Old story flooded back
Hopefully I'll be able to recall all of the randomness. This was over 12 years ago and looking back it was a tad irresponsible and all that... I'm a sensible grown up now :)

2 boys (shaven & neil) and 2 girls (lou and neenor), all pumped FULL of acid.

lou has her mums car and picks the other 3 of us from the night club. Me and neil jump in the back of the car only to find one of those tomy tape player/recorders with the big microphone attached which provided amusement for a good while while we were being driven to an unknown destitination. Neil had a one of those Viks nose sticks that you jam up your nose and sniff in an attempt to clear it using the power of menthol, and just had it hanging out of his nose, in my LSD fuelled state it was freaking me out when he was talking, but I did my best to ignore it dancing around like a floppy dogs cock in front of me every time he spoke. We were driving up the motorway at stupid speeds and eventually, it all got too much for me, I pulled it out of his nose, would the window down and threw the offending item out of the window hoping that would be the end of the matter.

3 seconds later .... "STOOOOOPPPPP!!!! STOP THE FUCKING CAR!!!" yelled Neil, in a state of panic. Lou slammed the anchors on in the middle lane of a motorway (about 3am thankfully so no accidents occurred). When she enquired about what was the matter Neil demmanded she reversed (up the motorway) until we got to where I had thrown his nose-stick out of the window... after about 10 seconds of reversing, he declared that this was the spot. I opened the door to get out of the back of the car and being the search... when the door finished opening, a scruffy looking drunken fella got in the back of the car with us, thanked us for stopping and passed me his whiskey bottle.

Now, this would have been strange enough an event to happen at the best of times.. but as all of our brains (and faces) were melting due to the acid... nobody could quite figure out if this was nuts or if it was a totally normal happening and it was just the acid messing with our heads. So we offered to take him to sunderland (for that is where he wanted to go)

Within a few minutes he was part of the scenery in the car and we carried on as we were, Lou glanced at the speedo and noticed she was doing 135, so we all assumed that the best course of action would be for us all (apart from Trampo) lean forward/across to the dash so we could all stare at the needle so far around the circle.. including the driver.

I returned to the back seat to find a slightly fearful looking tramp... wasn't sure why he was so quiet at the time.. looking back it's a bit obvious.

Anyway, we got into the city centre and Trampy said we could drop him "over there by that housing estate",which we did, said our goodbyes and watched him scurry off into the night. We set off driving again through the suburbs of Sunderland, trying to find our way out, when we noticed a dark car was following us.... surely not we proclaimed, it's just the drugs messing with our heads again... but after a few suggested random turns trying to "shake" them, they stuck behind us.. so we started getting scared... then a voice came over the radio saying "yes... this IS the police, pull over the vehicle" (may not have came from the radio, but it sure sounded like that and freaked us out). So over we pull, and before we have stopped rolling we are surrounded by flashing lights, 3 lock up vans, 3 striped cars and 2 unmarked cars.... I believe one or two exclamations of "OOOH FUCK, WTF!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!" may have been uttered.

A cop arrived at the car, asked Lou to get out and come sit in a car with them to have a word. It was the longest few minutes of my life.. we were all convinced we were going to jail (for what, we didn't know)>

Lou returned back to the car looking calm but tense< popped her seatbelt on and started driving. It seems they had been following us since the motorway and hadn't been able to catch us and eventually gave up, it was just coincidence they happened to pass usafter we dropped trampo off, they breath tested her for alcohol which she hadn't had any of, gave her a roasting for the speed she was doing but as none of it was caught on camera she was getting let off with a warning.

We eventually pulled into a petrol station to get a bit of fuel and some fluids, only to pull up behind the unmarked cop car, so Neil thought the best thing to do would be to buy 2 Double Deckers from the garage, casually pop them under each windscreen wiper on the police car, say cheers and give them the thumbs up and stroll back to the car. To this day I can't figure out the logic, but he seemed happy with it at the time, and the police just seemed confused/amused by his actions. I expect they loved Double Deckers so let the cheek of it slide.

We set off to Durham and laughed at flowers on the bus stops and invented new words we couldn't do without until the sun came up

The night was much longer than that, with lots of strangeness, but the rest of it probably WAS the LSD messing with out heads.. I just can't figure that any of that tramp/police saga was in any way normal, regardless of sobriety.

