During my life I’ve managed to vomit in many interesting places, including (but not limited to) a prom, a high school classroom, a comedy club, a carnival, and a wedding. And two of those, I think it’s important to note, had nothing to do with alcohol.
But only once, during my illustrious puking career, can I recall throwing up inside a car. I find this to be fairly remarkable, since I’ve surely logged more than a million miles of drinking beer inside moving vehicles. You’d think I’d be able to come up with a Top Ten list. But it just ain’t the case.
The sad thing? I was a full-blown adult when it happened; I was no dumbass teenager. I was living in Atlanta, with a wife and a mortgage. I was probably 30 or 31 years old.
We used to go “out to dinner” with another couple during those days, and would always end up at some bar, drinking to massive excess. Well, Toney has never been a big drinker… But she’d have a few, and the rest of us would have many more than a few.
One time (not the night of the car puking) the other couple called us, after eight o’clock at night, and said they’d rented a suite at the Hotel Nikko. One of them had been promoted at work, and they were celebrating. They invited us to join them at that fancy-ass place, for a few drinks.
They were drunk when we arrived, and the guy had somehow charmed the hotel staff into sneaking in free booze. He was always talking to people, and getting them to do his bidding. He was the type who could go into a bar, meet some unknown couple, and end up staying at their vacation home in Switzerland for a week. When you started drinking with him, you literally couldn’t predict what might happen.
During that Hotel Nikko extravaganza, we had expensive champagne, all sorts of top-shelf liquors, and many, many beers. All compliments of junior staff members, who, for some reason, felt compelled to keep sneaking it in to us… It was a crazy, unforgettable evening. Like something out of a rap video.
There was some puking, too. But not by me or Toney. When that started, we excused ourselves and Toney drove us home. Once someone goes humpback over a toilet… it’s time to go. I think that’s in the New Testament.
On the night of the car-puking, the four of us had gone “out to dinner,” and ended up at the original Vortex bar, in midtown. It was winter, and very cold outside. We were drinking way too much, as usual, and ended up playing Monopoly with a homeless man.
For the novelty of it, I guess, we’d waved in some street person, and started buying him beers. And eventually someone broke out a board game. It’s all very fuzzy in my memory…
And on the drive home history was made. I rolled down the window, and let loose of my stomach contents (90% Rolling Rock, 10% pizza for coloring). And once I got going, I had a hard time powering down the vomit pump. Toney was driving, and hollering in protest. And it seemed like it went on for a long, long time.
When we got home, I stumbled into the house and went to the bathroom. And when I looked in the mirror I had a Phantom of the Opera mask of upchuck on the right side of my face. It had hardened like the Dairy Queen chocolate sauce they dip cones in. Well, actually, it was more like the butterscotch variety…
After I got myself reasonably cleaned up, I noticed Toney never came in. So, I went back outside and she had a hose out and was washing our car. At 2 a.m. The whole back door and rear quarter panel was covered in vomit, on the passenger side.
For some reason, she wasn’t very happy with me. This happened about twenty years ago, and she still brings it up from time to time.
And that’s the extent of my experience with throwing up in cars. What about you? Do you have any tales to tell on this subject? If so, please use the comments link below.
If you have no car-puke stories, then just tell us about the most unusual places you’ve vomited. It doesn’t have to be booze-related, remember.
And I hope you guys have a great holiday.
I’ll try to update again on Saturday or Sunday. I have a couple of new Nancy stories to report, so we’ll do that next time.
See ya soon!
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada
It’s about time too!! You don’t call…don’t write. Worrying us sick. Glad you’re back!!
Nice with the butterscotch visual. Reminds me of a leather jacket my mom bought me for christmas. It was butterscotch in color…would it have killed her to get me black leather? Anyway I vomited all over that ugly jacket shortly after receiving it. The stank would never come out of the satin lining. I wore that jacket anyway. It made my mom happy.
Yes! I would also like a question to be:
If you did vomit in a car, how did you get the smell out? If ever.
