nO mORE
Reading all theese posts reminds me why I stopped taking drugs 10 years ago. Oh that and being rushed to hospital because my kidneys had stopped funtioning after spending a weekend taking numerous E`s and snorting lines of charlie longer than my arm. Well that was a fun few weeks in hospital!!
(Smumps, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:53, Reply)

an actual regret
though I don't do them at all any more, I can't bring myself to actually regret most of my drug taking experiences.

Apart from the butane gas. My mate Dan and I used to buy a tin of butane ond inhale the stuff. One time I was out cold for, apparently, about three quarters of an hour, and he was convinced I was dead. I t wasn't even that good really, and I'm convinced it's mullered my brain permanenty - I used to be really good at maths & stuff and have a mega high IQ, and now I'm not at all like that. Bummer.
(teasus likes tea, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:27, Reply)

T'aint really about saying something
But, this was prob my worst experience. When I was in school I got stoned during lunchtime, as I know I have a nothing lesson after lunch. (Practicals, which basically meant pissing around with circuits whilst the teacher pissed off somewhere). I come in the classroom about 15 mins late, and everybody's sitting there silently working. I don't have a clue what's going on, until it hits me. They've sprung us with a surprise mock exam. I have no calculator, no paper, not even a fucking pen. I try to do the qustions for about half an hour, rocking backwards and forwards, and at one point mock sobbing, then give up and just leave early. I was predicted an A. I got a fucking U (mark so low you don't even get a grade).
(Habacock, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:26, Reply)

Quick, look casual
After a long, hard day that included getting up early to look for a new job and finding one, then relaxing in a steam bath, I went to an Animals concert (in 1983) with my brothers and one of their friends. Before we left, the friend passed around a joint, and given my little sleep, exhaustion and recent sweating in the spritz, my usually poor resistance evaporated.

At some point I realized I was incapable of functioning, and I figured they were going to laugh at me for being so stoned. To try and combat this before it happened, I decided I needed to look sober enough and natural. What do people do when they want to look casual as if nothing is happening? Why, look out the window. Made sense to me.

So I went over to the window and looked out it. Unfortunately, it was about the size of a computer screen and designed to let in a little light from it's height of about 11 feet or so above my head. So there I am, in the middle of the floor, casually staring at a window twice my height from the floor that I could see just a patch of sky out of.

Smooth.
(ChiTown Guy Dating when 35+: sane, single, attractive - pick 2, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:21, Reply)

Plane
In halls last year we took some mushrooms and some LSD. Now, I dont remember any of this but ive seen video footage that our 'safe guy' filmed. Apparently i thought our corridor was the inside of a space shuttle and that it was turning. I started trying to stay on the floor but since it was revolving i was jumping into the walls and attempting a 180 jump and almost landing on my neck several times until the floor returned to its natural habitat, the floor.
Our 'safe guy' has since taped over the footage. the twat.
Length and Girth. Yum.
(Grizzly, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:20, Reply)

Last Xmas day.
I was invited to go to a party on Xmas day last year. The people that ran the place cleared it with management and opened the place for a select few. There must have been around 50 of us in the place, tops. All this in a place that has a capacity for around 2000, so was a very odd, and cold experience.
The management had also purchased, at trade price, two 3 litre bottles of JD, 2 3 litre bottles of vodka and seemingly endless amount of lager / ales. Plus the free usage of the coke / lemonade tap behind the bar.
Within minutes of getting there, everyone was moaning about how they've really not enjoyed the day so far and how their family was arguing etc.
I then realised that a few of my friends have disappeared somewhere. I must remind you I was stone cold sober at the time. One of my mates turned up and said "go upstairs to the office" where I found the most amount of columbian nose candy I've seen in one place. I partook, as you do and wandered back down the stairs to the rest of the people.
One bloke managed to bring along a bottle of absinthe which I said I wasn't going to touch. As the spirits were pretty much free-pour, a few hours I started to feel a bit mashed.
Around 1am is the last time I can remember. Next thing I know I woke up in my own bed, with no trousers on.
Later on Boxing Day, my mates filled me in on the details of the previous night with much mirth.
Apparently, as I was the only one not to have touched Absinthe out of the whole party, they dared me to have a shot of it. I vaguely recall this.
For the next 20 minutes apparently, I was running around like a nutter trying to chat up the lady who normally works on the door, completely ignoring the fact that her bouncer boyfriend was at the same party.
Around 10 minutes after I'd calmed down, they found me, at the bottom of a metal staircase, face pressed up against a fire escape. I'd fallen down the stairs, and at some point, taken my trousers AND my boxers off. Amazingly, my wallet and phone were actually in my jacket pocket.
One of the people there who was sober managed to drive me home, open the door and help me inside. I still don't know who that person was, if they really were sober, or what the FUCK happened to my lower half's clothing.
Coke and Absinthe. Just say "fuck off"

