The Puddle

One morning in the geographic region of Switzerland Blake and I were making our way up to the train that we had to catch each morning just up the hill from our Hotel. I happened to discover something unusual on the right hand side of the road. I went to investigate, and puzzled over it for a moment until Blake let me know just what it was.
Blake forces out the words, "Dude, it's puke."
I recoil and return to our journey. Blake, I'm afraid, didn't recover quite so quickly. I continued to talk about the discovery much to Blake's dismay.
I say, "Man, the color of that, looked like fur..."
Blake whispers, "Dude, (Dry Heave) please no..."
He takes a deep breath and says, "I'll, (Dry Heave) be fine as soon as we (Dry Heave) get to the train..."
He continues, "That shiz is so (Dry Heave) nasty, someone (Dry Heave, Dry Heave) must have partied too long last night."
I mention "Dude, I think those were chunks of Dominiques bread in there!"
"(Dry Heave, Dry Heave, Dry Heave) DUDE!"
Blake did make it to the Train that morning without expelling any of his breakfast. Weak stomach, but strong will. Here's a picture of him fully recovered.


Here's another for posterity. I've put this as my desktop background.

Much Love,
Ben Evjen