and went back to the hotel to crash out. It was possibly my lowest point.
if you actually did this, I've just found a new role model
In The Metro circa '90, a friend and I were so smashed (drinking back at his place and then going there early before they charged- CHEAPSKATES!) by 8pm he was looking really wobbly.
We were just standing there when Yoges started to spew slowly enough to catch it. I rushed him into the toilets and he brought up the day's takings. When he was done, he slumped next to the toilet, while I slumped on the closed lid blink we wake up and it's now 3am. Cozy 5 hour sleep in the dunnies at the Metro.
Legendary, as in, urban legendary?
My mate has a great story about spewing into Jaz Coleman's suitcase of clothes when Killing Joke toured NZ in the 80's. I'd try to retell it, but can't do it the justice it deserves.
nice goonies ref
I was relaying the crazy shenanigans of this thread to my woman and told that story (as written, complete with built in sound effects). She called bullshit on me straight away - ''It's from the goonies!'' And since I didn't believe her I've got to watch this movie now.
Chunk the greatest
This is possibly the greatest story I have ever heard.
after a pretty big night at a house party we went out on the town when all of a sudden i started to feel real bad. i headed to the dunnies but too late. i did the hand to mouth thing which sent vom flying either side onto some bogans and a pool table. luckily my mates were able to talk the victim out of his opinion that ''i feel like i should just bash him, y'know?''
Gold.
You folk are a disgrace. I love it.
I have been to 2 separate parties in the same year, prob 8 years ago, where the same guy got so drunk that he shat himself, at each event!! oh, there was also vomit invloved, but I think shitting oneself pretty much one-ups it. was a terrible sight. What was funny the second time was that another guy who was also wasted proceeded to help the shit guy to undress himself and got in a shower cubicle with him to help him wash. I saw the shit guy and his wife at a house auction near the place where I live a couple of months ago. They were outbid on the property.
that bit in breaking bad or always sunny
How do you come back from that? If 'the shit guy' is memorable to a random 8 years later, how do his friends look him in the eye now?
now they're all probably just having a laugh about the good ol' days...