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Word: vomitting (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 2000-2009
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Usage:

...Caroline insists that I share her bed. It's pediatric-sized, with a firm board at the end, so my legs can't hang over; I have to draw them up. For this reason and all the obvious ones, I get no sleep. Caroline sleeps in fits, waking to vomit occasionally (a usual aftershock of concussions), to tinkle, to cry for Mommy or for Piggie, her constant companion who, unfortunately, is at Grandma's, equally desolate. Caroline hugs the red Spinners bear as tightly as she can, but it is lacking as a substitute...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Caroline's First Game | 7/3/2001 | See Source »

Roller coasters are supposed to scare us. They wrap our non-phobic, perfectly natural fears of heights, speed and being turned upside down 200 feet above the cotton-candy stand into one vomit-inducing 2-minute thrill ride - and then they set us back on the ground, pat us on the back, and tell us where the end of the line is so we can go again...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The New Roller Coasters: Thrills, Chills and Few Spills | 6/26/2001 | See Source »

...Then strap the kids in and tell them to hang on and have fun. Chances are the worst thing that will happen is one of them will vomit on your shoes...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The New Roller Coasters: Thrills, Chills and Few Spills | 6/26/2001 | See Source »

...know the right people, a particularly exotic combination of both can be arranged without too much of a hassle. When the sun goes down, the crowds thicken outside the 80-odd cantinas along the avenue, and pulsing jock-rock mingles with the aroma of stale beer and fresh vomit to form Revolucion's unmistakable atmosphere. "This is what the world knows of Tijuana," says Pepe Mogt, 31, smiling at the drunken humanity sprawled out before him. "It gives us a lot of material...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: La Nueva Frontera: The New Tijuana Brass | 6/11/2001 | See Source »

...paper I looked good so my Mom could deny it. I was in the top five percent of my class, I was the editor in chief of the school paper, the student council secretary. I burned out my friends. I woke up one morning at college, with vomit on the floor, and a call from some guy who had my bag and would only give it back if I gave him $500. That's when I got the AA number. I wrote down the address, the time of a meeting, and didn't go. I started dating a drug dealer...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Wasted Days of Youth | 6/11/2001 | See Source »

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