(Warning: this is really gross)

So after hosting a successful Wrestlemania Party on Sunday (OK, it was me and my buddy Chris, but we had fun), I was feeling a little funny. I just wrote it off as eating too much pizza and tried to go to bed. But I soon woke up and came to that terrible realization: I had to barf.

This was a sizable event, because I never vomit. Perhaps due to never drinking in excess, and an iron stomach, I had not vomited since freshman year of college (not due to drinking, I was just under the weather). It had been over a decade since I last drove the porcelain bus.

And vomit I did. “Blew chunks” is probably more appropriate. And no, I didn’t make it to the toilet quite in time.

Well, that was it, right? I probably just some bad salsa. But no, sadly, I got up and vomited four more times during the night.

Also, I had Super Diarrhea (TM American Dad) during the night as well, sometimes while I was vomiting (don’t ask for more details).

I called in sick the next day, which I never do. Thankfully around noon the storm had calmed, so to speak, and I slept all day. I even slept through the Red Sox opening game, which, looking at the results, wasn’t the worst idea.

I’m all better now, thank you. No idea what caused me to get this bug, but I did eat at a salad bar on Sunday. Maybe the sneeze guard just didn’t guard well enough…

(Told you this was gross)