My sister�s beautiful children have unleashed their amoebas on me, resulting in more puke than I can remember ever ejecting. Every 45 minutes, all night long, there was a major gushing. I couldn�t help but laugh between the heaves and pitiful sobs because I know that my family thinks there�s nothing funnier than that noise someone makes as the first wave comes up. Luckily all of those assholes were sleeping while I did my spewing.

If the bathroom wasn�t Kyle-ified, I�d have slept on the cool tile in there instead of making a mad dash from a dead sleep the moment I tasted the pre-puke bile.

Poooooor me. Pooooor, pooooor me.

After an entire day spent sleeping in my sister�s childhood room, I�m finally starting to feel alive. I made a point to pick up the room since the cleared path to the door was starting to annoy me during my frequent trips to the bathroom. Everything�s now in order, and I�m starting to eye a box of Wheat Thins, dangerously aware that eating is just asking for it to be up-chucked.

I�m going to tempt fate. I hope both of our nights are nice and quiet. �