Today marks the 27 year anniversary of the last time I puked. Yes, no lie. Caught wicked food poisoning on this day in 1980 at a Ho Jo's eating what seemed my weight in fried clams (I was 11) while on vacation with my family and pretty much said, this shit isn't for me after a night of baptizing my parents hotel room.
Part phobia, part pepto, part willpower, part luck... 27 years later my record stands up.
Yeah I've had the flu, yeah I've been drunk plenty of times and yeah I've had other cases of mild food poisoning since that fateful day... but the dozens of times I could have been sick, and I've come DAMN close, it just didn't happen.
So please drink a shot of bile in my honor
