My boyfriend had a “party” last night, and a friend of mine ate too much. Fast forward to this morning, my bf and I are laying in bed, she comes banging on the door and then runs to the bathroom. She has been in and out ever since. Last time she didn’t quite make it and puked across the floor. I got to clean it. Lucky me. :rolleyes: Uch!
Come to think of it, that smiley looks like it’s about to puke too.
Gather 'round, children, to hear the story of why I am the world’s best best friend. I was at this party last year where there was very little alcohol, but everyone was trying to get drunk. My best friend went outside to smoke a cig, and I looked out the window to see her throwing up something red and shiny.
“Shit!” I think. “It’s blood-she’s throwing up blood!”
I try to call the hospital, but the phone service was cut off at the house. I run outside to make sure she’s okay, but I can’t find her. I’m crying at this point, convinced my best friend has tb or something, and wandering around this neighborhood dying and confused. Then I noticed that her vomit is really bizarre looking. I freak out even more, and take some of it into my hand to find a light (still crying of course). When I finally find a light, I notice. . . .
It’s not blood; it’s cough syrup.
I just walked around with a puddle of my best friend’s vomit in my hand while she was trying to get fucked up on cough syrup.
above and beyond, thisyearsgirl. bravo.
hypergirl, just think of it as practice for when you have children.
Kids are always gackin’ up something, at all hours of the day, at the most inopportune moments, and anywhere, and I mean anywhere.
Kids will do it in your car, living room, grocery store, bath tub, I mean everywhere.
All these are examples of places my kids have gacked, but hey aren’t they cute.
You are good friends, hyper & thisyearsgirls. It takes at true friend indeed to clean up barf.
A long-ago roommate, Trina, did this. End of the year, she was packed up and ready to go the next morning so she celebarted by getting thoroughly, systematically hammered. We lost track, but she polished off the tag ends of bottles of tequila and sloe gin, washed down with cans of some godawful stuff (Cactus cola?) that was the only thing left in the pop machine.
I didn’t drink and so was pitifully unprepared for the technicolor results. Let’s just just say Trina was a SPRAYER. (This is a scientifcally (sorta) determined classification of Human Barfing Habits from a different episode in my life. You really don’t want to know.) She was a reeling projectile fountain.
We finally got her to sleep then spent the rest of the night grimly swabbing the suite down with Lysol. We sure couldn’t sleep with the mess and stench. Our parting with her the next morning was…restrained. Maybe she was embarrassed, I’m SURE she felt lousy, but she just blithely bopped away with a “bye, guys!”
Stomach contents rank right at the bottom of list of things to share with friends.
I once spent three hours cleaning up this guy’s puke (30% of which was all over me) and making sure he didn’t die of alcohol poisioning during the night–and he dumped me two days later!
… it was a long time ago, in a state far far away…
And my mother was saying goodbye to a good friend, as she was moving to far away California, and what’s the best way to say so long but with Tequila shots…
Cut to Tristan being woken up at 10pm by his mother stumbling up the stairs, drunk as a lesser noble (or at least a member of the chivalry). Tristan hops out of bed to help mom get to her room… Mom makes a quick stop at the bathroom to heave her guts up…
Well, to make an already too long story shorter, Tristan proved his maternal bond by brushing his mothers puke coated dentures.
I’m the best son ever… just ask my mom.
Next time, just call the nearest dog. One persons trash can be another dogs treasure. My kids and their dogs have a simbiotic relationship.
Actually, even the dog stayed away. Well, at least it was a fun night.