"The only two certainties in life are barf and Texas."

I just returned from a trip to TX to visit the in-laws.
Here's how it went down:

Day one: Got there late-afternoon, hang out, bought beer and whiskey.  Brother-in-law and I proceeded to annihilate 20 beers and a fifth of Jack.

Day two: Dead to rights until about 4pm.  Built a grill and had a BBQ.  Contracted stomach flu, vomited profusely every 20 minutes starting at midnight.

Day three: Woke up at 1pm, stomach still a mess but not vomiting.  Spent rest of day on couch. Dinner consisted of soup.  Slept.

Day four: Finally feeling good enough to move (but not great), went to Abilene to enjoy a lunch consisting of Chinese buffet.  Bad idea.  Next hour in bathroom.  Felt a little better.  Went to BBQ at brother-in-law's mother-in-law's house.  Good food, but still a bit unsettled due to contracting stomach flu after eating BBQ two days earlier.  Drank a beer.  Difficulty getting to sleep.

Day five: Drove home, tired but finally feeling good for the first time.

Now I'm at work and I feel like a million bucks.  My body never wants me to enjoy vacations I guess.
Oh, and the real kicker is I didn't lose any weight.  You'd think I could have puked a pound away in all that.

Fuck you, body.