Was it the real bad kind of puke, where you can like reconstruct the dinner menu based on sight alone?

(sorry honey, that's a drag)

The only mildly unpleasant thing that's happened is that when I went out to get cigarettes our crazy landlady asked me if the roof drains were working, so I had to up and check and raise the blinds, knocking my action figure display all over the place (they were working fine).

It was the "chunky" style, I'm afraid. And orange. I'm not sure what one has to eat to produce orange puke (sorry if I ruined anyone's appetite.) I felt something slippery, and then I saw.

(I must say, you have much more patience for our landlady than I do, my love.)

YAY! Another installment of the Pips & Jonmc Show! I miss those!

Hi, Pips! Sorry about your shoes!

"Everybody vomits now and then" -- Sid Vicious

Hmmmm. Orange chunky texture? Thinking caps on...maybe a Coney Island cheese-and-chili hot dog accompanied by way too many Cheetos would produce the right color-and-texture results. All that annatto, I think.

I had a wonderful lunch, by the way -- tuna salad on rye with tomato, lettuce, extra mayo, black olives, and pepproncini slices, and bowl of really nice chicken chili. And now essexjan got me thinking about black olives, feta, tomatoes, capers and chicken for dinner, maybe over some capellini with a dry white?

Even better, one my ex-sailor co-workers regaled me this morning with a reminiscence about violently seasick midshipmen aboard the old USS Essex (CVS-9) off Hatteras one summer; the mess cranks were serving the kids nicely greasy sauerkraut and spareribs to ensure a memorable dinner experience. :o) He got me craving some kraut & pork, and I'd just finished breakfast!

Pips got off lucky. Imagine waiting on your bike, next to a Bus, for the lights to turn green, and before they do—gush—someone projectiles his prior meal all over your head. Saw it with my own two eyes I did, and have had a fear of waiting next to a parked bus at the signals ever since. Cue, violent rolling of the windows of our car whenever my mom and I get anywhere near an intersection.

Sorry about the shoes though Pips. Good to know jonmc is there to make everything better:)

This is one of the reasons I no longer miss living in Manhattan.

I had a wonderful lunch

I had some delicious Sev Puri and Bhel Puri which I'm wondering what it'd look like if it ever came up again.

Some of my kiddie vitamins were grape flavored and I puked them one morning on the way to school--the next time I was bullied I yelled "you eat purple throw-up!" at the kid.

jon, aim for the toilet next time.

*reads [More:]*

Oh.

At least you weren't at work, cleaning it up because that's part of your job. Say that to yourself about 50 times now... (and yeah, I've been there)

And at least you weren't the one puking. I felt nauseous on the elevator and thought I was going to throw up. Thankfully, I sat down after I got off the elevator and the feeling passed. I was trying to figure out the best way to go to the building staff and be like, ummm, I threw up in the elevator?

I had a friend who was so courteous, when she had to vomit on the subway, she did it in her sleeve.

The former girlfriend of the infamous Rob-the-EMT once caught his puke in her hands. Now that's love.

(Hope ya feel better, pink. These stories probably aren't helping, though.)

Oh, and it couldn't have been Coney dogs, Pax... too long a train ride from Coney to the Bronx (maybe an hour and a half). They would've digested. I'm thinking KFC for some reason.

Shoes are okay, by the by. I stepped in a couple puddles and wiped well on the welcome mats at my school. (At least, I hope I got it all...)

(Hi GOML! : )

That's ok, I stepped in ... something in my kitchen yesterday. Starchy and sticky. Chunk of bannana? Old roast potato? Other? Who knows?!

Today felt like I had the inverse Midas touch - everything I touched turned to shit, but things got better.

I got heat stroke while I was at a water park by myself on a busy day, and couldn't make it to my car without throwing up several times. I asked for help in a couple of offices, but no one would help me, I was for sure going to pass out. Somehow I managed to get out of the park - throwing up into my beach towel, a bush, and in my beach bag without calling any more attention to myself. Then I somehow managed to get to the car and drive to the BF's work... It was closer than home at the time, so I waited around until the BF got off work and could drive me home. It was almost the scariest day of my life.

Thought I'd found myself a nice little corner out of the rain, until I looked down.

oooh. I've never had anything that bad happen. But that reminds me of times when I've seen an almost-empty subway car and jumped in. The doors close. I take a big whiff. And I realize why the car is almost empty. I turn and there he is -- a vomit and shit-crusted, piss-soaked homeless dude.

Rotten feeling. But not as bad as that.

I remember a time where I was assisting in an operation on a guy who'd been shot in the abdomen a couple of times by cops.

Just before this, he'd swallowed a couple little sealed foil packets full of cocaine. So we opened him up and plucked out the packets and handed them off to a cop, and then started cleaning up the peritoneal cavity, which was full of stomach contents.

And the surgeon said "Looks like he'd just eaten some chicken piccata," which it did, and to this day I can't eat chicken piccata.

Because that whole thing was nasty.

One time, a friend and I were getting ready for a craft show the next day when she got a call from a friend. "Alice" had gotten off her shift as a waitress in a pal's bar, and had hung around drinking. She was driving home, drunk, when she was stopped by a state trooper. Somehow, she convinced him she was just tired from working a double shift, and he let her go. (!) Scared, she pulled in to a turnpike McDonald's, and called us. We went, with the intention of me driving her car home. We told "Alice" to stay put, and lock the doors. She was over an hour away. We got there, and she's passed out in the driver's seat, car running, locked tight. We cant' get her to wake up. She's thrown up all over herself and her car. Ewwwww. When we do get her awake and lucid enough to unlock the door, the smell just about knocks us over. Wouldn't you know, the manager of the McDonald's would not give us paper towels to clean out the car so we could take it home? We ended up just leaving it there, after notifying the police so they wouldn't tow it. Judging by "Alice's" condition, I have no idea how any trooper would have let her continue driving, and I have no idea how she didn't kill herself or anyone else.
I also caught my son's puke in my hands once, but I didn't care as I had just done the Heimlich on him.