And before I get scalded, I am fully aware of how irresponsible the drug/driving situation was and i've wagged my own finger at myself many times

Sorry if this was a boring tale that made no sense, I just saw the Question and it popped into my head after many years of hibernation and needed to commit it to "paper"
(ShavenLunatic says touch your nose!, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 11:36, Reply)

Snurf and snore
I once saw a mate snort a fat line of base speed (pure amphetamine crystal), and actually fall asleep as he reached the end, toppling over into a foetal huddle.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 11:02, Reply)

On a dancefloor in darkest Dalston
I noticed that the Japanese lad in front of me suddenly froze, in mid-dance. After a couple of minutes, I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he was OK. The barest of almost imperceptably minute nods was the reply. So I left him to his internal journey; he stayed completely motionless for at least ten minutes, before resuming his shape-throwing activities as if nothing had happened.

What made it an even more bizarre sight was that directly behind him was a wild-haired hippy type, throwing himself around in a complely insane fit of spastic movements...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 11:00, 3 replies)

Mother Gong
We were all stoned off our tits, listening to Mother Gong. I had cottonmouth, so got up to get a glass of water.

I could overhear everyone in the room chattering away, and I started trying to figure out what they were saying. Try as I might, I couldn't focus. I stood there with my back to the room, really trying to hone in on a conversation - any conversation. I started spinning this was doing my nut I really couldn't understand I could hear them but couldn't what the fuck what the fuck are they saying "Guys!" I exclaimed, turning around, "I can't understand anything!", only to be faced by a room full of stoned students completely monged! But still with the talking! They're talking! They're talking and I can't hear them I can't understand them how are they talking what are they saying how what what the WHAT THE FUUUUUCK?!

... and then the record stopped.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 10:39, Reply)

Time for a quick one before full time
August Bank Holiday weekend. InFest alternative festival. BRADFORD. Oh yes. Off my tits on a long-absent from my system combination of X and base (I know, I'm sorry), I glanced at my watch to try and establish whether my instincts that the time was around gibbon past watermelon were correct. At this point I noticed that the numbers were moving very quickly. After a couple of minutes squinting and refocusing (I can only hope my mouth wasn't wide open during this period), the numbers were still moving very quickly. I eventually realised that I had turned on stopwatch mode. This came as something of a surprise.

"Fucking hell", I proclaimed. "How long has that been running?"
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 10:28, 1 reply)

Bite the wax tadpole ...
There's nothing like a spot of coin cleaning to appreciate the kicking of a long standing habit.

From the age of 8 through to 22, my drug of choice was black, bubbly, potent, and when consumed in copious quantities of its liquid form; highly corrosive.

Its name was translated into Chinese as 'bite the wax tadpole'. Odd I grant you, but it fared better than its major rival. Their slogan, '[brand name] adds life' was translated as '[brand name] brings your ancestors back from the dead'. Fuckin zombie juice! Argh!! Run away.

It all started innocently enough with a glass or two amongst friends, but then I needed to study all night after working all day in an establishment with easy access to all I could consume. It just wasn't enough! I ended up licking a fat lump of the pre-mix every day. My skin erupted in pus ridden volcanos, my hands shook so bad I could hardly hand over my bus money, my studies and my social life suffered badly. Quitting was real tough, but ultimately one of the best things I have ever done.
(Que?, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 8:11, 4 replies)

Too Much Information
My lovely flatmate last year was a pharmacy student, and worked Saturdays in a chemist. One such Saturday, she came home as usual and pottered about for an hour or so, until suddenly a look of horror crossed her face. I can only assume her brain had temporarily blocked the incident.

She'd been behind the counter when a large (and by large we're talking 300lbs plus) man approached her. He was rather greasy looking and wearing a badly stained sweatshirt. He reached the counter, looked her straight in the eye and announced in a proud and happy (and loud) voice,

"I am having SEXUAL INTERCOURSE with a woman and I require SPERMICIDAL LUBRICANT!"

Somehow she managed to maintain her composure and advise him that unfortunately they had nothing suitable in stock and that it would be wise to use some form of barrier protection, but for a couple of days she seemed a little bit haunted.
(Fruitbox, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 2:03, 5 replies)

Smoking stunts your growth
Travelling up the great Congo river, even non smokers end up high from the fumes of calabashes full of ganga. For us smokers it was a heavenly experience of long sultry days, music and mary jane.

Then after disembarking in the heart of the forest we visit the pygmies. The pygmies have several thousand years of cultural heritage that pretty much revolves around the smoking of great quantities of marajuana. Using a long piece of bamboo (about eight feet) with a river clay bowl that contains about a coke can full of the wicked weed. Sit down in a circle with the bowl in the centre, add a bit of burning wood from the fire, and pass the mouthpiece end of the bamboo from one to the next, brilliant way to chill.