A few friends with toddlers would like to know:)
Patty (In Cleveland) says
Can’t Imagine why she would have been unhappy with you
My only car puke was while skipping (another) day of high school. (I wonder what the record is for number of days? I should check into it)
Anyways, pounding beers all day from 8:00AM until 3:00PM. We start to head towards home in my Mom’s car with my buddy driving. After 24 beers I let loose out the window while traveling down a busy 2 lane road. Cars, beeping in a not amused way. I barely remember my friend at the car wash trying to make the car presentable enough to go home.
hot fuzz says
Barfing and cars definitely does not mix. You’re guaranteed to have one sober person (unless you’re a bunch of completely irresponsible morons) and that person also seems to be the designated barf cleaner upper…
I’ve also done probably less than my share of the technicolor yawn…camping…at the in-laws cottage (oops)…after a long overdue night out with the boys…. but never in a moving car. I guess it adds a nice lateral dimension as well; not just the straight down or projectile arc.
But, don’t you just feel better once you’ve purged the toxins? Puke breath aside.
The ole “Power Yawn”
I can’t remember having a yak attack in a car. The worst place I puked at was in the alley behind Mario’s and Blue Lou’s. A bar in the South Side in PGH. Too many tequila shots with a platter of linguini and clam sauce thrown in for texture. It hit me so fast, my boyfriend took me right through their kitchen and out to the alley. Right by the dumpster. That was back in the 80’s. I have since grown up and have become quite the lady…only ralphing into porcelain now.
hot fuzz says
with a raised pinky no doubt 🙂
Oh, I gots a good one. I’ll be back with it later.
I had a damn near similar experience as Jeff except it was a mix of wines (cheap – rose, white and who knows what else) while driving back from some Holiday dinner at my aunt’s. The only problem was, I was underage and my dad was driving. BUSTED! It felt like every single mile I had to have him pull over so I could puke out the side of his Oldsmobile. Oh, and I’m one of 6 kids. All cramed in the back. Yeah, I got my ass handed to me.
Thank God you had a window seat!
In a 1967 Dodge Dart driving on Dry Ridge road at probably 3-4AM I puked “Mr. Creosote” style out the window…while driving. I wasn’t drunk enough to cause a puke session. I’m convinced that it was something I ate coupled with a great deal of beer.
I remember drinking more afterwards, because, you know, puking just ruins your buzz. Those were the days my friends.
Joe T. says
In my dad’s Gran Torino after my junior prom. Someone drove me home. I don’t remember going into the house, but when I woke up my mother asked, “What did you have at the prom?”
Me: “Steak and a potato.”
Her: “What about green beans?”
Me: “Yeah, why?”
Her: “Because they’re IN THE CAR!”
She then threw a wet washrag at me and told me to clean it out.
The Qweezy Mark says
Why did I have to get Mono and miss that ?!
Bill in WV says
I “think” I did that once. However, my dumb ass, it didn’t occur to me to not look toward the front of the vehicle when I stuck my head out the window. I was told I looked like somebody had mixed up a bowl of oatmeal and just threw the whole bowl in my face. Drunk and stupid is no way to go through life. I done growed up now, though, and coordinate my hurls.
Harley Squirrelnuts says
Riding with my boss en route to a forest fire I puked out the window of his truck and onto his dog who was riding in the box.
Not sure how I survived drinking that much, sleeping that little and working in the heat. Sure as hell couldn’t do it today.
My first moving vehicle puke was 2nd grade on the morning school bus. I told my mom I did not feel well. She did not believe me.
I felt it coming but somehow thought I could hold it down?
I soon realized my fate. The children started yelling at the bus driver (Catholic kids) and she stopped, got me off the bus “for fresh air” , and cleaned me up a bit.
My mom was later called at work to come pick me up.
I puked in a monastery. Alcohol was involved.
The Qweezy Mark says
My most disastrous to other people was probably while leaning on the newspaper machine right at the entrance to Denny’s while other people were coming in from the bars @ around 1am.
Joe T. says
Welcome to Denny’s. Enjoy your meal.
The Qweezy Mark says
Hah! You said “meal.” ( don’t even know what that means @ 10pm PST on July 3rd!)……Happy 4th MutherFuckers!
Took me six hours to get from Reno to Tahoe once. (long time ago). Its only an hour drive. I was so hungover, still drunk and really didn’t care if I died right there in Carson City. I kept having to pull over and heave. Every five or ten minutes. I was alone and had to keep going. On the way up the mountain to Tahoe it only got worse as the oxygen thinned out..
