The Vomitorium - Vomit, Barf and Puke.


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The Vomit Anthology

The classics. They're oldies but goodies. We think they're hilarious, but why not read on and make your own opinion?


Warning: Read the following at your own risk. We accept no responsibility for you puking over your keyboard or screen.

 I remember a friend telling me the difficulty he had trying to remove spaghetti from his nostrils after throwing up. He had to pull it out with his fingers as continuous retching failed to remove it. He was at a bus stop at the time!

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I can sort of relate to the spaghetti one. I woke up one morning after a night on the piss with a blocked nose. Got some tissues and blew it and a huge noodle came out. Guess I must have spewed some time the night before.

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No, I didn't vommie at the conference in Lorne, just walked into a window and broke my nose. I actually don't have a good vommie story - every time I have been drunk I have made it to the toilet and spewed in a ladylike fashion.

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My favourite 'sicky' was being sick in to a Sainsbury's bag while travelling at speed down the A1. The handles make useful hooks which fit around your ears. I have also tried this with a Tesco's bag but they have holes in to prevent little children suffocating.

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I was standing around in the Coleherne - perilously close, as it turns out, to the toilet door. A young man rushed towards me and a vast wide gush of projectile vomit flew from his mouth horizontally over a distance of about eight feet. It missed me by eighteen inches. I was grateful for that. He didn't make it to the toilet. I walked away, my poise unruffled.

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A friend of mine was given a lift home on the back of motorbike once after drinking about 18 pints. He threw up in his crash helmet. Luckily he was near his house when it happened or he might have died. The best bit was getting the helmet off so I'm told.

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One of my fave vom stories is about a friend of mine when he was going out with one of his first girlfriends. He was 29. Apparently in the middle of a passionate kiss from above, he vommied.

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A friend once saw someone walk into a pub and suddenly carrots and cabbage gushed out of the man's nostrils. Unruffled, he walked to the toilet with a big smile on his face to clean himself up. When he returned, still grinning, it was apparent that his attempt to clean himself up had failed, because he had simply wiped carrot and cabbage all over his forehead and his hair. He stayed in the pub blissfully unaware of his bizarre appearance.  (Note: Not whole carrots and cabbages, just bits of them!)

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I had a similar experience when I was 21 and went to a Birthday party starving hungry and promptly ate many packets of peanuts and then drank loads of Gin just to get my dancing trousers on. I started throwing up at eight o'clock and didn't stop until five the next morning. Half digested peanuts is not a pretty sight. My mates took me home in a Cab catching my puke in their hands as the cab driver threatened to stop and throw me out. On getting home, they lay me in the porch, rang the door bell and did a runner. My mother answered and thought I'd been run over and got into a tizzy and fetched the neighbours to help me in and undress me. They tactfully explained I was just wrecked. My mother was quite lenient with me as I went through a very bad night and I fully expect to be allowed out with my friends again some time in the next year. Since then I nearly vom just by smelling Gin, but I still like peanuts.

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The night I lost my virginity, my girlfriend cooked me a meal and we drank plenty of wine and whisky. I was attempting to be suave and sophisticated but this failed when I threw up in the sink. I remember vividly my girlfriend forcing the bits of mushroom down the plughole whilst saying "There, there". We did it immediately afterwards even though I still had bits of carrot suspended from my nose.

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A guy I know was staying at a friends house the night of a party. He drank far too much and had to get to the toilet fairly sharpish. Although he was in a strange house he knew where the bathroom was and made his way there. He threw open the bathroom door and threw up exactly where the toilet was - unfortunately the lid was down.

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On my recent cruise to Spain I went to the gents toilet near the 'posh' bar on the boat and found to my disgust that not only was the bowl of the toilet generously besplattered with vomit, but in the water were floating whole pieces of smoked salmon! Whoever ate them had allowed them to slip down his throat unchewed, and they had obviously slipped UP his throat with equal ease some time later. YUK!!!

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Paul used to go out drinking with a buddy and whenever he stayed over his friend would put him in the spare room with a pint of water and a bucket. One night he was suffering serious room-spin and reached for the bucket and threw up into it. It was only after he'd thrown up that he realised half his clothes had fallen into the bucket when he got undressed.

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One night, I was in a foul mood and heavily drinking vodka right from the bottle. Well after about 1/2 the bottle I got the spins and decided to run for the toilet. Well I made it to the bathroom, but didn't quite have time to get the seat up, as ya can expect it was a good projectile one too, looked like a puke bomb went off in the bathroom, it was everywhere, dripping down the walls and all kinda good stuff. What's worse is that I managed to clean it up without calling any more dinosaurs.

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During a stag night in Covent Garden I did a projectile vomit while walking down the street, I casually stepped over the pavement pizza I had created and carried on. The other members of the group were most impressed.

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My girlfriend and I were at a friend's place, hitting the vodka and sambuca in a big way. We only lived ten minutes walk away and on the way home, she insisted that she must be given Alkaseltzer before she went to sleep otherwise her hangover would be truly woeful . She got into bed and I dutifully made up a small glass of the vile concoction. 

She downed it in one and vomited immediately afterwards all over my side of the bed. I was not amused at cleaning up a bed and especially, vomit-soaked pillows at 3 am whilst pissed and beginning to get a hangover. The pillows were never the same and had to be replaced. My girlfriend succeeded in getting to sleep whilst this operation was carried out...

