That's Not The Way I Want My Story To End

Warning: This post is not for the weak-stomach.

Firstly, that party I was talking about last time was brilliant. Much larking around and such. Twas a bit of a goodun'. That was until some point past midnight when we were all upstairs tucked into our make-shift beds slowly falling asleep one by one. Everything was perfectly fine until I heard the person next to me (I won't name names, that's harsh) suddenly gags. I opened my eyes to be greeted with splat on the side of my face. Yup, she'd been sick on me. Now, if you've never been puked up on, I don't recommend it. Half my face and part of my hair stunk of God know what and better yet, the bedding between us was covered in the rest of it. Strangely, the sick included whole - yes whole - peas. When questioned about it, the culprit explained that she doesn't chew peas. Very odd.

If feel so sorry for the poor friend of mine who was ill. It's awful throwing up at someone's house. Se felt so guilty bless her, although there wasn't a lot she could do at the time. I mean, you don't really plan to be sick, do you? Well, not in this case anyway. I feel bad for the people who had to clean it up too! Whilst I was in the bathroom washing off, a few people had gathered the remains of the bedding and when I came out again I found one person feeling ill themselves as they had to sit holding a wrapped up duvet and if they let go it would have gone everywhere.

You have to admit though, it was quite an eventful night. And even though at the time I was repulsed, thinking back it is actually very funny. Projectile vomited on by someone who had had too much to drink and doesn't chew their peas. Yummy.

Oh, and one last word from the culprit:
"You don't even know Steve!"