Warren Ferguson says
I was going to tell about after the VA Tech – University of Virginia game in Charlottesville circa 1980. (I’m a classes Hokie) After passing out in Mr. Jefferson’s parking lot with my hand in the ice cooler I developed a case of projectile vomiting en route to the hotel. It was pattering all over the interior windshield and dashboard . Considering I was sitting in the rear seat the driver and his date/passenger weren’t too happy.
I thought that was my best but I then remembered I had done almost the exact same thing in 1958 while attending Ferrum Jr. College while celebrating St. Patrick’s Day by drinking green beer.
My wife thinks I should place high in the “vomit and keep going” category when a couple of co-workers and Drank a case of Rose wine in the work parking lot and I went home and worshipped the porcelin thrown.
Since we had paid for front row seats to a Mere.Haggard/Charlie Pride concert in their prime probably in the early 70’s I sucked it up and made the concert. Fortunately she was able to sneak in enough cold Buds in her large pocketbook for me to regain my balance and finish the night.
My most horrifying didn’t involve a vehicle. After a night of celebrating (?!) the existence of the Almight Colorado Mo’Fo (Kahlua, Vodka, Rum, Milk & Coke), I left a rather horrifying trail from the bar (through the city park) – and up the hill to my college dorm room. All told, it was about 3 miles. I never did THAT again.
A friend of mine tried to vomit out of a moving car…and got it INSIDE the door frame instead. We tried cleaning with pine sol, air fresheners, you name it. By the time we were finished, it smelled like someone threw up a fruit salad in a pine forest. We ended up having to take the door apart and ‘detailing’ it with rubbing alcohol and Q-Tips.
When you’re puking out of a car window, you know you’re succeeding when the car behind you has its wipers going. Just sayin’.
My best car puking story: we had one friend who never seemed to get REALLY drunk like the rest of us but liked to make fun of us when we did so on his 21st birthday we made it our mission to make sure it happened for him. It’s February and the four of us head downtown in my ’77 Monte Carlo. We get to the bar, it’s packed and about 100 degrees inside and we immediately start buying him shots – the trick being that only one of us is drinking each round with him. Basically he’s doing 3 shots to our 1. After a while we decide it would be funny to start ordering weird shit for him. Things go south quickly. About an hour later we get him back to the car and head for home. Now our route takes us through one of the really really expensive neighorhoods. Birthdayboy is in the passenger seat getting sicker by the minute, myself and my partner-in-crime Backseatboy (who is about 6’7″ and over 300 pounds) are in the backseat laughing our asses off at the situation. After a few minutes, he starts poking Birthdayboy and flicking his ears. Suddenly, Birthdayboy turns his head and in the closest-to-a-demon-from-the-netherworld voice I’ve ever heard says “Don’t you touch me… don’t – you – fucking – touch – me.” Needless to say, this starts us howling with laughter. At this point, Birthdayboy tells our designated driver to pull over, he has to go to the bathroom. Driverboy, who is also Birthdayboy’s roomate, tells him where we are, that these are multimillion dollar homes and that he can’t just be pissing in their yards. Birthdayboy tells him that if he doesn’t pull over, he will piss in the car and none of us doubt him. So we pull over in the middle of the next block, as far from streetlights as we can get and Birthdayboy dives out of the car almost before we’re stopped. So we sit and wait. And wait. And wait. Finally Driverboy tells us to stay where we are and he’ll go get him. At this point I vaguely remember thinking that we’re two large drunk guys, sitting in an illegally parked car, lights out, no driver, ritzy neighorhood, and if a policeman happens by, we are definitely going to jail. Luckily, two forms stumble out of the darkness – Driverboy cussing loudly and Birthdayboy with his pants around his ankles. Driverboy throws Birthdayboy in the car, gets in himself, and takes off. At this point, a distinct odor permeates the car. Driverboy informs us that Birthdayboy was not pissing in a rich person’s yard, he was crapping. This sets us off again, at which point Birthdayboy turns, holds up his crap-covered hand and informs us that, “My right hand is saying WHEEEEE-OW!!!” This pushes over the edge and we laugh so hard that Backseatboy actually passes out briefly. We’ve still got about 10 blocks to home and in that time Birthdayboy manages to vomit out the window at least 3 times. Finally we get home and find that Birthdayboy’s upstairs neighbors have picked tonight to have a huge party so there are people everywhere, including Driverboy’s girlfriend who, apparently feeling he has done his duty for the night, abandons us. So now there are the two of us from the backseat – very drunk – trying to get Birthdayboy – incoherently drunk – into his apartment. We have to hold him up so we rely on him to hold his pants up but he can’t seem to figure this out so at one point we’re standing in front of a group of 5 or 6 attractive young ladies. Now we are so drunk we can barely function but we know enough to use our friends condition as an excuse to talk to these girls. This goes well for about 30 seconds until Birthdayboy, who as been almost comatose since we got out of the car, drops his pants, lifts his head and projectile vomits all over them. The wrong thing to do at this point is laugh hysterically but that’s what we do anyway. Now we’re dragging him towards his door, girls are crying, his neighbors are angry, people are threatening to call the cops on us, we’re laughing so hard we can barely see and we realize we have to somehow get him down a flight of stairs to his apartment. Not surprisingly we fail miserably and are relieved to find he is still alive when we catch up to him at the bottom of the stairs. We somehow throw him in his bed and collapse ourselves. We wake up at somepoint in the night to bad noises coming from the bedroom and consider calling 911 before passing out again. In the morning, we flip a coin to decide who will check on him because we are both quite sure he is dead. Luckily he isn’t and we have a story to torture him with for the rest of our lives. Youth is so wasted on the young…
Damn, that was epic!