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One Saturday night my friend Gary and I stayed in baby-sitting whilst my wife Yvonne and Gary's girlfriend Theresa went out on the razz. We received a phone call from them at 1am and they were in a seriously giggly, drunken state, they implored us to put some wine and beers in the fridge to cool as they were coming home to get even more pissed.

Half an hour later there was a knock at the front door, Theresa stood there looking decidedly worse for wear, I asked her where Yvonne was. She replied 'Oh, she's just throwing up at the bottom of your driveway', seconds later my wife fell through the garden gate. They explained that they had scoffed a bag of chips on the way home and had both felt unwell. 

Gary then said to Theresa 'You've got a piece of chip in your cleavage' and he picked it out and ate it, only to be told by Theresa that it was in fact a piece of sick. He was not best pleased. Yvonne decided it was time for bed and duly disappeared upstairs, Theresa spent the night asleep while cuddling the toilet basin.

Needless to say Gary and I polished off the contents of the fridge. The next day Yvonne was out hosing the sick off the driveway!

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When I was 17 years old, my friends and I decided we would visit a local village pub which sold Marston's Owd Roger. To the uninitiated this is a bitter more akin to barley wine than your usual dross. One of the chaps said that he would drive as he didn't want to get too pissed, so there we were, four of us squeezed into a tiny Fiat 126.

I felt like the cock o' the north as I was resplendent in my new fake leopard skin (it was suede) topped shoes. Several pints of Owd Roger later we left the pub in a shit state, including the driver, who thought he was sober because he had only drunk three pints. We were travelling along in the Fiat when I noticed my friend who was sitting in the back with me had his head bowed down. I asked him if he was being sick, he replied 'No, f**k off!'. Not trusting him I put my hand down onto my new left shoe, it was fine.

Seconds later my friend did a sicky sort of burp and bowed his head again. Again I lowered my hand to check my shoe, unfortunately on this occasion he had in fact spewed, all over my new left shoe. The other occupants of the car found this highly amusing, including my spewing friend who lifted his head to laugh and puked over the back of the passenger seat. My friend who was sitting in the passenger seat, in his new thrift shop jacket, was still rocking with laughter at my misfortune, only to realise that he had now sat back in a cascade of sick. Oh how we roared, apart from the driver who was so pissed off with us that he threw us out of his car and made us walk the last mile home!

I woke up the next morning to find my pillow covered in a brown, treacle like substance, at first I thought I had shat the bed, I soon realised that I had puked up while asleep. When dry, the puke looked like Bonfire Toffee and years later I could still find small fragments of it under my bed.

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When I was 18 years old, studying for my A levels and depressed I decided to get blasted on Pernod. I drank just under 3/4 of a litre of it , using orange juice, lemonade and coke as mixers. The last thing I remember was sitting on the kitchen floor next to the fridge while draining the last remnants of the bottle of Pernod. 

The next thing I knew I was being shook awake by my mother the next day. Nothing unusual in this you may suspect, however, at the time I was stark-bollock naked lying in a pile of wallpaper shavings, on the floor of the downstairs toilet that my father was decorating. I had puked everywhere but down the pan and my body was covered in sick and wallpaper fragments. At this point my father decided that he would be better tiling the walls as they would be easier to clean in future!

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A friend of Yvonne's was travelling back from an Aerobics class, still wearing her lycra costume. She suddenly felt very car sick, however, she didn't know the driver of the car very well so she decided to pull her lycra top away from her body and puke down her top rather than puke in the kind person's car.

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The first time I went to a party to get really pissed I was about 15. I was in my friends bedroom who was having the party ( his parents were away at the time ) when I suddenly felt violently ill. Knowing exactly where the window was ( I'd been there many times before ) I immediately headed for it as a projectile vomit started erupting. I made the windows just in time, only problem being I forgot about the fly screen.

My mate cleaned the strainer, oops I mean flyscreen.

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I was living in the downstairs bedroom at my parents house. I can't remember the occasion but I went to bed extremely pissed. Soon after lying down on my water bed I started getting the bed spins. They continued to get worse but I was feeling too sick to get up. Next thing I know the bed spins changed from being horizontal to vertical.

In other words I was spinning head over foot. I still couldn't get out of bed so I decided to wait until my head was at the top of it's spin to throw up. That should have ensured that no spew went on me. WRONG. Ahhhh, I finally had to get out of bed and ran to the toilet still vomiting all the way. After finishing in the toilet and trying to clean myself up I just couldn't bare to clean up the mess. I went upstairs to my parents room, quietly woke up my mother and asked her to come downstairs quick. When we got downstairs the family cat was standing right in the middle of the puke pile EATING IT. 

Arr, I felt so sick I just pulled the spew sheets off my bed, lay down and went to sleep leaving my mother to clean everything up. Needless to say I wasn't too popular the next day.

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I had only been going out with my girlfriend (now my wife) for a short time when I was invited to stay over at her place after a party one Friday night in a nearby suburb. After coming home really pissed I went to sleep in the spare room and the next thing I remember the bedroom light was on and her parents were inside shaking me. 

Seems that I had started puking in my sleep and they thought I was choking to death. As they tried to get me out of bed I just kept telling the old man to f**k off. Wasn't I popular the next day?
Luckily I've grown up now.

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