So after several thousand years of smoking dope - well, have you ever seen a tall pygmy??
(wazzzer, Thu 23 Sep 2010, 1:26, Reply)

A trip to Amsterdam with my mother
In my infinite wisdom I decided to take my mum to Amsterdam as an early Christmas present as she’d always wanted to go and see the sites.
After wondering around for a while taking my mum to see many interesting places I thought it was a good idea to go into a in the word of my mum “a wonderful smelling coffee shop.”
Having a slightly dubious past of experimenting with a few things I got myself a “wonderful smelling roll up” and by that I mean a few. After having a coffee and a “herbal roll up” as I decided to tell my mum, I needed the little girl room. On the way back I invested in a couple of cakes and wondered back to the table to find my mother finishing a herbal roll up with a huge smile on her face. Yes! My mother was stoned, something I never thought I would see.
After some weird and eye opening conversation with my mum of all people! The conversations are a story for another time and some I care not to remember. My mum got the munchies, by this point we’d had a few more, I decided the cakes were a good idea. It really helped and my mum spent most for the afternoon and evening completely baked!
I only wished I’d taken some pictures of this event but it’s defiantly an event to remember as it will never happen again.
I secretly think she wanted to go to try it, but she’d never admit it.
The next day she made me promise never to tell the story to anyone, but she doesn’t know about this site so this doesn’t count.
My granddad want to go to Amsterdam and I’m the only one in my family that will go on a boat with him and because of this incident I’ve been told in no uncertain terms I’m not allowed to take him. It’s my mission next year to take him, it should be interesting.
(snugglesacks, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 22:24, 6 replies)

An old hippy I once knew
Original 60s vintage, once scraped the mould off his bedsit wall and ate it, just in case.

It did do something, it made him puke.

For the massivest drugs google "straight to base tek", buy the raw materials, follow the instructions and visit what genuinely feels like a parallel universe.
(unclestinky, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 21:40, 1 reply)

How to freak out a drug dealer
At the wise, responsible age of 15 I was invited over to a guy's house to drop acid with him. He was a minor drug dealer with a big crush on me and I'm pretty sure his intention was that we trip and make out. What he didn't count on was me developing two extra personalities and spending the whole evening debating the nature of the soul with myself. He kept insisting that two of us didn't exist, which just made all three of us angry. Then we got made at each other because we couldn't agree on the nature of the soul. We all three sat sulking in a corner until there was only one of us again.

We don't do drugs anymore.
(WordsMeanThings, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 21:04, Reply)

I once decided to create my own style of footwear...
based on a type of shoe popular among skinheads, punks and grungers which was named after Klaús Martens. I then combined my favourite parts from this shoe with my favourite parts from a certain sheepskin boot, made of twin-faced sheepskin with fleece on the inside and with a tanned outer surface, with a synthetic sole.

They looked beautiful did my Dr.uggs

sorry.
( Mr Nerdy-Speccy-FuckNuts Ouchy ouchy wa wa!, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 20:39, 2 replies)

I've massively cut down on weed in the last year or so
(used to be a pretty big toker).. and I'm planning to give up smoking fags next month. While all of this is positive, I'm terrified about what I'm going to do with my time.

Any suggestions? (wanking goes without saying, of course)
( Finite "Aardvark sorted out my shit!" on, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 20:36, 5 replies)

Do I look like a crack dealer?
So a few weeks back I decided to head out to the ill fated Love Parade in Germany.As always the outfit choice for such an auspicious occasion proved a bit of a challenge. I finally decided on a pink t-shirt, camo shorts, a lumo yellow jacket, a pilots hat, large blue sunglasses and a pair of trainers. I looked the fucking business. As you're all probably aware it all went tits up and we ended up getting crushed a bit, witnessed some punch ups and thought the whole thing was getting out of hand. So we left.

So anyways I ended up back in town dressed as a raver with a strong desire to get pissed and forget my afternoon ordeal. So the evening progressed with me and my mates getting deliriously drunk. At some point in the evening I also managed to acquire some expensive looking gold plastic tinfoil type boa. The kind of thing I could imagine Mrs Santa Wearing when she dances for the elves around the North Pole when Mr Santa is out working. Flashing her seductive gash to them while allowing them to cop a feel of her saggy tits while the reindeer hump each other in the snow to the soft tones of Barry Manilow over the Christmas toy factory tannoy.

Anyways somewhere around 4am, pissed out my bracket and looking like a cross between Jordan, coco the clown and an eccentric tramp I wandered into another bar. Propping up the bar while doing my best 'yes, girls you know you want this' face I was approached by some semi-posh looking knob in his suit jacket, jeans and trainers. I say posh because he had looked like he'd spent a few minutes on his hair and he didn't smell.He was a walking fashion disaster, but that's a story for another time me thinks.