Big Bear In OH says
My favorite car puke stories actually involve my dad–I had just turned 15 1/2, meaning my parents could use me for a DD for all the special occasions they both wanted to get blitzed at, so New Years Eve rolls around, and the old man starts drinking Irish coffees, heavy on the whiskey. Time to go home, he loads my 10 year old brother behind him and my mom behind me and tells me to conduct his Bonneville home. About halfway home, he tells me to stop the car, because he needs to throw up. Unfortunately, there’s a DUI checkpoint about 500 feet ahead, so I can’t just stop and let him puke in front of the local police, so we get past the checkpoint and back up to speed, and he tells me to roll down the window, he needs to throw up. I hit the switch and roll down both the windows on that side of the car, he throws up out the window, it catches the wind and smacks right back in the back window into my brother’s face and all over the inside of the car. He had to hose my brother down in 30 degree Ohio cold and hose down the car as well. Possibly the funniest drive home ever, and we still bust on my brother about it.
My other fun puke story is on my buddy’s 21’st birthday, we fed him so many shots, I found him with his head against the dumpster outside a bar, with ALL the blood vessels blown out in BOTH his eyes. Looked pretty creepy for a couple weeks.
I can attest to that… I was said friend with blood-red eyes. It was a good thing it was really dark in the strip club the next night, otherwise those nice ladies might have thought I was posessed.
Phil Jett says
I was in school in upstate NY in the 80’s and on Thursdays Barclay’s in Saratoga Springs had dollar Long Island ice teas. I woke up the next morning in my brand new Ford Ranger in some unknown person’s driveway and it appeared I had tried to puke out the window. The problem was I never got it completely opened. The entire inside of the door was covered in puke, as was my face and the seat.
I ended up having to take the door panel off and clean puke out of the inside of the door. Luckily the plastic sheet inside kept most of it out of the mechanical parts.
I shouldn’t have read this while eating breakfast with a hangover…
Jeffy B says
I’ve got a couple car puke stories. The first one was when I was a very young child. It involves a plate full of giant sliced tomatoes, a hot summer day, and a 1972 Pontiac Grand Safari (with the wood-grain side panels.) After ingesting said tomatoes, we were on our way home from my grandmother’s house (about a 4 hour trip) when I suddenly came over all nauseous. I leaned over the front bench seat (no seatbelts in those days) to inform my mother of the change in my health status. I said to her, “Mommy, I don’t feel so BRRRAAAAGGHHHHH.” It was definitely my best Creosote moment, splashing it off the dashboard and back into the laps of both my mom and dad, little chunks of half-eaten tomato complete with little seeds and all.
The other incident involved lots of beer, a trip to the WVIAC basketball tournament, and a can of Skoal. For some reason, as a teenager, I always craved a dip of snuff after a few beers. And it always made me vomit. You’d think that I’d learn my lesson after, say, 7 or 8 times, but not this kid. So after a sixer or so, it was decided that I was the most sober, thus the designated driver. So we piled into my 1980 Datsun 310GX and proceeded down to the Civic Center for the basketball games. We were doing about 70 on the interstate, beer in belly, pinch of Skoal between cheek and gum, when fate intervened. I spewed all over the windshield. Still held my grip on the wheel and had the presence of mind to take the next exit and proceed to the nearest gas station for cleanup and more beer.
