In church. I tried to make it out of the sanctuary but didn’t quite make it. It was pretty awful. Fortunately the portion of the sanctuary where I wasn’t able to hold it in has a tiled floor, so the janitor was able to quickly mop up the mess – and the trail through the foyer to the ladies’ room, and the floor of the ladies’ room into the first stall.
As it turned out, that happened to be the first sign that I was pregnant with L’ilElle #1, and when we announced the pregnancy to our congregation everyone remembered what happened with a “Oooooooooh.” kind of look on their faces, and the janitor didn’t hold it against me, especially since sent him a big homemade chocolate cake in apology.
A friend of mine vomited IN another one of my friend’s shoe.
Not on it… in it.
Cleaning up the next morning, (after seeing the state of the bathroom) the guy says ‘Well, at least my shoes are alright’. Then he picked up the shoe, and vomit poured out.
Ooh, ooh, 18 years ago into my shoes on a hydrofoil off the coast of Japan after my old man gave us all cans of fruit juice to drink.
I was puked ON by a friends sister in the back of a Mooney a few years back while my friend and another guy we knew were flying 90-degree bank climbing turns, taking aerial photos of his neighborhood while my friends sister was heads-down reading her medical school text in the back seat with me.
At the Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família in Barcelona- in various gardens, on the floor, and spectacularly off of a bridge leading up to it. I had some kind of traveler’s stomach bug that lasted just that afternoon. I had to sleep on a bench in the catherdral for about two hours. Now whenever anything on TV mentions Barcelona, they show the Sagrada Familia, and I just up and down excitedly saying “I threw up there. I threw up all over that place”.
My next most spectucular vomit was when I was seated front and center on the balcony of a large civic auditorium. When the crowd cleared out, I stood up, and vomited all over the place.
My college roommate and I went into a McDonald’s after one evening’s drunken festivities, and when he took his wallet out he puked into it. The great thing was, he didn’t remember it, so he got to enjoy it all over again the next day when he opened his moist, pungent wallet.
When I was a kid, outside of a restaurant in Germany. We had just arrived, I was overexcited and still feeling residual airsickness when my uncle thought it would be a great idea to stop for a snack. I felt ill, couldn’t figure out where the ladies’ room was, so I ran out the front entrance of the restaurant and vomited into the bushes there. Sure was a great advertisement, eh?
Some of you might know that in Buffalo, 19 is as big a birthday as 18 and 21. Why? The drinking age in Ontario is 19, and it’s a hop, skip and jump to the “American bars” in Niagara Falls that cater to American 19-year-olds.
Well, I had a friend whose girlfriend didn’t drink. HEAVEN. She drove every weekend while we went to the American bars and drank ourselves stupid.
One night, after a particularly rough session, she pulled into my friend’s driveway down the street, and we were headed back. Suddenly, it hit me. I ended up holding on to my neighbor’s newly-planted sapling and vomiting all over their front lawn. Luckily, they never suspected me.
This past Memorial Day, my brother had accrued some liberty time from the US Marine Corps and was home. We went up to Canada, but got there late. Well… 90 minutes later we’d each had about 15 drinks. The same friend, who now had a NEW girlfriend who didn’t drink, decided while we were still on the Canadian side that he needed to evacuate his bladder. We pulled over and, long story short, I ended up vomiting in a Canadian trailer park. I’d write them a note of apology, but I have no idea where it was.
I got sick (hungover) on a bus trip once, when I knew I’d never get back to the foul bathroom. I didn’t have an sickness bag, so I brilliantly concocted one out of a heavy paper envelope you get with developed photos. Perfect! Until the acidity of my vomit burned through the adhesive on the bottom flap. Sigh.
More recently, I vomited in front of a bunch of fellow Dopers, right into a planter outside a bar in NYC. Not one of my prouder moments. I can’t even claim to have drunk myself into that condition either, more’s the pity.
Both times I was 9 or 10 and home sick from school. The first time, he was snuggled in bed with me and I was really ill. The second time, he was sitting on the stairs and I was on the step up behind him.
He was very good about it. My mom had to bathe him. He was less good about that.
I’ve thrown up all over myself when I was too sick to get up. I’ve thrown up all over my living room floor and was too sick to clean it up right away. Yuck. I guess that’s not “strange” as much as gross.
Funny story (well, funny at the time): my mother and I were out and about in the car, and I decided to rinse with some mouthwash and spit it out while stopped at a stop-sign. The occupants in the car behind us practically fell over one another gawking at my green foamy spit, so my mother and I decided I would spit a mouthful of mouthwash out the door at every stop-sign until they were gone. I wish I could blame my age, or my mother for encouraging me, but we’re both grown adults.
Not me but one of my buddies barfed through the mosquito net of his tent at a festival. Chunks inside, rest inside. Can anyone ask for more entertainment than that?
Crossing the American/Canadian border in northern Maine. For the 15 miles trip to the border there was six of us sharing a bottle of rum and coke. One of us, the dear departed Paul, took it upon himself to make sure it was gone by the time we got to the customs house.
Custom’s guy: “Do you have any thing to declare?”
Dear departed Paul: “Raaaaaalllpppphhhh!!!” right out the door, right in front of the custom’s guy.
He let us go. I think he was just happy to get rid of us.
On a someone’s lawn in Rosedale, a rather rich area of a Toronto. We were coming back from a friend’s birthday party in which I had imbibed a pint of Guiness, a pint of Heineken, a large ice cream sundae, a large dinner, and then went to a club for a couple of hours and while there had a couple of Stella Artois. Not a lot of drinking, I know, but man did that ice cream not sit well. Heading back to the 'burbs we were cutting through Rosedale, I had to go so we stopped the car, I ran on to their lawn and did the job there. Oh well, they’re rich enough to have someone clean it up.
All over the sidewalk on a hot summer day after mixing a ‘suicide’ drink when the do-it-yourself fountain sodas were first becoming popular. Mixing orange soda and Mountain Dew and other flavors in a 32oz cup is something I haven’t done since.
On the Tilt-a-Whirl at a local carnival. All over 3 friends who were squeezed in with me. The guy just kep letting the ride go on and on and on. Advice to future amusement park riders: don’t load up on pancakes before going on rides that spin you round and round.
