And sometimes, all it takes is a sneeze, or a cough...or a....(well you know where this one's going).
Due to the graphic nature of the following post, I am warning you now there will be talk of vile nasty things. If you like to believe in your perfect world that pretty girls don't fart, shit, vomit, or get diarrhea, EDGE, please move on to your next blog. This is not for you. (And really, I just don't want to hear about how 'gross' I am, because until you have JUST experienced what I have experienced...THEN AND ONLY THEN do you have the right to say SHIT to me about JACK. Umkay?)
I wrote these words in a journal, lying in my bed Wednesday after I had been visited for 12 hours by body snatching aliens.
'The aliens came for me today. My body was not my own. Do you remember the last time your body challenged your ass's ability to stay shut while vomiting furiously into the toilet? If you have ever in your life had to make the critical choice of whether you would rather A) shat, or B) vomit on yourself, because you can't do BOTH into the toilet at the same time...you remember. There seriously was a moment I considered just lying face down in the bathtub.
When I was 7 years old I had my first true taste of this sick joke. The ASS/VOMIT battle for porcelain. A sick, sick, result of a stomach/intestinal virus. Now let me tell you people. It is one thing to have your MOTHER clean up after you. Thankfully while I haven't had this experience since then, there was no way in hell I'd be having the same man who just the other day witnessed me in some very sexy thigh high leather boots -- clean up my shit (which THANK GOD never actually happened) off the floor. Ironically, weren't we just discussing this whole 'would you clean up after me if I shat myself' talk?? I must have brought it on myself...
Last night around 4am the first wave came sending me in a sprint to the guest bathroom. For the next 12 hours it went a little something like this.
Rinse. Lather. Repeat. No wait, I must be delirious...silly me, it was...
Shit. Vomit. Sleep for an hour. Repeat.
Sometimes all overlapping one another.
There is something incredibly disturbing about the sensation of peeing from your ASS. BUT IT HAPPENS GOD DAMMIT, so don't sit there acting like you have no idea what the fuck I am talking about.
This is not what nature had intended.
I am lying in bed, writing for my blog, experiencing a hell of some funk, thinking to myself 'if this shit (pun intended) happens to me in India, or in the middle of BFE Patagonia, I will seriously want to DIE.'
Well I survived. And the reason why I am compelled to tell you about this in the first place is because SHITTY LIFE EXPERIENCES should be shared. And I had THE SHITTIEST 12 HOURS OF MY LIFE just now...and this is my blog, and I'll say what I want to say. I can say with confidence, that Finance, has officially see me at my WORST.
I would not wish Alien Abduction upon my worst enemy. It's no joke people. No joke at all...
Edge. Are you still with us?
**In other news, I used Finance's deodorant this morning because I was out of mine, and I totally think I'm going to puke.
***I had ANOTHER dream about Jessica Simpson last night. She was in distress and I was helping her out. Her boobs were huge. What could this mean???
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