MC Perfunctory says
People never believe this story, in light of my history of drinking to excess many times, and puking many times as a result.
BUT honest, one time I was the victim of ‘bad beer’. My pregnant (at the time) wife can verify that in this case I had one single beer as she was not drinking and totally sober.
Location – St. Louis, MO. We were attending a Blues hockey game. I got a beer betweem periods from one of those portable beer carts – where they serve draft beer, not cans. First and last time I ever did that.
Well, within about half an hour, my stomach was bloating so bad I could hardly breathe. I felt like I could hurl any minute and was getting cold sweats.
So we leave early, I drive because concentrating on the road might enable me to get home without puking. Of course its a heavy snowstorm complicating issues.
Halfway home I have to slam on the brakes, head for the shoulder, and barely get the door open before I erupt. The smell was most vile, smelled like a frickin sewer.
After that, I felt fine, like I was exorcised or something. But the resulting cleanup of the car in freezing weather was NOT enjoyable.
I’ve since learned that if bars or vendors serving draft beer do not cleanse their ‘lines’ that bacteria forms and the result can be exactly what I incurred.
You Ass’s are killing me with these stories & are making me relive this one…. My Grandfather used to own an old Lincoln Continental with suicide doors ( you know the one’s like the Kennedy’s paraded arond in) anyway Gramps was gone on vacation & I decided to take his pride & joy out for a spin. After picking up a few buddy’s & a case of Schlitz beer we cruised the county roads swilling suds as fast & stupidly as possible. My high school buddy “Putt” was chugging his fair share in the back seat when suddenly he said asked me to stop the car. Assuming that he had to take a leak I decided to make his life miserable & told him that he would have to hold it until we could find a inconspicuous spot to stop. We were all under age. Anyway he kept screaming STOP, STOP NOW! Then brilliantly I said if you gotta piss I will slow down & you can piss out the door. Well Putt opened the door & attempted the step out of the car…..the rear suicide door hit him & Putt must have rolled head over heels for 50 feet or more. When he stooped rolling he was sitting “Indian Style” in the middle of the gravel road with his eye glasses hanging off one ear & was barfing between his legs. The rest of us laughed our ass’s off! I have tears in my eye’s as I am telling this. Think I’ll give ol’ Putt a call today.
JESUS! Cannot…. Stop… Laughing!
Jeff Kay, you are SO me! I was on business one time, and I and a co-worker invited a homeless guy into the bar at our hotel. He was really interesting…but what to believe was debatable. We left him with $100, then closed out for the night. We then adjourned to my room for a beer, while watching hookers down on the street below wearing bunny boots, mesh stockings. and parkas while turning tricks. Ahhhhhh…life in Alaska!
Kinda off topic but maybe not really. It is about puking but puking in an airplane. I’ve been flying a lot the past few years and I just realized I haven’t seen any barff bags in that pouch on the back of the seat in front of me. Those things still around? I’ve never needed one. I have one I took years ago from a United Airlines plane. It has every language imaginable printed on it that probably said, “Barff Bag. Puke in this”. Anyone know? Anyone ever use one or sat next to someone who did? That’s got to be nasty to be involved in. Just wondering. Happy 4th to all!
The Qweezy Mark says
That’s where I keep my cellphone. In that bag.
You better have great “aim” with those tiny barf bags. Jumpin’ J. J. Dyno-mite!! It wouldn’t do me a bit of good on a’count of me passing out when I throw up. I’d be laying in the isle with one cheek in a puddle and the said barf bag in my hand. Out cold. When I lived by myself in a shitty apartment in the late 80’s, I contracted some 24 hour stomach bug. I went running to the bathroom with the dreaded duo of decisions…puke first or poop first? So. I passed out on the bathroom floor instead. I woke up in a cold sweat. My face down in puke, shit my pants and a bloody imprint of the tile floor on my forehead. Good times.
I had a tiny efficiency apartment late 70’s in Cincy. playing college boy for a while. The sitter was right next to the tub. I don’t think it was called ‘multi-tasking’ back then but I was able to keep clean up to a minimum. And yes…good times indeed!
