Tori Spelling has a personal blog online and recently wrote about her worst date ever. It involves puking in a frying pan. If you don’t have the stomach for it – skip the below quote.

“He called and asked if I was free to go to dinner Friday at 8pm. I said yes. I was feeling sick. Actually, the room started spinning at this point. When suddenly his dimples started floating up on his forehead I knew I had to find a bathroom and quick.

“I excused myself from the riveting conversation and bolted for the bathroom. I just kept telling myself, ‘Don’t make eye contact with the restaurant patrons, or their amazingly delicious meals, and walk straight.’ “

“Then, I saw it, the door. The bathroom door! Five more steps and I’d be safely in a bathroom stall where I could puke my guts out. I pushed open the door, and walked right into the kitchen.

“The whole kitchen staff looked up at me. I put my hands up to cover my mouth, but I knew it was too late. A waiter rushed over with a massive copper saucepan where I proceeded to vomit the four rum and cokes and the cliff bar I had had at 11am into it.”

Gross.  I suppose we’ve all had these days though, right?