I have fond memories of drinking a concrete mixer, followed by the immediate ejection of the contents of my stomach, which amounted to 20 beers and a plate of chips. Luckily most of the group of people I projectile vomited on were strangers, and I was able to pretend it wasn't me by walking into the public bar and throwing up in there to the amusement of a few punters.
At this time I changed tact and just denied knowing anything about the spewed on people in the lounge bar, the puddle of spew in the public bar, the spew on my chin or the spew down my jumper.
At which time the bar manager told me he had just seen me pull of the entire stunt, so I called him a liar and challenged him and his staff to some good old fashioned fisticuffs.
ah yes, fond memories.
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