Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join Lulu from Live it, Love it and the fast-growing harem ofTMI-participators in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. If you want, leave it here in the comments! If you’re chicken, share someone else’s! Ah, the anonymity of the blogosphere… it’s a good thing.

Without further ado, here is my first Thursday’s Tale of TMI…

I’m trying not to get stressed. Stress and me, even a little bit don’t mix. It turns my tummy into knots, twists it into little pieces and gives me horrific mornings and sleepless nights. But you can’t help stressing about a health disciplinary about the tummy problems the stress is causing in the first place can you?

Anyways, I haven’t written about my IBS in a while, i didn’t want to gross any of you out with poop tales, but i did promise you all a TMI. And this is TMI and a half.

My new doc and I have been working through a bathroom cabinet sized variety of pills and potions and options and therapies to try and sort little old me out. I’ve tried Mebervine, Buscopan, Fibregel, colofax, peppermint oil in capsule form, you name it, i’ve tried it and none of them work for me. It always comes back with a vengeance. The newest option was to try a low dose anti-depression – anxiety medicine to a) calm me down and b) the side effects are meant to help.

The side effects didn’t help.

Friday night, picture the scene, me all glammed up, tight skinny jeans, new knee high boots, sexy eyes. Out for cocktails with my hot man and the creative director of a high street fashion store. We were talking fashion, models, crazy high street fashion employees, blogging. It was glamorous as hell.

However, i had forgotten to eat. But this isn’t a vomiting tale, oh no. It seems that the warning label on my anti-d’s was there for a reason. Instead of the alcohol coming out upwards, it came out downwards. And not whilst i was in the bathroom, having realising it was about to happen. Oh no, this had no warning.

Instead, i reverse-vomited as i was walking across Princes Street. Yes, that’s the main famous street of Edinburgh. At the busiest time of night, in front of loads of people. And in front of the boy. I don’t think he can ever look at me in the same way ever again (and I guess now neither can you).

And that my friends is TMI.

What is the most humiliating thing that has happened to you?