House party at St-Hubert

Once in awhile something happens that reminds us that we're not invincible. For me that something happened last night.

Oh what a night, oh what a mess!

It turned out - and I found out the painful way - that all those Friday drinks nights at Challenger weren't sufficient training afterall. Three bottles of Boris Cool and three vodka shots later, I passed out on the host' couch, only to be woken up not long after by an urgent wave of the aforementioned liquid travelling up from stomach to throat. The last time I vomited like that was in 1996, on the last day of high school, caused mainly by three shots of tequila (I still remember).

I guess doing things in three's doesn't work well for me.

Nevertheless, there is one positive thing about last night in the form of a new experience that, despite the disgusting image it conjures up, sounds rather cool to me: puking in snow - once you finish, just bury it in more snow to cover up your trail!