In the 80's I lived in Australia. Sydney, Australia. They were about to have a big air show, just west of Sydney. So I decided to go. I love airplanes. It was also cool to photograph the spectators. Anyway, I drove out to Homebush, where the show was. Parked my car, and hopped on the shuttle bus over to the show. Well, close to the entrance was the end of the runway. The whole airport was sealed off by a fence. There were some young kids climbing through a hole in the fence at the end of the runway. Well, the inner child in me decided to hop off the bus and follow the kids. I crawled, commando style, with the kids, to the end of the runway. It was just in time to see a British tornado aircraft take off and go straight vertical, like a rocket ship, towards the sky. It was pretty cool and now I know why they call the plane the tornado. It was so loud it was unreal. Then, all of a sudden, the plane did what they call a fuel dump, into the afterburners. It creates a column of fire. The fire was heading down straight towards us. It all dissipated above us. It was far away from us, but it looked real cool. I could still feel the heat though. I sheepishly crawled back to the hole in the fence, thinking to myself, "Man, I'm getting to old for this shit."
You know, when you're in the hospital, you think of some weird stuff, just to pass the time. Now, if you're a little sensitive, you might not want to read any further. Sensitive, that is, to puke. Yes, I'm gonna tell you some puke stories. Something I thought of just to pass the time.
One time I was on a boat in the Caribbean heading out for a dive. There was a young kid right across from me in the dive boat. He had the regulator in his mouth. Well, the seas were really rough, and I think you might know where I'm going with this. Well, the kid looked rather green, and he threw up in his regulator. Now, I don't know if you know what a regulator is, but it's the round piece that fits in your mouth. There are two tubes on either side where the bubbles exit. Well, in this case, it was puke that was shooting out from both sides and hitting the people on either side of him. Well, this caused them to puke. Then, next, the other people started puking. It was a puke-fest. I quickly jumped off, which led to another story I told you earlier. Remember, I grabbed the wrong weight belt and didn't put air in by bc vest? I sank about 120 feet. But, that's another story.
Another time, I was sitting in my bedroom about to make out with a girl. I stared into her eyes. She stared into mine. I leaned over to kiss her, and she immediately puked and puked up into one of my cowboy boots. I still have those boots. Every time I put them on, I think of her.
OK, I'll just tell you two more stories. I think I told you this, but after a heavy night of drinking, we decided to go get some pancakes. This was about 4 in the morning. Well, I walked past this huge picture window, to go to the restaurant. Inside the restaurant, people were having pancakes, waffles, hot chocolate with whipped cream. Well, I stopped and just stared at everyone eating. They all looked like a cartoon from that cartoon strip called FarSide. They were all just shoveling food into their face. Well, I stood there for what felt like eternity, then started sweating. Of course, I puked all over the window, which mortified all the people inside. I then proceeded to fall into some bushes. It was the first time I ever got thrown out of a restaurant without even going into the restaurant.
OK, one more puke story. My friend was leaving a bar. He took out his car keys. I said, "No way you're driving home." He held his keys up and said, "Yeah, I am." I grabbed his keys and ran to his car. I hopped into his car, shut all the doors, locked all the doors, rolled up all the windows. He proceeded to chase me to his car, was pounding on the windows. All of a sudden he stopped pounding on the windows. He looked at me rather confused. He then proceeded to vomit all over the window and fall down. Thank god I had rolled up the window. My friend here said, "Oh Youth!" and I agree. It's fun to be a young idiot. And, yes, I was a young idiot. Wait a minute! I still am a young idiot.
I've got many more puke stories, but I'll save you from them.
This is B. Nice, signing off. Love, B. Nice
PS. Here's the link to my other blog where I talk about the present.