Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Friday, February 16, 2007


Chunks in the Night

So how'd you start your day this morning? Maybe by rolling over and kissing your spouse? It could be you laid still in bed, trying to remember a wonderful dream as it slipped away from your mind. Perhaps you jumped out of bed with the sound of the alarm and then realized you didn't have to go into work until later, and so got to snuggle back under the covers.

Me, I puked in my sleep.

I woke this morning to the sudden and disturbing knowledge that my stomach had just hit the eject button and I was about to hurl. Fortunately for my wife and our linen, I had the presence of mind to keep my mouth closed.

You've done that, right? Thrown up when you had no good place to put the vomit and so were forced to send it back down your esophagus? Yeah, I hate that. 'Cause most of it went right back down--burning the shit out of my throat as it went--but there was one chunk that decided it liked being where it was, so I had to drink some water to wash it back down.

Then I'm lying there, thinking, "Wait, did I just puke?" And I had to answer, "Yeah, you did. Sucks, doesn't it?" So I look at the clock and it's about half an hour before I'm supposed to get up. If I drag my ass to the bathroom and brush my teeth, there's no way I'm gonna fall back asleep before the alarm goes off. So I drank a shitload of water and ate a few Listerine Breath Strips. Then I lied back down and tried not to breath on my wife.

Now, I don't know exactly why the hell I blarfed in my sleep. I don't remember having a particularly nauseating dream. I didn't feel sick when I went to bed. We did get food delivered last night and the vegetarian sesame chicken did not seem as fresh and delicious as it might have. I suppose, then, that my wrath should be directed at Empire Szechuan.

That's what I'll do, then.

Here and now, I call on Empire Szechuan to meet me on the field of honor. A duel, Empire Szechuan! The gauntlet is hurled! Face me, if you dare, Empire Szechuan. I will make you pay for my nearly blowing chunks in my bed. And for every time you've sent me tamago that did not live up to my expectations. I name you Coward, Empire Szechuan, and I will exact my vengeance.

You do realize that this may ruin your sex life--for at least a week.

Your wife.
Disgusteroo. Feel better, barfy.

Must've been that polka-dotted pizza.
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