Kablammo!

Hear ye, hear ye! Let it be known that the decision to drink as penance must not be entered into lightly. Sure, pain can be quite a good thing, and the redemption it brings is without price, but for heaven’s sake, there is a right way and quite a few wrong ways to go about this. You’ll want to drink enough that your prayers to the porcelain god are on their way that night, not the next morning. If you don’t start puking until the alcohol’s already left your system, you won’t stop puking for about a million years, as your body will decide, for some reason, that not even your own bilious secretions are fit to remain in your stomach. If your body won’t even let bile occupy your gut, there’s no chance that cup of water, bagel-half, or glass of mimosa you’ve got your eye on will stay down, either.

After a few hours of vomiting, you might be tempted to think that it’s over, and that you can safely have a sip of water to clean out the taste of your digestive tract from your mouth. Do not stray down this path, for whatever strays down your gullet, no matter how innocuous, will soon find itself being propelled upwards and out by peristaltic forces beyond your direct control.

On the plus side, after going through the type of ordeal discussed above, you’ll likely have forgotten all about whatever compelled you to mortify yourself; I can only imagine that this means absolution is yours. Also, remember that there’s no better way to celebrate the inauguration of your friend’s new deck than by vomiting off and under it. Vomit on the deck, however, and may God have mercy on your soul. Also sprach Zarathustra, or so I’m told.

In other news, I have mixed feelings about my first encounter with Smirnoff Sour-Apple Flavoured Vodka. On one hand, it’s delicious. On the other hand, reread the above and use your imagination. ^_^;;