Worst/Best place I have ever thrown up.

[IndyGuy77]

Worst... in a bowl at my brother's apartment. That's the worst because I proceeded to drink it all right back down.

Let me add: there were stringy chunks of chicken wings in the puke.

Let me also add: the next morning, if someone had offered to shoot me in the head, I'd've accepted without question.

[Cowboy Joe]

I'm usually pretty good about puking in private, with a couple of exceptions. One was a few weeks back, when I wretched five or six times on my way back from a bar, puking while walking. My friends thought that was great fun.....

Then was at a birthday party last summer, where I supposedly drank an entire fifth of barcadi white, along with assorted beers and tequila shots, and I proceeded to puke all over my friends deck, and her table, and myself, and this chick I was trying to hook up with. At least they thought it was funny.....

[GoonTrooper]

ive puked in trains, train stations, and other than that just peoples backyards and bathrooms. my mate puked in a shopping centre in the middle of the day.

[Lifer]

Church, in a small waste basket in a corner in someone's office.



And incidently, the dentist is the worst place to go hungover, bar none.

[Slim]

Church, in a small waste basket in a corner in someone's office.



And incidently, the dentist is the worst place to go hungover, bar none.

Imagine how your dentist must've felt

[Uncle Gary]

In the middle of the dining room at Frank's in the French Quarter, waiting for my mufalleta. Regretted it, since I really liked their food. Lots and lots and lots of Black Bush at Molly's on the Market that night. They've long since forgotten that I was 86'd.

[danger awesome]

On my own shoes/in a bush

On purpose.

To get an ugly chick to leave me alone.

[dascott]

Funny you should bring that up, since I've puked on my dentist.

To be fair I did manage to get some of it into that tiny rinse bowl.

[waahoohah]

Funny you should bring that up, since I've puked on my dentist.

To be fair I did manage to get some of it into that tiny rinse bowl.

You are not the only one there. Thankfully, I live in a different town now, and, apparently, dentists do not keep a blacklist for such things.

Okay, worst heave I've ever had: It's the fourth of July. A friend of mine is having a blowout in the house he rents, not caring because it will be knocked down and replaced by a parking lot in two months anyway. Another friend, temporarily flush with cash, fills (I mean, FILLS) his truck full of fireworks. Everybody brings enough booze for three people. It's a small miracle nobody was killed.
Anyway, after all the ordinance had been shot off, and all the cops had left (hey, it's not like they actually SAW us firing mortars at the neighbor's house, and no doubt they had DUI's to catch), after all that, a few of us are just sitting around in the back yard, telling stories. All was mellow. All was good.
I'm in the middle of a good one about my crazy girlfriend at the time, when I get the Urge. It's time to blow. So, not thinking, I lean over the side of the lawn chair I was sitting in, "decorate" a largish patch of my buddy's backyard, then proceed to finish my story. Not until I'm finished do I realize that everyone is staring at me like I just crawled out of a Portal from Hell.
Yes, that patch of lawn died. No, I never got invited to his new place.

[Dionysian Canuck]

Worst - I'll have to plead an exception here, cause this is not even drinking related. Let's just say that helicopter flying doesn't agree with me. I very politely asked for my boss to pass his hardhat over, then very calmly and deliberately filled it to the brim with vomit. I think I had been on the job for about two months at that point.

Best - it depends on your point of view. One house party I felt the urge coming on and was making for the exit; I almost made it out the door, only to expectorate all over the piled up shoes of everybody at the party. So I was told, anyway - last I remember I had decided to slam a bottle of cooking sherry. Very sweet, at least on the way down...

[Dionysian Canuck]

I should add that I suspect that the latter story was embellished for my (oblivious) benefit - no one ever reacted with the rage or resentment that it should have entailed were it strictly true. Still, it makes a good story, in the appropriate venue...

[WorkingFlaskHero]

In line for a show at the Mab in S.F. Actually, it wasn't me. This girl infront of a bunch of us was wearing one of this annoying little back packs that is the size of a pack of cigarettes. The top was open for all to see. Very calmly, my buddy walked over behind her, aimed his face and vomitted into it succesfully with out the victim ever knowing. I laughed soo hard I had to walk to the nearest allyway and piss. I came back and then laughed some more.

[Borracho]

All of these are very impressive to be sure. That being said, I am guessing I can beat all of them, at least if you even went to college.

