I was thinking yesterday about how there is always puke in parking lots. Why people must puke in a parking lot, no one knows, but usually, someone is going to get sick, standing upright, watching their liquidy chunks splash to the floor. It gets on their shoes, all over their faces - pretty little girls are marred by nastiness and stink. Filth and dirty indigestible bile! In an unholy amount! In a Smith's parking lot! I obviously thought of this because I had to jump over a wet pile last night. It was exciting.
Vomit is always with us, you know? I have seen & heard so many people throw up, I might as well have been in a frat the last 5 years. It's funny, when people are puking, you're trying to console them - holding hair, rubbing their back - but when I'm throwing up, I ultimately decide that yes, this is the day that I am supposed to die. I will die by my convulsing stomach plopping out my mouth like a thick fish. There's not any consolation there. And all that acid - bluuuh. Burning! Acid! Burning! I hope I start a Jerry Seinfeld-like streak in which I don't throw up for 9 years. Let's hope Big Baby J don't come a-hallowin' down the old birthin' tube. Else mornin' sickness would ruin the streak!
It has just occurred to me that in the past two days I have discussed not only thong-injuries, but now, the extensive description of throw up.
Ahhh, never a dull day with Cobb. Never a dull day.