New York Liaison: A Tale of Love and Projectile Vomiting in the Big Apple – Part III

Oh God, My Wife Is German.

New York Liaison: A Tale of Love and Projectile Voliting in New York City

After sleeping most of the day, we finally ventured back into Manhattan, where we visited Central Park, took dozens of pictures and ate dinner at an Irish Pub on the Upper West Side — and by “ate dinner,” I mean my wife had exactly 3 bites of broccoli cheese soup and one sip of beer. (The only thing she could stomach was a near-lethal dose of Imodium). This may seem like a lot of activity given my wife’s weakened state, but trust me when I say this woman is tough. Tough as balls. Big, swinging, cast-iron, German balls. She had a great time that day, and except for the sunken cheeks and dark bags under her eyes, you’d never guess she spent the previous night filling our toilet bowl full of wet cheese and trichinosis.

We returned to our hostel room and tried to watch Shrek Forever After…

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