Do I look like a toilet to you?
What is it with me *and my stuff* getting puked on?
I don't want to draw this out too much but here's what happened:
Shane's friend, Adam, came down for a visit. They played a drinking game to Tiger Woods '05. (Whoever lost the hole had to take a shot of Jagermeister.) Shane lost 17 holes (keep in mind, it only takes about an hour to play one game)...passed out on my bed...and fell on the floor. I put a pillow behind his head--because I'm nice like that--and I talked to Adam for a little while. Shane started throwing up so I ran into the kitchen to get a big bowl/bucket/anything for him to throw up into. By the time I got back into my room, it was everywhere. (TV stand, movies, Super Nintendo, floor, pillow, Shane's face, etc...) We lifted him up *which got vomit all over my pants and shirt* and he kinda heaved into the bowl. At this point, he somehow managed to crawl into the hallway and I kinda cleaned him off before I went back into my room to try and get up the majority of the chunks. (Partially digested fajita meat=not fun to smell/clean up.) Now, I swear I hadn't turned my back on Shane for more than 20 seconds but somehow, within that time-frame, he managed to crawl into his room, get his shirt about half-way off, and pass out on his floor. So, I took his shirt off the rest of the way and Adam and I dragged him into the hallway because it would suck if Shane managed to throw up in his room as well as mine. We cleaned the majority of the mess in my room up...wrote all over Shane with an Expo marker...and went to sleep. I slept on the couch...Adam slept in Shane's room...and Shane slept on the floor in the hallway.
And that's about all the excitement I can take for one journal entry. Much love...
~Roanna
I don't want to draw this out too much but here's what happened:
Shane's friend, Adam, came down for a visit. They played a drinking game to Tiger Woods '05. (Whoever lost the hole had to take a shot of Jagermeister.) Shane lost 17 holes (keep in mind, it only takes about an hour to play one game)...passed out on my bed...and fell on the floor. I put a pillow behind his head--because I'm nice like that--and I talked to Adam for a little while. Shane started throwing up so I ran into the kitchen to get a big bowl/bucket/anything for him to throw up into. By the time I got back into my room, it was everywhere. (TV stand, movies, Super Nintendo, floor, pillow, Shane's face, etc...) We lifted him up *which got vomit all over my pants and shirt* and he kinda heaved into the bowl. At this point, he somehow managed to crawl into the hallway and I kinda cleaned him off before I went back into my room to try and get up the majority of the chunks. (Partially digested fajita meat=not fun to smell/clean up.) Now, I swear I hadn't turned my back on Shane for more than 20 seconds but somehow, within that time-frame, he managed to crawl into his room, get his shirt about half-way off, and pass out on his floor. So, I took his shirt off the rest of the way and Adam and I dragged him into the hallway because it would suck if Shane managed to throw up in his room as well as mine. We cleaned the majority of the mess in my room up...wrote all over Shane with an Expo marker...and went to sleep. I slept on the couch...Adam slept in Shane's room...and Shane slept on the floor in the hallway.
And that's about all the excitement I can take for one journal entry. Much love...
~Roanna