Definition: In this task, you are given a Reddit post as a text. Your task is to generate a title for this text. The title should start with "TIFU by", followed by a situation that caused humor. The title should contain 7-12 words, ideally.
Input: Text: to start off, i'm going to admit that this happened to me a few years ago, and i only recently decided that this would be a good story to tell anonymously over the internet. just remember, i'm a very descriptive story teller, but that's what makes it worth it... right? i'm sorry, tl;dr is available at the bottom.

edit: also pretty sure this isn't nsfw material, but apparently vomit is part of the bodily discharge category. not surprising, but you'd think it would be an exception considering the tons of other crazy shit in this subreddit that's allowed...

setting the stage, i was a freshman in high school. my life was pretty good in high school; i was in advanced classes, maintained good grades, had a tight group of friends, and somewhat of a name for myself. i was somewhat of an introvert, and still have that same quality today, but nonetheless, i can't complain about my high school experience.

the story starts with a field trip in my foods class. i never really enjoyed foods. the cooking was fun, but the teacher was very strict with grading and the work load wasn't great either.

plus, the people in the class were different, but weird. there's always those weird stereotypes, but this class was amplified by 100%. there was a dumb blondes, who were also huge sluts, like college guys on their ass daily. there was the ugly bitch that made me hate life. the cliche nerds, the punk kids, the delinquents, etc. let's just summarize what i'm trying to say with, i hated my class and all the kids in it.

on the field trip we were going on, we took a bus to the middle of downtown [insert random metropolitan city here], right on the corner of sketchy drug dealer ally and wrinkly prostitute lane.

the place we went to was a bakery. it was a family bakery with the classic white middle-class family with their only daughter just trying to make a life for themselves in the big city. it was endearing and comfortable inside, but the fact that one step outside could end up in someone getting stabbed was a bit of a turn off.

plus the fact that inside wasn't any better with the ugly bitch on one side of me and the satanic emo on the other. to be honest, i probably would have been more comfortable outside with the muggers than inside with all these people that i hate.

so, by being there, obviously the teacher was trying to get us to experience new cuisine, try new things. personally, she may have just been trying to fatten us up so she could kill us and serve us for the next class to make puberty stew. either way, with the sweet tooth i had, i bought the most cookies and muffins out of the whole class.

i wasn't exactly a big kid either, being 5'6" and around 115 pounds. i had a large metabolism, but of course people didn't notice how much energy i use when i eat, and they wondered where the secret black-hole was where i stored all of my food from that bakery. i swear to you, i spent almost $15.00 on a place that where cookies were sold for a dime a dozen.

to top off my large meal of diabetes and heart pain, i got a very viscous looking coffee. after i finished ordering my feast, everyone was pretty much done, so we got back on the bus and ate the rest of the way back to school.
being in a class with nobody i could trust, i scarfed my food down like i was going into hibernation. after finishing the pile of cookies, i sucked down my coffee, but something was off.

did it burn like hell when it entered my mouth? yes, but that wasn't the problem. did it taste like shit coffee that you would expect to get from a bakery with a c- health rating? yes, and it was terrible, but that wasn't the problem.

before i could figure it out, we made it back to school, just in time for my lunch period to come.

because i just had finished the cookies i had from the bus only minutes prior, my stomach was too dazed by the shit that entered my body to signal i was full. thinking that the cookies were just little, i got a full lunch.

i have no exact memory of what it was, but what was worse than a full lunch was the fact that i thought, "hmmm, i'm sure i could eat more if i just adjusted my pant's waist." so, i went back up there and got another full lunch.

by then, i had consumed about $30.00 of food. two lunches, a full thing of cookies, and a bad coffee later, and i felt full. surprisingly, i wasn't dying, but i think that was because i would probably go into shock if my stomach revealed that the food was crushing my vital organs.

lunch ended as fast as it began, and it was next class for me. it was one of my science classes, and feeling full and energized, i went in proud and ready.

this time in class, we had to do an experiment. for a blood pressure test, me and three other people got together for this experiment. for this test, someone had to run 20 laps around the school's main stairs, and to clarify, these were long ass stairs. running the stairs up and down, especially with how far apart they were and how many laps was probably equivalent to a 5k.

with me being the most fit in the group, as well as a middle school cross country runner (which i would like to clarify was the death of me in middle school), all eyes in the group turned to me for the role of the runner in the experiment.

i felt good, i was full, focused, and confident. my group put trust in me and i was ready to do them proud. we started off with the regular control variables and set up. they took my blood pressure, and found it to be good. obviously the food hadn't made it into my veins yet or it would be atrocious. it's a wonder they even got a pulse at all. like i said though, the food hadn't hit me yet, and i got into position.

they counted down and i was off in a blur. i ran so fast, i forgot about the first 5 laps in an instant. suddenly, the feeling of pain jolted through my body. i blew it off, thinking it was just the normal feeling of a vigorous exercise. i continued running, but my pace felt much slower and more abnormal.

when i finally got to the halfway point, it hit me. my stomach dropped, and i almost blacked out. my vision got blurry and fatigue washed over. it was amazing i didn't just drop dead right there.

before i let the feeling of a stomach explosion wash over, i stopped my thoughts. i took a second to remember, and i told myself, "they are counting on you to get this done, and if you can't do a damn experiment right, how are you ever going to succeed in actual life." this idea kept my vomit down and my shit in my colon.

