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It was Christmas time and I was home in NY visiting family. Celebrations were plentiful as my family loves to drink. I had been a little constipated during the trip and decided to take a "gentle" laxative to fix things before I started drinking. Well the laxative didn't take affect right away and my anxiety started to rise. I thought to myself, there is no way the mixture of alcohol and laxative can be a good thing...well I was right. Around 4 am I started cramping, it woke me out of a sound sleep. I went to the bathroom and tried to go...nothing. Frustrated, I headed back to bed. Twenty minutes later, another poop cramp...this time worse than before. Got up, went to the bathroom.... nothing. This back and forth stuff went on for 2 hours. Finally around 6 am I got so fed up I stormed into the bathroom with a mission. I bit my lip dropped my drawers and pushed as hard as I could...nothing. I tried again, this time I started to feel queasy and trying to ignore the vomit rising in the back of my throat I pushed again...nothing. Realizing that I was going to hurl I pulled what appeared to be a trashcan in front of me. Sweating and pale a rush of vomit came soaring up my esophagus, the contraction of my stomach muscles also pushed against my bowels. Whatever was blocking the waste in my intestines came loose and shot out of my ass like a cannon! As I sat there heaving my guts out of both ends I realize the thing I was hurling into was not a trashcan, but rather an empty flowerpot. I sat on the toilet wet with perspiration as the vomit seeped from the bottom of the pot. It took me almost an hour to clean up the mess - and a day to recover from the tragedy.
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