I may never be able to eat bacon again.
It's a TRAGEDY!!!
So ... i was lying on my bed. Not feeling to good after my late night snack of bacon on toast, when began to know that things were not going well in the digestion department. In fact, i decided that i thought that i might be about to commence being sick.
The bathroom is at the other end of the house and i began to feel also perhaps too darn far away.
I looked about me and noted a handy flexible bucket style container that could be rapidly emptied and did so with a promptness rewarded with the rapid refilling of said container with watery, bready soup and what i would have been proud to call finely diced bacon if i had done so by hand.
All well and good and not a bad thing because one always feels so much better just after a spew, however ...
... unfortunately ...
I am one of those people who sometimes (well frequently) faint if i vomit in an upright position.
So the next thing i am aware of is that beautific feeling of ultimate relaxation and warmth that one has (or at least i do) when waking from passing out (or anthesthetic), then i remembered what i had been doing prior to this and realise i have just been snuggling down into a pool of my own vomit.
It was a massive regurgitation. A puddle over a metre square.