Tag Archives: vomitola

The Ron Jeremy Moment

A few years ago, I found myself vomiting profusely for reasons unknown but likely related to a child picking up random stuff on the ground and then sticking her fingers in my mouth. It was the kind of endless anguish that left me atoning and bargaining. As I clutched the toilet bowl, heaving, I even tried positive psychology, which shows you how desperate I was.

I realized that while this was bad, it could be worse. Yes, I could be projectile vomiting while being simultaneously fucked in the ass by Ron Jeremy. I don’t know why my mind wandered there, but I actually felt better for a second. Word to the wise: it can *always* be worse.

Then a few months later, I ran across an excerpt from Ron Jeremy’s autobiography. Remind me to save up for the whole enchilada some day, it seems like a thing.

I read in horror, mouth slack, as he spun a yarn about shooting a scene on a boat with a lead actress so seasick that she was leaning over the rail vomiting.

Even Ron found this off-putting, but the show must go on: “If you’ve never had the chance to fuck a woman while she’s vomiting over the side of a ship, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Dreams really do come true. People are professionals. There you have it.

This vomit/fuck scenario became my personal yardstick (har har) for abject terribility. Is it a Ron Jeremy moment? We hope we never find out, but life typically imitates art. Especially today. Once you’ve looked over that rail, where do you go next? Well, according to Ron, back to shore to recover and fake some orgasm reaction shots. I’m still weighing my options.

Low and slow

How are we remaining healthy these days?

  • Regurgitation due to realization that calories in pills might cause weight gain.
  • Avoiding setting foot in Catholic churches, lest we explode. True story, I walked by one today, and I got this tingle in my thigh like one does right before spontaneous human combustion. I read about that in the Time-Life Mysteries of the Unknown series when I was nine. Beware the hot spot.
  • Springing for surgery in Thailand vs. the DIY version.
  • Daily consultation with Morrissey, who reminds us just how much worse life could be. At least three to five people love me!
  • Remembering that it’s almost Friday, the day sandwiched after Thursday but before Saturday. This concept is followed by the soothing or horrifying realization that all things are possible in America.

And all this healthy living is seriously threatened by Sunday, the worst day of the week, while we’re on the topic of the predictable and inexorable passing of time. You may think it’s Monday, or even Tuesday, but Sunday wields the power of dread, the very prod that stokes the fire of my soul.

If not for the eleven perfect minutes that elapse from my first sip of wine to the end of family dinner, I think I would opt out of Sundays. But then again, AFV is on! Tough call.

You Can Pin and Mount Me, Like a Butterfly

While Licketysplit is filling buckets, buckets full of love, I am covering the phones here. It reminds me of when we had a Sunday radio show. We were doing lesbian kisses before they invented them for TV. But that was only because we were hoping it might offend someone. Anyway, one time after the usual 4-hits-of-acid-saturday-wake-up-go-to-taco-bell-sunday, we arrived at the station and wolfed down some burritos. I played “the Choke” and “Lunchbox” while ol’ Skanky LaRue was off puking. Get well soon darling!

I am celebrating Valentines Day in a lofty fashion- by eating an enormous onion bagel with melted cheese and tomato. I assure you, it is a most romantic sandwich.

If I lack spirit today, it is because I threw a Valentine Ball at my house this weekend. We had a fog machine, a dazzling array of baked sweets, and a glass punch bowl filled with tequila. The walls were covered in construction paper hearts, heart tinsel, and red paper lantern lights. It was really beautifully done, thanks to the help of my roommates, and an opinionated six year old. Me and Echo hung hearts and decorated cupcakes in hot pink sugar and tiny red candy lips. The party itself was a whirl of dancing and cherry filled Kitty Dukkake. I am pretty sure I had a good time, for I recall delighted faces, dancing to “Xanadu”. I am also pretty sure I didn’t get into any fights, fall down the stairs, or start stroking my roommates’ chest hair and calling them “papi”.