I was just barely at my town I was staying at during my European semester abroad. I got drunker than hell. I don't know where I was, where I started, but two Austrian guys who were thankfully heterosexual found me and while we drove around town and I couldn't recognize anything, at some point I finally remember the name of the street my dorm was on. They drove me there. Of course, I did not have a key. So in my 19 year old inebriated state I climbed up the outside staircase then spider-manned my what up to the top window and got in. I tried to get into my room which was a few feet away. I wasn't going to get so try, after try. I was locked into a bathroom and had a huge need to take a dump, which I did. Never mind that there was no head, I did so in the sink. Then I passed out on the floor.

The next thing I knew, the leader of the whole trip was in my face asking why I shit in his sink. Oops!!! I cleaned the sink out and tucked my tail for many weeks, but I nearly got sent home. That was the old days, I am so sorry for kids today. In my town some girls who were throwing french fries got cited by the PD. Live is no longer fun and barely worth living...

Borracho...

[Illiniwek]

I can't think of any puke-place better than the side of a friend's (parents') house in high school. But I have pissed on the United Center. For some reason, we got there for a Blackhawks game early enough that the doors weren't even open. I didn't know that and told the guy driving to "let me out, I gotta piss, you park and I'll meet you at the seats." The doors weren't open! I'm on the verge of pissing myself, so I go to the gate 3 ticket window (I think - it was the northeast corner of the building), look around for people/cops, whip it out and let it fly. I'm pushing like my wife was when she delivered our kids to speed up the process, manage not to piss on myself, then walk nonchalantly away from a puddle running away from the building toward the street.

That drive in from the 'burbs is a killer with traffic!

[mhaggard]

Ahh...the puke story.

I the Fall of 1987 I had just enrolled at the University of Arizona. I had had some drinking experience, but was very much a rookie. I was talked into joining a fraternity. I was living away from home for the first time, and I was ready to party.

A few of us decided to attend a party at another fraternity because we knew a few of the guys there. After drinking a few beers at home, we walked about 6 blocks to the party. I was blown away by what I saw. Girls! Drunk girls! My God, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. There was a keg and a very large trash can filled with a purple punch and cut up fruit. I thought, "what the Hell", and went for the punch.

One glass. I was feeling fine. the music was getting better. I was feeling more confident. Oh yeah!

Two glasses. Feeling very good now. Hey, I can talk to hot girls. Seems like my dancing has improved. I was dropping jokes like a professional comedian. this stuff is great.

Three glasses. Damn I'm hot. I'm a dancing fool. These girls can't resist me. I'm the life of the party. After this, I'll probably be invited to every party. I'm definitely getting laid tonight. College life is grand.

Four glasses. OK, here is where things get a little weird. About 3/4 of the way through the fourth glass something strange happened. It was like the earth shifted on it's axis. A kind of shudder. All of a sudden, things were getting blurry. It was much darker outside. The lights all had trails. I seemed to have lost motor function. Oh shit. I don't feel so well. I think it was about 8:30pm.

Just then EW walks up to me.

EW: Hey, wanna go to another party?

Me: I can't move.

EW: No, really, I want to get out of here.

Me: No, seriously, I can't move. I don't think I can stand much longer.

EW: Yeah, you don't look so good. What were you drinking?

Me: The punch.

Ew: Oh shit, man! That's fucking grain alcohol punch.

Me: Get me home, quick.


So EW proceeds to help, hold up, drag me back you our room. At this point I have stopped recognizing language. All I hear is gibberish when EW talks to me. He drags me into the bathroom where all goes black.

I come to with others in the bathroom. All I see is shadows and I her muffled voices.

Oh oh. Oh no. No. No! NO!

uuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhh!

I could feel the contents of my stomach unloading and I could hear it splattering all over the bathroom.

I was told later that at this point I continued to vomit/ dry heave for about 30 minutes. I was catatonic. No one was able to communicate with me. they stripped me down, put me in the bathtub, and washed me off. They said I continued to heave for about 2 hours.

I came to a bit and heard this conversation:

President of the house: what the Hell happened in here?

EW: Uh, grain alcohol.

Pres: How long has he been like this:

EW: A few hours now.

Pres: Shit! Maybe we should get him to a hospital.

Someone else: No, we'll get in trouble. He's underage.

Fade out....

I somehow woke up shivering in the bathtub about 4:30am. I think I'm dying. I manage to crawl to my bed. It takes me a while, but I get into bed and under the covers. I need water, but I can't get it. Sleep. Death. whatever.

I awoke about 9:30pm and thought someone had beaten my head with a sledgehammer. I still could not move. EW came in to check on me. He brought me Gatorade. I drank about half of it and then proceeded to throw up into a wastebasket. Oh God, Someone kill me. I went back to sleep.

I awoke the following afternoon still feeling very ill. But I was able to lay there and hear everyone in the house tell me about how fucked up I was. After about three days of being sick, I decided it was time to get right back on that horse. The rest, as they say, is history.