PS No-one ever found my trousers.
( vulga is a foul mouthed cunt, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:19, Reply)

The Drugs Don't Work
My brain is obviously wired up all wrong. All the recreational substances I have sampled have left me completely unmoved.

Not so my companions at a football match a few years ago. While I sat in the away end at Everton feeling cheated at the fact that large quantities of pills and doobage had produced the usual zero effect, my poor, poor somewhat-under-the-influence friend was shown the exit by some extremly burly stewards.

Of course, having a panic attack over a fifty-foot Neville Southall trying to climb into the stand to eat him does tend to single you out a bit in a crowd.

Kids! SAY NO TO EVERTON!
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:05, Reply)

Purple Ohms
After a night on the acid we decided that we should watch 'The last Temptation of Christ'.

Fuck knows why.

I spent the entire film clueless. Tripping out of my head.

In all the scenes where they were crying i thought they were all having a good old laugh.

I interpreted it as Jesus engineering his persecution to make money and the Romans were all in on it.
Behind the scenes they were laughing it up at the gullible public who were mourning the persecution of the son of God.

Good old acid.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 12:00, Reply)

Hamster balls
1st time trying out acid. In a local pub back home near Edinburgh. Mates are giving us grief about how we're taking that pish, while they are firing pints down their necks at a rate of knots. Anyway, ended up seeing my mate coming through the door while I knew he was playing me at pool. Every time I looked at the door I saw him coming in to the room. And realising that "Death in Vegas" are the best band in the world to listen to when you're tripping (try it - awesome!!).
On the way home, I was convinced that I was in a giant hamster ball, and was using my hands to get it to roll me home. Shat meself when I had to walk down hill as I thought it'd roll away, so was leaning way back going down hill. As I walked past the river, I thought that as the ball was plastic I'd be able to float it home as my house was just beside the river. Needless to say, it never worked. but that was because the hamster ball was full of holes - otherwise I would have suffocated by that point.

Not done acid for years, and probably wont again, as getting hold of it is aboutu as easy as flyingin the air these days.
(2headedturtle, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:54, Reply)

A few years ago
at Brighton Racecourse, the Valve Soundsystem were playing. It was an all-nighter and having been to work all day, I decided I would need a "sharpener" to pick me up in the small hours. At the last minute, my mate let me down, so I thought fuck it and went on my own. Now, I don't do a lot of drugs, but when it's an all-nighter or similar party, it's rude not to, right?
Anyway... Anyone who has ever experienced the Valve Soundsystem will know of it's awesome power in the bass / sub-bass department. Seriously makes you think your internal organs are dancing.
I'd only been drinking since I finished work and didn't think anything of it until around 2am when I felt myself flagging a bit.
Remembering the pills I had stashed in a sock (I'm always a bit paranoid) and in my slightly pissed-up state I managed to accidentally bang two down my throat instead of just the one. Around 2:30ish I remember having the biggest rush I think I've ever had. This was quickly followed by my immediate need to get to the toilet.

Within seconds of the cubicle door being slammed shut behind me, I painted the place. I was just about able to focus on things and had a really nice warm feeling. Apart from the feeling I was going to chunder again. Then the smell hit me. I focussed. Then I realised that the cubicle I'd gone in to was available only because at some stage the toilet had become blocked.
I can only assume that others at the gathering were in a similar state to me, because it hadn't seemed to have bothered them either. The toilet was literally overflowing with shit, piss, and finally, like a cherry on a trifle, my puke.
When I realised this I was sick again. More tactfully, hitting just the floor. After a while I went back out to the main arena where I positioned myself in front of the bass bins, sat down and smoked a cigarette. I don't know how long I was there for, but one of the bouncers came up to me and asked (in fact shouted) if I was alright. I gave him the thumbs up and he looked at me again. This time he was touching his top lip and gesturing towards me. I touched my top lip, looked at my hand and it was covered in blood.
The "warm feeling" that had enveloped half of my face was in fact my blood. Just trickling from my nose. The bass was so savage my nose had started to bleed. Possibly hours earlier.