i felt important. i toughed off the feeling and continued running. as much as i felt like a hero, as i passed my group, i knew they saw something else. they could tell that i was probably decomposing right in front of them. my skin could have been peeling off then, or my face may have twisted and convulsed into that of a stroke victim. it didn't matter, i was going to do finish what i started.

i made it to the end of my run, all 20 laps, and now that i think about it, one more for good measure (fuck you for that, group). i went up to the partner with the blood pressure cuffs in her hand. pretty girl, and also very smart.

i think at that point i was literally crawling on my hands and knees. i got over to her, and sat down. she put it around my arm and took my blood pressure. she took it off after finding it, and before i had the chance to look, i excused my self.

as i started walking away, like a person with a broken rib and a leg i must add, i said "i think i'm going to the bathroom to throw up right now." obviously, i was joking, but right on cue, my stomach heard the words "throw up" and immediately realized, "oh yea, that's how we can stop this terrible pain."

at the point, i realized why my coffee seemed off. it was the most acidic coffee i ever had in my life. the drink was like the pots of acid people fall into in the movie and melt away alive.

my stomach apparently thought the same thing, because the moment i mentioned throwing up, the fat man was released.

at first, the spillage began on my sweatshirt that i held in my hands since i took it off to run.

even though i had is wrapped around my vomit like a little sac, i thought halfway through, "there's no way the 10 gallons in my stomach is gonna fit in a piece of cloth that holds less than a pint before leaking or spilling."

then, i threw the sweatshirt down, with an audible splat. i think my partners behind me only then realized what was happening. they finally looked up from their notes and data, one of them saying, "i think he's actually throwing up..." well mr. lab partner, i believe you sir were correct.

i turned back in time, only to see the girl's face. it was the face of someone who just lost all comfort. she looked like she just watched someone die, with a terribly horrified look and a hand covering her mouth.

i not only felt terribly physically now, but heavily damaged emotionally. i was sorry for throwing up.
after my sweatshirt hit the floor in a splatter of half-digested lunch, it was like i could feel the 3 lab partners behind me as their head's turned to me. might as well put on a show...

i took a second to find the nearest recycling bin, because you know, some hobo in a recycling plant could eat this.

before i could make it though, i find myself spewing across the hall from the bin.

i swear to god it traveled like 12 feet.

thinking i was totally going to undershoot the bin, i ran towards it as fast as possible. turns out nothing was undershot, because everything that missed the bin traveled farther than i thought it would.

at least i hit a pretty good back board, but that wall was going to take a long time to heal after that. i finally discharged all stomach excrement after heaving into the bin for 5 minutes straight.

when i stop and look back, my lab partners were gone, equipment and everything, disappeared like the roanoke colony, only the gross sweatshirt pile to be seen in the hallway.

tears streaming from my eyes, i left all of the evidence of vomit behind, and stumbled to the nearest bathroom. when i got there, i happened to meet my friend. "oh god, this is the best thing that could happen now..." i thought, and i tried to pass him into the bathroom.

too bad he was leaving the bathroom, so we were forced to face each other as we walked by through the doorway. "hey anon!" he said as he raised his hand for a high five. he seemed to be completely ignorant of the pain i was in and the shit that covered my body.

being covered in vomit, i politely declined his offer saying, "not right now, i just threw up all over myself." he then put his hand down, looks at me with the most disgusted look he could possibly give me, says "ew", and walks away. now i'm not only covered in shit, but i feel like shit. he didn't talk to me as much after that.

after i clean myself up and come back to the scene of the crime from the bathroom, i find my sweatshirt gone, and my teacher standing there waiting for me. the first thing she asks me is, "did you at least get the results?"

her obviously trying to break her gaze from the recycling bin, she sends me to the nurse and goes back to class. i make it to the nurse, finding she has bagged my vomit filled sweatshirt. she tells me to got pick out another shirt, since my undershirt also suffered some damage. thank god the vomit didn't cover my pants or shoes.

i go to look at the clothes available, and the only shirt they have is a hoodie 3 sizes too small. are you fucking kidding me? i have to put on the shirt, because they're not letting me out there with bare chested.

when i put it on, the hoodie fits me like a crop top, exposing my skinny ass, hairy belly to the world. "maybe i can go out in the vomit shirt and no one will notice!?" how positive of me, but we all know that's not going to happen, so i hike up my crop top and finish school.

obviously, i got shit for the hoodie from everyone, there was no doubt, but the nurse also forced me to carry my vomit sweatshirt and undershirt in a bag for the rest of the day. i couldn't leave it anywhere because it would leave a smell, so now i'm a walking hoodie slut with a smell of year old garbage dump following me around in a bag that looks like satan himself took a shit.

people across campus knew who vomited on the wall too, for the janitor didn't get to it before the next passing period started, and the guy carrying the vomit in a bag is just strolling through school for people to see in a crop top. wasn't that hard of a gamble to assume he was the one who threw up.

my reputation was ruined, and it took years for everyone to stop bringing it up and forget. soon i would begin to own up to it, cause if i didn't, the suicidal thoughts would have won by now.

in hind site, i probably could have just left, but i was too busy thinking about how i was going to kill myself when i get home to think about it. turns out the bakery that had the coffee and cookies closed down a year after, rejoice to that! and hey, at least we can wait to see if the janitor has a tifu on this... now that would be interesting.

TIFU by eating enough food to feed twelve African families, then spewing it all out across a hallway.