Was woken up last night by my little lad James, he was crying, so I got up and as I walked into his room I noticed this strange smell of food, I lent over gave him a kiss on the cheek and realised that he'd been sick and had it plastered all over his face and in his hair and unfortunately now on my lips. He'd been to a birthday party and must have eaten too much humus and birthday cake because this is what he'd brought up. The birthday cake was in the shape of the Tardis and his sticky sick was a distinct blue colour. I could still taste it this morning. Oh the joys of parenthood!

Doctor Who cakes FTW!

Doctor Spew?

Actually,did you see last nights episode? At the end that bloke from Blackadder turned into an Ood,which involved him vomiting forth a load of slimy tentacles.Great tea time telly!

Errr I fell asleep. Got a new sofa and it's really comfortable.

That wasn't dried vomit; it was my jizz.

FUCK.

I knew I should have turned down that humus.

Metal Iain wrote:That wasn't dried vomit; it was my jizz.

textbook

Metal Iain wrote:That wasn't dried vomit; it was my jizz.

It couldn't have been, it didn't reek of booze.

terrorizer wrote:

Metal Iain wrote:That wasn't dried vomit; it was my jizz.

It couldn't have been, it didn't reek of booze.

I said jizz, not shit.

My jizz taste of tequila. Or vice versa. I'm not sure. Salt-supplied...

Also the title of this topic is a gloriously terrible pun.

Six Tories?

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