a reply to: SyxPak
Good day sir!
I have unfortunate news about Friday nights exploits. I went to celebrate a friends 40th Birthday, and hence was drinking heavily for the entire
evening. Apparently, when the gathered throng repaired to the abode of another good friend of mine, I sat down entirely normally, started working
through some shapes on my buddies bass guitar, and then, all of a sudden, I passed the bass off to another reveler, and made a bee line for the
For more than two hours, I was allegedly wrapped around the toilet bowl, occasionally chundering into it (some how managing not to get the ejected
material all over the bathroom. Occasionally, my friends would come along and knock on the door to ensure that I was still capable of conscious
response, and was not drowning in an ever growing puddle of stomach contents.
After a time, the sound of my violent regurgitation ceased, and when I had not returned to the living room, a delegation of two of the party goers
(one of them a resident of the address at which this galling event played out, and the other the actual "birthday boy") was sent from the living
room to ascertain my status, and to ensure that life signs were present. I am told that they found me, sat upon the toilet, trousers around my ankles
as if I had been using the toilet in the traditional fashion, and fast asleep.
The lady of the house was actually the one who entered the bathroom first (since in my rush to get face to toilet bowl, I had not locked the door),
and promptly left again, which allowed space for the individual whose birthday we were celebrating on the night in question, to enter the bathroom,
whereupon he immediately took a photograph of the repellent scene within. So the tale goes, I was impossible to rouse from my slumber, probably
exhausted by the hours of gut wrenching muscular spasms, and so they left me to it. The party wound up, folk went to bed or passed out on couches.
I knew nothing of this until I received a phone call from another friend of mine well after leaving the premises in question, just after nine this
morning. I had awoken on the couch, in the living room, thinking nothing what so ever was untoward, aside from the fact that I was late for work. I
hurried back to Shoeburyness quite utterly hung over, and having begun my day at work, received the phone call from my friend, alerting me to my utter
uselessness, and describing the situation.
I am disgusted with myself. Absolutely disgusted. I also received a call from the residents of the household which I had so disrupted by way of my
drunkenness. They both were very understanding of my plight, and had just called to congratulate me on being so tidy during the violent ejection of
the contents of my stomach. Despite their understanding, I still feel very badly about the whole affair. That is NOT the way a gentleman comports
I certainly will not be getting into the habit of being THAT drunk!