Because it's funny.
Aug. 1st, 2009 09:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elionwyr(C'mon, admit it...vomit stories are funny!)
The Uncle Jack story made me think of the following (much shorter) tale:
My then-husband had just returned from a dino dig in Montana, and was presenting a slide show (if memory serves) at the museum where we were both employed.
I was eager to see this.
I was also coming down with my first (knock-on-wood-ONLY) sinus infection. So for much of the show, I was once again huddled in a fetal position in a theatre chair, this time wondering how exactly someone had managed to pour concrete into my sinuses.
About halfway along the drive home, I realized that - yay! - I was going to have to throw up. Now, as previously stated, a Dusti and her vomit needs some privacy. I had reclined the passenger side car seat down as low as I could, so trying to raise myself to an upright position was not going so well. Picture then, if you will, my frantic sideways clawing at the car door handle as J begged me to just lower the window and stick my head out the window if I was going to euke.
"Nooooooooooo, stopstopstop I need to get out!" I moaned, still flailing at the door.
He pulled over. I managed to open the door and..nope, not gonna be able to dive under any bushes this time. I huddled against the passenger side front wheel and emptied the contents of my stomach (mostly drainage from my afflicted sinuses) onto the road.
And then collapsed.
I heard J open his door and walk over to my almost-corpse lying there in the gutter.
"Well! You don't find THAT colour in nature!"
(Indeed, my creation looked rather radioactive.)
"Shut up and put me back in the car!" I mumbled.
...Which he did, bless his heart.
The Uncle Jack story made me think of the following (much shorter) tale:
My then-husband had just returned from a dino dig in Montana, and was presenting a slide show (if memory serves) at the museum where we were both employed.
I was eager to see this.
I was also coming down with my first (knock-on-wood-ONLY) sinus infection. So for much of the show, I was once again huddled in a fetal position in a theatre chair, this time wondering how exactly someone had managed to pour concrete into my sinuses.
About halfway along the drive home, I realized that - yay! - I was going to have to throw up. Now, as previously stated, a Dusti and her vomit needs some privacy. I had reclined the passenger side car seat down as low as I could, so trying to raise myself to an upright position was not going so well. Picture then, if you will, my frantic sideways clawing at the car door handle as J begged me to just lower the window and stick my head out the window if I was going to euke.
"Nooooooooooo, stopstopstop I need to get out!" I moaned, still flailing at the door.
He pulled over. I managed to open the door and..nope, not gonna be able to dive under any bushes this time. I huddled against the passenger side front wheel and emptied the contents of my stomach (mostly drainage from my afflicted sinuses) onto the road.
And then collapsed.
I heard J open his door and walk over to my almost-corpse lying there in the gutter.
"Well! You don't find THAT colour in nature!"
(Indeed, my creation looked rather radioactive.)
"Shut up and put me back in the car!" I mumbled.
...Which he did, bless his heart.
