So, as is the case with most vacations, at least one member of the vacation party must at some point tangle with the fury of Le Vomitmonster. Its, like, a going-on-vacation rule or something, right? Anyway, as my luck would have it, last night it turned out that *I* was that unfortunate, pathetic sap. And it occurred to me, during my dance of near-death with every porcelainized receptacle in our beach house household, that in my own meager experience there are at least three very distinct and wholly separable types of puking: 1. The Illness Puke: You have the flu...
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