Yesterday I was not awake for very long. Mainly long enough to watch Footloose, which I had never seen before. It has probably been a while for most of you, so let me remind you: Footloose is inexpressibly painful in its dorkiness. And while I love dancing movies, the one part of the body that I don’t want to see “loose” are the feet. Or that musical theater thing where people bow their legs, knees knocking back and forth. I must have a chat with you, 1980’s, and find out just what the hell we were all thinking. One interesting factoid about this film is that nearly all the cast went on to successful careers afterward. Mysterious. Since the film I am currently making is approximately 50 times as awful as Footloose, perhaps its release will catapult me into untold riches.

My future finances thus secured, I bought two import box sets of Morrissey singles, spanning decades of Morrissey. It is the age of Morrissey. All Morrissey, all day. Which is very fitting for Valentines Day. I think i will kick off the next hour with “Unloveable”. We’ll be right back after Licketysplit is done yodeling her groceries.


No picture, for I am pressed for time

Last night I had to wrangle a baby of my acquaintance because his mum had the pukes, which he thoughtfully gave to her. He’s all better, don’t worry. We made a pizza, and we had a nasty disagreement over how much oregano to use. Then he was still steamed about that, so I agreed to make him an Americano*. Once I finished, he was all “But I wanted that iced,” and I was all “Things that could have been brought to my attention YESTERDAY.”

But we patched it up with some active listening, and then he took his first steps! He doesn’t even reach 10 months for another few days. They were pretty half-assed steps, but they totally counted, and then he did them again. The secret to teaching a baby to walk is to dangle a Chinese menu just out of his reach.

He finally passed out in my lap after about 6 Baby Einstein DVDs. Those movies rule! They made me want to smoke so much oregano. I have to get him from daycare later. I think we will make homemade ice cream and sharpen all the knives in the knife block.

I hope I don’t catch the pukes. Also, I am out of oregano. No good can come of this.

*I did not really make coffee for a 10-month-old. We just ate frosting out of a tub from Costco, duh.

HAPPY 1985!

Well, it’s been a great year, but we at Vomitola eagerly welcome 1985. Did you drink too much last night? We may have. We know because we threw up in the shower this morning, and it didn’t even phase us.

1985 is shaping up to be pretty swell, what with the Perestroika and the 7.2% unemployment. We can’t wait to watch Kiss of the Spider Woman and see Madonna live! And just think, twenty years in the future, we’ll get to watch the Willy Wonka movie starring that nice Johnny Depp from A Nightmare On Elm Street. Can life be any sweeter? Count your blessings, you jerks!

We’re off to crash and dream of a 1300 Dow.


Recent events:

* attended most lackluster holiday parade ever. Floats included an ambulance, a snow plow, a city bus with the sign set to “happy holidays,” and a Toyota Tercel that apparently made a wrong turn into the parade route.

* could not look away from Nick & Jessica holiday special. SO GOOD. Jessica emoted like a well-meaning special education teacher, and it was truly mesmerizing to watch her lick a pole.

* saw Pixies. Damn, damn, damn.

* was vomited on.

* am only 357,000 extra calories from being morbidly obese!

* did not die of cancer, although a friend’s husband did. same friend’s parents were sucked out of a plane a few years ago. la la la, i have no problems. shut up shut up shut up.

What what?

Well, it’s August 5th. This is mostly significant because it’s the day before the milk in the fridge reaches its sell-by date. It is also significant because with each passing day, we draw closer to National Underwear Day. I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am by what we have planned here at Vomitola.

So that’s about it. I am sitting on the deck sucking up electrons and watching the brawny workers across the street. The cat just puked awfully close to my shoe, and did you ever solve something very difficult and just want to let someone know how awesome you are even though the other party won’t begin to understand? Well, I’m awesome.

The cops just pulled up in front of the house! This is not related to my awesomeness.