When I was a teenager, my best friend had a "rafter fort" in his garage. After a big spaghetti dinner, he and I decided to imbibe upon a cheap bottle of Vodka and 7up. Of course around 1am I was in serious need of reverse peristalsis, but climbing across a maze of 2x4's and scaling the slats on his garage door (the usual method of descending) was somewhat out of the question given my alcohol-induced vertigo. Fortunately, we had the paper bag that the 7up came in, which made a handy receptacle for my healthy spew of marginally-digested pasta and marinara. But then the problem arose of how to dispose of the oozing bag of vomitus. So, while he clumsily climbed his way down to the floor, I was left, well, holding the bag. Unfortunately, a cheap paper bag is not the most robust container for a hot acidic liquid and it started dripping. Not to mention that the whole experience was starting to make me queasy -- this time with no backup plan. So...right as he was about under me, I did the unthinkable and released my grip on the barf bomb. Let's just say that after the soggy bag fell from about 10 feet to a concrete floor, ground zero was not a pretty sight.
2007-02-14 20:34:54
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answer #2
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answered by Some guy named Dave 1
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