What's the worst thing about a night chatting to Huey on the big white telephone?
Is it the gut wrenching spasms? The odious smell of vomit? Is it knowing that you are two minutes away from the pain of your 5th dry retch in as many hours? Is it ill-advisedly watching "Das Boot" as you clutch a bucket to your chest?
Or is it having your wife tell you the following day that your next door neighbours were awakened by your overly-theatrical vomiting?
"It sounded like he was shouting" is a comment that will haunt me for a long time.
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2 comments:
You make a terrible noise even sneezing.I would not like to be your neighbours hearing that in the dead of night.Would think you were being murdered.
Alan. Have you been drinking again?
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