Did I tell you I have a group of friends that inexplicably call me sugar muffin? Alas, this is not my secret.
Put on your Sunday's best and a crazily feathered church hat, it's Secret Sunday.
I will start us off. Today, as we're all popping our secret cherry (Secret Cherry would be a great all girl band name, but I digress) I will happily take credit for my secret. When I throw in something a little more awful, I may decide to blend in with the crowd. Here goes.
I once vomited in a girl's hair out of anger.
What? Yes. Shit just got real.
For the record, I am not a vomiter. Have maybe vomited 10 times in my life. In fact, my earliest and most vivid childhood memory was going down a plastic slide in my room, hitting my tummy on the floor, vomiting, and being so terrified because I didn't know what the hell it was. Didn't even vomit as a baby.
Twas 1998, at the Tibetan Freedom Concert in D.C. It was glorious, minus all those people being struck by lightning (my one memory of our now departed Beastie Boy was him getting on stage and imploring everyone to get the fuck out) and the puke incident.
There were two stages in a ginormous stadium. I was innocently standing towards the front of one of these stages at a moment where no one was playing, both stages were being set up, and I had lost track of who was to perform where. There was a crowd, but everyone was pretty quiet and had a decent amount of personal space. I was behind two very calm young ladies bedazzled with black clothing, an alarming number of holes in their faces and the air of desperation one can only associate with desperately trying to be cool.
In about 10 seconds, 3 things happened:
- Radiohead walked out & started playing "Karma Police".
- Everyone started pushing.
- The holey-faces lost all of their cool-airs and morphed into matching psychotic tweens in such a way that can only be described as "Bieberesque".
Me no likey getting pushed. Suddenly everyone is so close that if someone 30 feet away from me sneezes, 400 people get shoved to the ground by the sheer force. If I let out a gentle fart, I would knock down the person behind me. I'm 5 foot 2 - I instantly know I am in trouble, and am now sinking in a sea of people where I will inevitably drown.
Holey faced girls are now jumping up and down, flailing their arms about in a muppety fashion, like Jesus has just personally arrived in a Pentacostal Church. Looking for an out, I see a security person on the sidelines 5 feet away who is motioning for me to get to him. As I'm staring at him bugeyed and silently plea "help me!" one of the holey faced girls elbows me in my stomach. Hard.
Mind you, never in my life have I really been able to vomit even when I'm nauseous. If I tried to make myself throw up, I would probably fail. But as G-d is my witness, in this one moment, I thought "I'm going to vomit on that chick".
I threw up in her hair. Anger vomit.
I then grabbed her by the back of said hair, and as her knees began to buckle I put my foot on the back of her knee, and propelled myself using the hair-vomit-knee combo. I flew into the arms of the security guard who quickly said "that was awesome" and then carried me out.
It has been 14 years since this happened and while I love Radiohead, to this day every now and again "Karma Police" makes me nauseous.
And now the amazing made-me-die secrets of others:
From Rosy Red:
Who doesn't have a "got caught having sex" story to tell? Well, here's mine. I was having hot sexy-sex with my boyfriend in college late one night (in the living room) while we thought his roommate was out for the night. We were both naked, (and I note this because the older I get it seems the less clothes I take off. But you know, when I was a hot college chick, the clothes never stayed on.) Any-koot, I was on top when his roommate comes urgently out of his room for a drink. I had never seen my boyfriend move so fast. He flipped me over to cover me with his own bare naked arse, and we waited for his roommate to leave, trying to quiet our panting breaths. I couldn't see anything, but the next thing we both heard was him smack against the wall and react, "oh, that's a wall!" I think he figured out what was going on and didn't want to turn on the light. My embarrassment was lightened...a little.
From an Anonymoose:
I actually pit people against each other at work rather frequently and then sit back and watch the train wreck in front of me. I love watching the fights that ensue! I don't make anything up, but I use the knowledge that I have to cause problems. Maybe it is because otherwise work is pretty boring so I need some entertainment?? Maybe I am a drama queen at heart?? I just can't help myself, though!
From The Porcupine:
When I was 6 years old, I did a big poo in a potty. Then I stuck all sorts of Barbie doll accessories in it, like tennis racquets, golf clubs, shoes etc. It looked like a porcupine.
From EmHart (who is now a personal hero):
I used to be a life model, for about three years at various places, and I absolutely loved doing it and I would love to get back into it again.
I love picking my nose because I feel like I'm saving the environment by not wasting tissues. But I ALWAYS wash my hands after and always do it in the privacy of my home! I never touch anything without washing them!! Although one time I did wipe one on someone's back who made me really mad when they weren't looking but I felt really guilty after.
From an Anonymouse:
I do not enjoy anal sex because whenever it comes out it makes me feel like I'm taking a poo.
I am making this a weekly thing. This is my new Church. Therefor, if you do not become a member I will show up at your door when you least expect it, perky and carrying pamphlets. Drink the koolaid.
When you think of something to share, send me an email and I will add it the following Sunday.
Purge yourself, much like a short girl at an overcrowded concert.