How much chuck could a chick chuck up?

I have been blessed with some pretty awesome physical attributes.  Thighs of concrete, hair of frizz, puku of jelly.  But foremost amongst these must surely be my cast iron stomach.  I can pretty much eat anything with little or no ill effects.  What can I say? I think my tum-tum just really appreciates food in all its forms (be they fresh or otherwise).  And despite having had a history of serial Saturday night drunkenness (because when you're in your 20s this is the best approach to handling any social situation), I can probably count on one hand the number of times that this has led to pukey unpleasantness.  I'm just not a spewer.  I think it's because my body wants to hang on to the calories so it can turn them into muffins or something.

But this week there have been several things that have made me feel chunderous.  Steel your stomach, dear reader, and I'll tell you about them.

Pukes-calle West - Earlier this week I saw a severely hung-over girl throw up in a policeman's face.  Fortunately this occurred during the latest episode of Outrageous Fortune rather than Police Ten 7 so it wasn't actual vom, nor was it an actual policeman for that matter.  Still it was a pretty tremendous thing.  Upon witnessing this I was struck by the fact that I could be in two warring states of mind at once.  A goodly portion of my brain (and some muscles in my stomach area) were going "Blergh. Yuck. Gah" while another less refined part was reduced to "Ha! *snort* Haa haa haaaaaaaaaaaa!" Two seemingly incompatible emotions cohabiting in my brain.  If my noggin were a bar called Cheers, Sam and Diane would be bickering over it in there.  But such is the power of theatrical projectile vomiting that it truly can be simultaneously sickening AND funny.  It is what  I like to call "the vomedy effect".

The Human Centipede - Ever since I saw the trailer to this weird body modification Euro-horror I have been tortured by the premise of it.  The main idea behind the movie and intent of the "Mad professor" villain are the definition of an idea that once present in a mind simply cannot be removed.  I wish I'd never watched that stupid trailer and I may well bear a grudge against David Farrier for the rest of my days.  I'm not putting in a link to it here.  If you haven't already seen it then I have confidence you'll be able to find it.  Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Oh, and though I wish to the very core of my being that this film had never been imagined, let alone made, I absolutely support the right of anyone to go and see it if they want to.  I don't want it censored.  I just want it removed from my brain in an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind type way.

Li-Lo plays "get out of jail free" card - So Lindsay Lohan gets sent to jail (about time), and finds God.  Honestly, as if there aren't enough churches for Him to hang out in.  Why are people always finding Him in prison?  Isn't He supposed to be everywhere?  Just one time I would like a celebrity to be sent to jail and say that they suddenly understood the art of Georgia O'Keefe, or the joys of bench-presses, or discovered a real talent for tattooing.  Finding God in prison is like holidaying in Spain and ordering fish and chips for every meal.  You could have just done that at home, couldn't you? 

Apparently they're letting her out now.  How predictable.  Spew.

That's not really an update, you know - Recently I read the following Facebook status update in my feed  -

♥ ♥ If you have a wonderful man who is your whole world, who isn't perfect, but is perfect for you, who works hard and would do anything for you, that makes you laugh, who is your best friend and who you are thankful for everyday. Then post this as your status ♥ ♥ xo

In the interests of keeping the stomachs of everyone on the internet in a settled state, I do feel an obligation to contradict the action suggested here.  DO NOT PUT THIS SORT OF THING ON YOUR FACEBOOK PAGE. EVER.

Look, I think it's great that you're happy and all.  I really do.  And those really are lovely sentiments WHICH SHOULD STAY IN YOUR HEAD.  I have zero interest in having someone else's sentimental, lovey-dovey crap flung at me.  I buy blank greeting cards for a reason.  And I'm not being a hypocrite. Remember when I had a boyfriend and you didn't?  Did I sprinkle my happy-happy-joy-joy cutesy-wutesiness all over you?  No, I did not.  Well, maybe just a teensy bit, but even hardened cynics like me are liable to have a small leak of genuine human emotion from time to time. 

That said, that status update made me make unattractive retching noises,  and what's more, if you take out the word "man" and substitute "insane teenage girl" that's practically a Justin Bieber song.  Just saying.

So, does any of the above affect you in the stomach churning way it does moi?  If not, what are the things that have you on a one-way ticket to regurgitation station? 

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