Saturday, after a chunderthon. It's the sickest I've ever been while cold sober. I didn't even go out Friday night, felt queasy - then was woken from a deep sleep by an internal explosion that required a rush to the bathroom (only just made it with cheeks bulging, it's at the other end of the house from the bedroom). Back and forth over the next few hours, then when the dry heaves and retching subsided, the belching began.
It's a story to tell the grandkids. How you can live with the bathroom so far away from your room is a mystery. My ruler of thumb is to have in at most two rooms away.
Slartibartfast 