When I was about 15, my cousing and I killed and entire bottle of Amaretto (sickening sweet, that) on Thanksgiving. While we were driving home – I remember staring at my feet trying not to puke – I could feel it coming, so I started to roll down the window. The back windows in my parent’s station wagon were ‘child safety’ windows and only rolled halfway down. Well, I didn’t realize that until it was too late. I tried to stick my head out of the window, but ended up slamming my nose into it and puking down the window and door and all over the inside of the car. I only mildly remember my father stopping in an entirely too lit up gas station to clean it up. Haven’t been able to stand even the SMELL of Amaretto ever since. Good times.
Recently (last Monday) I did a shot of tequila on an empty stomach and dehydrated from the 100 degree heat, a two mile walk, and a plasma donation (don’t judge) and two glasses of cold water. Well the tequila hit me wrong and I excused myself from the bar and walked around the corner of Charlie’s Records and let loose a mostly water and tequila hinted stream of awesome. It felt good. It probably didn’t feel good to the family of cock roaches I drowned but oh well.
After that I went back in for more Pabst but stuck to jeager and goldschlager.
Jerry in WV says
Two puke stories. one car related, one not……..Car first….About 20 years ago, my wife, 2 daughters and I were driving to my mother’s house for dinner on Thanksgiving. we are 5 minutes from our destination and my youngest says, “Dad, I am sick.” I tell her to roll her window down and take a deep breath. Almost before the last word is out of my mouth, she takes a power vomit into the back of my head and totally filled my glasses from behind!!! Not fun. I almost wrecked while trying to get my glasses off so I could see and trying not to vomit all over myself. Vomit story 2…….At Bill in WVs house, also 20 or more years ago. Middle of summer, we had been to a work function and I got totally trashed. Someohow made it back to Bill’s house where I immediately get sick. All I remember is waking up with a large pot that you put a plant in, beside me, filled with puke. Sometime during the night, Bill takes the plant out of the pot and gives it to me to puke in. Good times!
Bill in WV says
Still have that pic of you, passed out on the couch from that night. That was around/during my D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Hilarious! I think we downed an entire bottle of Gentlemen Jack at that office party.
Day One of my summer vacation: Celebrated July 4th at a Mexican’s house, watched fireworks with an Indian [casino, not curry]
Root 66 says
My puke story is probably the reason you don’t see too many Howard Johnson’s restaurants anymore. Their motels always had a restaurant attached or nearby and we would go there to eat while on vacation. This was long before “kiddie meals” and the stuff like that and I was always taught to be a clean-plater as a young-un. I was probably around 6 at the time this happened:
1. Breakfast. I order pancakes. They bring out enough pancakes to feed an army! I start to feel them coming back up and I make a dash for it. I throw up just as I reach the front door just as people are coming in…very appetizing!
2. Dinner time. I order spaghetti. This time, I can’t reach the door in time, so I grab something nearby to throw up in–which happened to be my mom’s purse! You know, spaghetti looks pretty much the same coming out as it does going in! I don’t think she even bothered to clean out the purse…it went straight in the can!
I think they gave us money to NOT come back!
Day two of my summer vacation and I’m stuck in a WalMart in a border town.
Where the hell are my goddamned box scores?
Don’t have the complete box on this yet, but here’s the action up till now…jtb
PALLEKELE, Sri Lanka (AP) Pakistan fast bowler Junaid Khan struck twice in one over as Sri Lanka struggled to 44-3 in the third test on Sunday after Thisara Perera’s four-wicket haul earlier helped to dismiss the tourists for 226.
Khan trapped Dinesh Chandimal leg before wicket for 8 and two balls later he clean bowled leading batsman Kumar Sangakkara without scoring off a delivery that nipped back sharply. Mohammad Sami had captain Mahela Jayawardene lbw with a yorker in the last over of a first day dominated by fast bowlers on a lively wicket.
Tharanga Paranavitana will resume Monday on 13 at Pallekele International Cricket Stadium with Sri Lanka trailing Pakistan’s first innings by 182.
Jesus, jtb, we got the chessboard out but you playin’ whack-a-mole.
Jesus jtb…you mean to tell me Junaid Khan is with Pakistan now? I thought he’d never leave Sierra Leone. So much for loyalty. What an asshole!
Money is ruining the whole sport.
Miss Q says
Ummmmm ….. *crickets chirping*
Get it? Crickets? Heh.