I hate puking
I went out for lunch yesterday, and I had delicious salmon skewers. Two hours later I was cold, clammy, and void of any color in my face. Came home, crawled in bed, and made it a whole hour before jumping back out in a dash for the loo. I've learned I can make it from bed to porcelain in three steps, assuming my aim is true. I'm lucky English houses are so small.
My head aches, my stomach seems to be speaking Russian, and I want to die.
Puking sucks.
My head aches, my stomach seems to be speaking Russian, and I want to die.
Puking sucks.
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