So he leans in and asks me something. At this point I should point out that I speak no German so I wasn't quite sure if I was so drunk I couldn't understand or he was in fact speaking German. In my best German I could muster I replied, 'Ich spreche kein Deutsch'.

I could see his brain whirring around for a bit looking for the words to say in English. Then casual as you like shouted over the rather loud music, "HAAAAVE YOUUU GOOOOT AAAANY CRAAACK!?!!??".

Fuck me I thought. So this is what crack dealers look like in Germany. Pink tshirts, camo pants, pilots hats and gold tinsel boa's. It's a wonder the cops haven't rounded them all up and taken them to the showers already. Quite why he thought I looked like a crack dealer I will never know, but it was pretty funny. Thinking back I should have got some cash off him, told him to wait and fucked off home. Hind sight is a beautiful thing.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 19:42, 2 replies)

Attack of the Drunken Caterer!
One morning, when I was a lad, I came downstairs in the morning to find a very confused young man standing in our kitchen. I retrieved what I had come down for and, on my way back upstairs to my room to get ready for school, casually informed my mother of our guest. She was a bit more concerned than I and went down to find out what the hell was going on. I followed shortly, to find her interrogating him and feeding him coffee.

As it happens, he and a bunch of his catering buddies had gotten hammered after a job the previous night and his "friends", thinking it would be a lark, dropped him at our house telling him it was the site of the night's work. He didn't remember much but the forensic evidence spoke volumes. The bottom panel of the back door was kicked in, the folded laundry on the dining room table was slept on, and his missing shoe was found in the tack room of our barn. While coffee helped to take the edge off his intoxication, I think what sobered him up more was my mother informing him that the cop living next door likely would have shot him if he'd caught him kicking down his front door.

At any rate, the most amusing part of the whole story is that my mother bred Shih-Tzus. Our dogs barked at every small noise, every visitor (no matter how well-known), every little disturbance. But a drunk kid kicks down the back door into the kitchen where they slept? Not a peep. Useless rag-mop bastards!
(bergec is filled with inertia, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 18:26, Reply)

Stolen from The Inbetweeners.
Everything is a drug.
A drug is a substance which, when introduced into the body, causes some change in the function of the body.
So, sugar is a drug.
Oxygen is a drug.
Water is a drug.
I would expand but I am a litle tipsy and forgot the thrust of my argument.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 18:03, 1 reply)

reductil
as many of you may know, i used to be so big that i'd give mr. creosote a run for his bucket. when i decided to lose weight, my doctor prescribed reductil.
now, reductil is sibutramine and acts very much like speed that you can buy from dodgy men on street corners. it was an experimental drug at the time, so i was only to be given them for 6 months.
after the initial 6 months, i'd lost 2 stones, so my doctor decided to increase my dosage.
this is where it all went tits up.
i didn't lose any more weight, biut the increased dosage meant that i was extremely tense, jumpy, paranoid and angry. i slept an average of an hour and a half per night. my skin looked grey, my hair was lank and i had the attention span of a stunned kitten. after 2 years on this stuff, i saw a new doctor, who immediately stopped me taking them. i felt rough as a sandpaper gusset for a few days, but i'm glad i wasn't taking them any more.
reductil dispensation has now been stopped in england, as it has been linked to strokes and heart attacks. a woman on the same weight loss course as me suffered a very bad stroke after 2 weeks on the pills.
i consider myself bloody lucky and, to anyone considering sibutramine as a weight-loss aid, i'd say this: don't, just don't.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 17:51, 5 replies)

All I'm saying is:
Grabbin' Pills!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=mK9pEP_Ko7I
(The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 17:15, Reply)

Damn I love my GP
Over the past 6 years he's prescribed:-
Oramorph - Makes things all warm and fuzzy, I can understand why morphine addicts love the stuff.
Dihydrocodeine - See above but a bit less so. Gave me terrible constipation but it was a blast when I, ahem, 'forgot' to avoid alcohol. It's almost like a truth drug! That's one company Xmas bash that I'll rmember for a while!!
Trials of Sativex - A THC based drug that really works for neuropathic pain. A British invention that our own NHS took aaaaages to approve. Niceish effect but gave me cottonmouth. See above re alcohol.
Pregabalin. "Just up your dose until the pain becomes tolerable" OK then!! Gives a MJ like high for HOURS. Unfortunately it also give serious munchies and verbal diarrhoea - not a good combination when you're trying to work. Oh, BTW don't even attempt to drive if affected DAMHIKT.
Next stop - lidocaine patches and Buprenorphine sublinguals, they've even looked at intravenous Ketamine!

