* Three sheets to the wind
* poisoned and pretty much
* Under the Weather...
Groundhog's day, 1994.
Honeymoon B and C flew in from St. Louis, Mo and we all drove up for the festivities.
You remember that Steve is from Punxsutawney, right?
On the way back driving through the winding country roads--
I was illing.
"pfool ofver,"I said. "ngow."
As I stumbled out to:
* Do a Technicolour Yawn
* Projectile Vomit
* Blow Chunks
* Do a Reversal of Fortune
* Pray to the Porcelain God
* Shout Europe at the sink--(this one is my favorite)
Steve stood by me at the side of the road, with his hand on my back.
Back in the car,
B and C were busy extolling the virtues of my kind and caring husband:
"Steve was so sweet to be rubbing your back like that."
"Are you kidding me? His hand was on my back to keep himself
from keeling over as he emptied his bladder."
On a bender, gagging and retching, my first (and last) Groundhog's day was punctuated by urine streaming inches beside my face.