It was December 23, 2005. My boyfriend and I decided to go eat at a local Chinese buffet -- a place at which we had eaten before with no problems. We sat down and went to get a plate of food. In the midst of the pile of food, there was shrimp. When we sat back down, I looked at the shrimp and asked if there was something wrong with it -- there were little white blotches on it. My boyfriend said it was probably the oils that it was cooked in. I made the shitty comment, "Watch, we'll probably get food poisoning."

We ate our shrimp. I only had a little; but my boyfriend had quite a bit.

We got home and everything was fine. My bowels were happy from the monstrous shit I took after I got home. That's normal -- after I eat Chinese food I typically take a huge dump and get very gassy. We went to bed, and I tortured my boyfriend with extremely smelly farts all night long. I would get my ass close to him and fart on him sometimes. I know I'm a shithead, but it was funny, him all squirming and freaking out over it. It was as if a stink bomb had gone off under our covers; and because the bedroom door was shut, it was horribly worse. The smell lingered.

Friday, December 24. I went to work all fine and excited that it was one day away from Christmas. I was doing my thing when, in the middle of talking to someone on the phone, I felt like I had to vomit. I ended my call and went and threw up a little. I came out and thought nothing of it. Ten minutes later I was in the bathroom throwing up again. This time it was followed immediately by me shitting my guts out. I thought I just had the flu, because it was running rampant through my office.

Noon came around and we were all leaving for the company Christmas party. I got home and found my boyfriend sprawled out on our bed. He said he was throwing up and shitting not even after ten minutes after I had left for work. But we decided it was nothing and attempted to go to the Christmas party anyway.

On the way there, I had to pull over so he could vomit. I turned around and we went home.

As I was pulling in my parking space I felt this horrible pain in my stomach, like someone was taking a knife and gutting me. Sweat started to pour from every gland of my being and my legs felt terribly weak. As I was helping my boyfriend up the steps to our apartment I felt my stomach rumble, like there was a storm in my stomach and it was the thunder before the disaster hit. Finally I got my boyfriend in bed and I squeezed my ass cheeks tight as I made a beeline for my toilet.

Right as I sat down, the storm hit full force, and out of my ass came explosive diarrhea. My legs were going completely numb and I was straining so hard it was as if I was in labor. I knew the culprit had to be food poisoning. I wiped and flushed and got my boyfriend in the car so we could go to the Urgent Care.

As soon as we got there and signed in, I got my boyfriend to a chair and ran to the bathroom. I dragged the trashcan with me and ran into the handicapped stall. I sat down and heaved what was left of my breakfast in the trashcan while I grabbed the handrail and let my ass explode. I was mentally cursing the shrimp as my body lost the battle against the bacteria I had consumed the night before. I couldn't stop shitting or vomiting.

A nurse walked in, asking if I was okay. All I could do was clean myself up and flush and wash my hands and walk to my room.

It was the worst experience of my life. And my boyfriend had it way worse than I did, because he ate way more shrimp I did. We spent Christmas in misery.