Day Three in the Plague House…no ratings, please

My Fellow Inebriates,

I’ve never seen so much vomit. LBHQ is a plague house, people. You never know who’s gonna hurl next. Just when someone decides it’s safe to eat a pizza—OMG!

Even vomiting on a daily basis couldn’t inure me to the sights I’ve seen these past four days. But I’ve never thought to take pictures.

But wouldn’t you know it, others have…Did you know you could view an array of post-digestive offerings from Rate My Vomit?

This one’s called “Too Many Shooters.”

 

And this one’s called “mmm whole milk.” I don’t know what that means, do you? Has he been drinking yak’s milk? Like, A LOT of yak’s milk?

 

I had no idea there was an appetite for a site like Rate My Vomit. I discovered it by accident while searching for a cure for vomiting. Little did I know I could view a staggering gallery of multi-coloured and textured vomit, rate each offering, and spread these pics to the world beyond. Note the “Report as Inappropriate” button. Can I click it for all of them?

What is this a symptom of, my fellow inebriates? Dissolution? Pre-apocalyptic cynicism? Collective malaise? The demise of empathy? The ass-end of voyeurism?

Tomorrow we’ll talk about the benefits of alcohol for the stomach flu…

Everyone here has some sort of plague. It’s the fastest-moving bug ever…Dad started barfing yesterday afternoon; three hours later P painted the bedroom floor (six times). By the time Dad was well enough to help her, Mum was yakking in the toilet. We thought V had escaped it when she woke up chipper and asked to go to school—then promptly tossed her cookies.

The kids are almost recovered but our parents look like they’re going to die. So if the blog doesn’t come back (ora thee typeinggg issliekthis), that’s what’s happened.