I Haven't Puked Since 1987

And I don't plan to. But as is Thanksgiving tradition, after hanging out with my young nephews over the holiday I've been knocked on my ass by a bug of some sort.

They were sick on Thanksgiving, one of them was throwing up constantly, and now they've stuck me with it. What is it with these kids and carrying around illnesses? Their parents become immune and then perfectly innocent uncles get victimized. Not cool.

The government would like us to believe that AIDS was spread by a gay flight attendant. Not true. It was some kids who had a play date with a bunch of monkeys, and then the monkeys fucked them.

The bummer is that I finally have some time off and have to spend it laying in bed and being miserable. Although in fairness, that was pretty much what I had planned regardless of health.

I don't recall the circumstances of my last puke. I don't know what I ate or what the problem was, but I remember sitting up in my bed in the middle of the night and vomit launching out of my nose and mouth simultaneously. Come to think of it, a pasta dinner may have been involved cause I've had an aversion to fusilli ever since.

It was horrifying. I made a vow at that moment that I would never puke again. That still stands today, and is the reason I'm known as the Cal Ripken of ralphing.

But I am hurting right now. I just hope I can keep the promise I made to myself so long ago. You know what they say, you sit out one day with a barf and the next thing you know you get Wally Puked, er, Pipped.