May I just preface this story with the note that had three drinks? Three. Regular drinks- not super drinks, just normal drinks. On St. Patrick’s Day… and I’m Irish Cherokee.
Last night I woke up with horrible stomach cramps. At about 9 am I crawled forth from my home with what felt like the worst hang over I have ever had in my entire life (aside from this party my friend Terry had in college). We’re talking vomit, shakes, the whole mess. I had plans with my friend Dawn, omelets (oh sweet zombie Jesus), rummage sale and museum. I choked down the omelet and started to feel pretty good… until we got in the car and start the winding winding road around muskrat love the horrible urge to… vomit out the window. One more time?
I think this warrants both repetition and further detail:
Pulling into the charity rummage sale to benefit the most exclusive private school in
I am awesome.
I am gorgeous and beautiful and full of a certain mystique that fills the hearts of men with thoughts of both everlasting love and powerful (sweaty) lust.
In all seriousness though, I have almost entirely given up on drinking because these days, I have one drink and the next day I wake up with what feels like a horrible stomach flu. I am now quite concerned that I may have developed an allergy to alcohol, or maybe it is just my reflux. Maybe I should actually take the prescription meds for my stupid reflux.
Meh. I’d rather vomit down the sides of my friends’ cars.
12 comments:
I have seen enough TV to know that when a woman vomits it means only one thing...
So when are you do? And do you really think it is a good idea to go out drinking with a little one coming? :)
Perhaps that explains my weight gain and mysterious sudden hatred of men...
Wait you only hate men?!? I thought you hated everyone. And I am sure you have a special hatred toward those that don't know the difference between do and due.
Well I guess I do hate all people more or less equally.
Do, Due? I couldn't care less, I am not a corrector. I do not correct. It seems kind of snarky and rude.
Snarky and rude. And yet, you don't do it? I am aghast.
This is how I keep you on your toes.
Happily it has been pouring down rain all day, so I didn't need to go to the car wash after all!
:)
Your story reminds me of a New Year's on Sixth. At last call in a Karoke bar, I cleaned the place out with a terribly drunken rendition of "Yesterday", after which, I practically ran off the stage vomiting in my mouth.
I think that we can consider this definitive evidence that either a: everyone loves a good puke story. OR b: everyone likes a story about me being an idiot.
I only wish I had more hilarious puke stories left to give.
Hey Steve! Remember that time you puked on my shower curtain? That was AWESOME.
There is nothing that brings a community together like stories about puke.
All of my great booting stories are about others tossing their cookies and not me. I guess that is why I am not one of the cool kids.
Heh, Q,
Was the night that steve puked on your curtains the same night that I drove him home, and had to stop every 4 blocks for him to puke in some unfortunate soul's yard? Some of those yards were nice, and were very well maintained. Steve should be proud of his work...
Why, yes it was that very night Drew. If I remember correctly he also rocked a hole in my kitchen wall with that brown recliner.
Hey Steve, you owe a new wall. I will accept your payments in the form of many many cupcakes.
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