My Catalan Marriage Proposal
Last night was the most romantic night of my life.
Even if it was a little unorthodox. How you ask?
Well, let's just say that most people get down on one knee to propose.
Pete was down on both.
As was I.
I then realised it was true love ... when you've shared this experience with someone, nothing else can ever tear you apart. Let me explain...
It was a romantic evening. Having just arrived in Barcelona, Pete and I decided to stop for a quiet meal... a seafood paella. From a Chinese restaurant. Nothing unusual about that.
After dinner, we took a stroll through Las Ramblas, found a quiet little bar, stopped for a couple of cervecas and were home and in bed by 4am.
Fast forward until about 430am, when I wake up and think ... "Hmmm... something´s really wrong here." My stomach was completely cramping. I remember thinking "I hope it´s not the alcohol. Wait a minute, I only had 2 drinks ... Wow, what if someone spiked my drink... Maybe if I just lie here, the pain will go away."
And of course, the pain didn´t go away, in fact, it just got worse... Finally, I get up to go to the bathroom. The closest bathroom of 3 which were attempting to service the 100 or so people in our immediate living quarters. Which was of course locked. I knock on the door and hear a familiar voice.
A voice that reminded me of Pete's, except in far more pain, saying "Yeah, waddayawant?"
At this point, I'll relay Pete's point of view, as he words it far better than I ever could ...
"The first 2 minutes was spent trying to shit it out...unsuccessful...then the captain yelled down periscope, we´re surfacing, I grab the edge of the sink and proceed to expel the first third of my seafood paella,...sink just under half full...then I hear a knock on the door and a muffled groan¨"Pete is that you"...its grunners and he sounds like he is in as much pain as I was in. Then I hear him run to the next bathroom...then I decide it would be a good idea to lock the door and pull my pants up from my ankles.
The next half an hour or so would prove to be one of the finest tandem spews in history, I was lead guitar to Grunners rhythm guitar...if i may I want to just paint the picture for you all...the hostel floor is shaped like a square with a smaller square in the middle where all the windows pretty much face each other meaning sound pretty much travells everywhere....needless to say grunners and I woke up the ENTIRE FLOOR.
I could hear the poor bastard dry wretching and knew he was shoving his hand down his throat...about 15 minutes later groon knocks on the bathroom door again and in another painfull groan "pete give us the bog roll"...big mistake...after I exhaled round 2...the biggest of all...sink full...then I needed to crap, so went on a mission to the free bathroom to procure the only other bog roll on the floor...then went back and produced what can only be described as the most rotten thing that has ever come out of me...it smelled of rotten seafood...another knock on the door and a french accent "pissss"...my reply "fuck off mate i am spewing"....then I felt round 3 wanting to surface ... lucky for me and the cleaners it was small (but the most painfull)....surface tension of the spew holding it in the sink...here comes the most disguting bit, its 530am and I am wading through a sink full of chunder with my bare hands trying to unblock the fucking drain...throwing bits into the toilet...finally unblocked the thing and dragged myself out of the bathroom to see heads peeping out of all the doors along the corridoors...I went to find my new spew brother on the other side of the floor and this american dude goes to me "your buddys finished barfing"....then went to bed..."
Ah, love at first spew... Photos to come
Even if it was a little unorthodox. How you ask?
Well, let's just say that most people get down on one knee to propose.
Pete was down on both.
As was I.
I then realised it was true love ... when you've shared this experience with someone, nothing else can ever tear you apart. Let me explain...
It was a romantic evening. Having just arrived in Barcelona, Pete and I decided to stop for a quiet meal... a seafood paella. From a Chinese restaurant. Nothing unusual about that.
After dinner, we took a stroll through Las Ramblas, found a quiet little bar, stopped for a couple of cervecas and were home and in bed by 4am.
Fast forward until about 430am, when I wake up and think ... "Hmmm... something´s really wrong here." My stomach was completely cramping. I remember thinking "I hope it´s not the alcohol. Wait a minute, I only had 2 drinks ... Wow, what if someone spiked my drink... Maybe if I just lie here, the pain will go away."
And of course, the pain didn´t go away, in fact, it just got worse... Finally, I get up to go to the bathroom. The closest bathroom of 3 which were attempting to service the 100 or so people in our immediate living quarters. Which was of course locked. I knock on the door and hear a familiar voice.
A voice that reminded me of Pete's, except in far more pain, saying "Yeah, waddayawant?"
At this point, I'll relay Pete's point of view, as he words it far better than I ever could ...
"The first 2 minutes was spent trying to shit it out...unsuccessful...then the captain yelled down periscope, we´re surfacing, I grab the edge of the sink and proceed to expel the first third of my seafood paella,...sink just under half full...then I hear a knock on the door and a muffled groan¨"Pete is that you"...its grunners and he sounds like he is in as much pain as I was in. Then I hear him run to the next bathroom...then I decide it would be a good idea to lock the door and pull my pants up from my ankles.
The next half an hour or so would prove to be one of the finest tandem spews in history, I was lead guitar to Grunners rhythm guitar...if i may I want to just paint the picture for you all...the hostel floor is shaped like a square with a smaller square in the middle where all the windows pretty much face each other meaning sound pretty much travells everywhere....needless to say grunners and I woke up the ENTIRE FLOOR.
I could hear the poor bastard dry wretching and knew he was shoving his hand down his throat...about 15 minutes later groon knocks on the bathroom door again and in another painfull groan "pete give us the bog roll"...big mistake...after I exhaled round 2...the biggest of all...sink full...then I needed to crap, so went on a mission to the free bathroom to procure the only other bog roll on the floor...then went back and produced what can only be described as the most rotten thing that has ever come out of me...it smelled of rotten seafood...another knock on the door and a french accent "pissss"...my reply "fuck off mate i am spewing"....then I felt round 3 wanting to surface ... lucky for me and the cleaners it was small (but the most painfull)....surface tension of the spew holding it in the sink...here comes the most disguting bit, its 530am and I am wading through a sink full of chunder with my bare hands trying to unblock the fucking drain...throwing bits into the toilet...finally unblocked the thing and dragged myself out of the bathroom to see heads peeping out of all the doors along the corridoors...I went to find my new spew brother on the other side of the floor and this american dude goes to me "your buddys finished barfing"....then went to bed..."
Ah, love at first spew... Photos to come
posted by The Groin at 5:44 pm
1 Comments:
These are the experiences that bring lovers closer together. I hope the two of you are very happy together!
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