The last time I threw up was October 5th. I was in St. Louis for the big Pearl Jam show. I'd had nothing but beer to drink ever since I reached the city limits, and after about eight hours of drinking, smoking, bad bar burgers, loud music, and too many people in too small of space, I puked in Humphreys' restroom, which is undoubtedly the most disgusting restroom I've ever been in.
Then I puked again in the hotel room, before passing out on the bed.
I woke up the next morning with a hangover and no breakfast, and had to find my way out of St. Louis with the biggest headache I've had in some time.
Sex, drugs, and rock n'roll, man. At least the last two. I probably could have scored that night, but running to the restroom in the middle of a conversation isn't really helpful getting into pants.