And all this shit's legal! Almost worth the underlying nerve damage that's causing the pain.*




*No it fucking isn't - not even a little bit.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 15:44, 2 replies)

When watching The Matrix
...does anyone else always think "The red pill OR the blue pill? Gimme five of each, and have you got any others?"
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 15:16, 5 replies)

Drugs mess up your pants.
I'd been out and got trashed. Done many pills, and a bit of the other. Felt rough as fuck as a consequence the next day.

Went to the pub (a Rat and Parrot) as it was nearest. Usually I would avoid those sort of places, but I needed booze to cure the pain...

I had a couple of ciders then that familiar need to have a crap began to assert itself. No problems, I thought, I'll go to the toilet in a sec. The stomach cramps arrived suddenly and severely. I doubled over, and sprinted to the toilets, relieving myself in a hideously messy way...

Then I noticed there was no toilet paper.

I began to curse and babble under my breath, bemoaning my hangover and bringing down curses on the negligent cleaners. Panicking, and saying a brief prayer for my trousers and dignity, I hobbled to the other trap. Also paperless.

This left me a dilemma. A significant problem in fact. I could either have a messy bottom (unacceptable) or improvise...

Suffice to say, I ended up sockless, and commando.

I left the pub rapidly, but as I was exiting the door, I heard a scream of horror coming from the gents. The cleaner had belatedly found their way to the toilet...

I've not been back there.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Wed 22 Sep 2010, 14:47, 1 reply)

cake
It affects teh part of teh brain known as "Shatner's Basson".....don't want to end up all blewty on a quack candle tho....jessop jessop jessop anyone?
(stonersmurf stuckin' foned, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 13:48, 10 replies)

I was walking down the road recently...
...and I saw a woman rocking to and fro in a chair on her porch. She had no teeth, wild, grey hair, and her frail hands were shaking. Her face was creviced with deep wrinkles, and her eyes bloodshot and unfocussed. As I passed her she called out to me "young man, take a good look. Since I was 15 years old I have smoked every day, drunk every day, taken cocaine every day, and consumed all manner of of pills. I can tell you none of its done me any harm, and today is my birthday".
"Happy birthday!", I said, "how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
"28", she replied.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 13:46, Reply)

Now that I've found Jesus...
I don't take drugs no more!


(don't take them no less either!)
( Vambo, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 13:45, 12 replies)

I used to do drugs
I still do, but I used to, too
( applehead herp derp, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 13:05, 3 replies)

I was seriously tripping last night
Mrs Sandettie rearranged all the furniture and then hid the light bulbs.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 12:04, 2 replies)

This QOTW is making me want to do some E.
Probably not to go out clubbing, but just to sit in and enjoy some.

My question to the panel is: assuming I can find some, considering I am about to enter my late 30s, and am now the owner of a flat, a long term girlfriend/fiancé, and do a 9-5 dull grey job - will it be fun, or just a rather sad nostalgia trip which will prove to be not as good as I remember?
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 11:45, 59 replies)

I have only really smoked dope
but I found at different stages, it had different effects.

Age 16: After a few tries, where nothing really happened at all, my brain suddenly took a liking to it and I used to trip. I would sit in an armchair for 4 hours, convinced all my teeth had fallen out and were rolling around my mouth.

Age 18: Super relaxed, wasn't really fit to function outside the house, but not trippy. Used to record lots of wierd music with flatmate, using a DX7, drumkit, guitars and 4 track recorder. Neighbour once punched flatmate in the face because of the noise. Oops.

Age 20 - 22: Smoked a lot, could function perfectly in most circumstances. Occasional paranoia.

Stopped for about 10 years.

30ish: Tried it a few times, no high, just got drowsy, and would noramlly fall asleep.

Gave up until

35ish: Bought some from a workmate, tried it once and got high, but felt quite anxious. I think it was prob becuase it was skunk, which I had never tried before. Left the stuff in my study at home, and it went mouldy.

haven't tried it for 5-6 years now, I suspect will just make me sleep.
( Not Pineapple anymore, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 11:42, 3 replies)

Hamburgled
After a particularly keen session, hotboxing a friends shed, we walked to the nearest fast food establishment to cure the ever present munchie syndrome.

My friend, Jack (for that is his name) couldnt stop giggling as he ordered his Whopper. When asked why he had erupted into giggles he informed us all that he had just been served by none other than Ronald McDonald.

In Burger King no less...
(Eggstrovert isnt patronising you...honest..., Wed 22 Sep 2010, 11:28, 3 replies)

I got stoned for a whole month, one night.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 22 Sep 2010, 10:34, 1 reply)