On the Monday I went to see the doctor about a throat problem and he said that I'd "burnt" it somehow. I said that "for some reason" I was vomiting over the weekend and he said that the stomach acid has burnt my throat. As for the nosebleed, well... That was my fault too.
( vulga is a foul mouthed cunt, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:53, Reply)

Drugs ARE good
I was once tasked with rolling a joint after a night on the E's and acid.

I then proceeded to eat each rizla that came out the packet in sort of bird like bursts.

Despite my state i can honestly remember the utter confusion induced by the rizlas. I suppose i assumed that they 'must be food' or something.

Several hours later i 'awoke' to find 2 skins stuck together in front of me. Halcyon days.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:52, Reply)

chortle
If you where mashed, wide eyed and gurning at the time you should know it is easily possible to not look like yourself!
(Minty Hit, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:47, Reply)

hmmmm
After two years on every cannabis filled occasion, some compadres and I are still trying to figure out who would win in a fight between 50 duck sized horses and one horse sized duck. There are good arguments for both, but I firmly believe in the latter. (he’s got massive wings!)
(Baron T, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:43, Reply)

chortle
After being exceedingly mashed at a party in Nottingham, me and some chums bonged out a room in the loft, with only a ‘book of facts’ to keep us company. After a few challenging debates anout these ‘facts’ we learned that Charlie chaplin once came third in a Charlie chaplin look alike contest (we later found this out to in fact be true). After some substantial time trying to figure out how it’s possible to look less like yourself, we agreed that it simply can’t be true. Can anyone disprove this? Please, for my sanity…
(Baron T, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:40, Reply)

more!
On a very recent session on the biftas with a few mates, we got locked in deep philosophical, and scientific discussions, which were ultimately bollocks. After spending a long time trying to work out the speed of heat (?!) we firmly believed that heat is faster than light?! Given that if the sun went supernova, we would burn before we saw it…… fact. (at least it was at the time)
(Baron T, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:35, Reply)

one of many i think!
Hmmm, got a few of these; once on a pretty good acid trip after eating some shrooms, I was standing between two speakers listening to Joss stone, believing I was a sound wave!
(Baron T, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:33, Reply)

Friend becomes taxi-man
A friend rings me relatively early on in the night and all he can hear is me shouting at a bunch of scumbags, then shouting at him to get here quick and meet me at the nearest Abrakebabra (Dublin kebab chain). No drugs taken, but I've been drinking for hours and am clearly off me nuts.

For my safety, he agrees to come pick me up.

When he arrives he calls again, and I proceed to abuse him down the phone for not having a kebab ready and waiting, even though I've been at Abra for nigh on 15 minutes.

After much negotiation, I get in the passenger seat so he can drive me home. After 5 minutes of a 15-minute journey, I've completely forgotten who my friend is and assume I'm in a taxi, so I start giving him directions back to my house.

He plays along, trying to take lots of wrong turns and laughing hysterically. When we reach my house, I ask 'Right, what's the damage, mate?' and he responds by pointing at the clock on the dashboard, saying: 'That'll be 11.47, pal.'

I pat my pockets, look with deepest honesty into his eyes and say 'I'm going to have to owe you that, alright?' I try to make my escape via the back seat, and in doing so, become wedged in the gap between the driver and passenger seats with my drunken arse pointing forwards.
(Coomy, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:21, Reply)

The importance of research
An earlier poster said that you shouldn't take antidepressants and alcohol as it will make you suicidal. Far be it from me to dismiss his experience, but I've never found antidepressants+alcohol to be a problem - if anything, the normality caused by taking the pills makes drinking a much nicer experience. Serving suggestion only, contents may differ from illustration on pack.

What I CAN tell you doesn't work is E and antidepressants. Having never tried E, I bought a quarter off my mindless drug hoover housemate to take at a party we were having (on the reasoning that, if anything untoward happened brain-wise, I'd be in a comparatively safe place). People warned me constantly "Don't drink on E", so I diligently prepared by NOT drinking (surrounded by free booze, this was quite difficult for me).

I took the first quarter at 9pm, assured that it would kick in fully in about an hour.

10pm. Nothing much, really.

11pm. Mindless drug hoover housemate is feeling a bit guilty (and puzzled - he'd taken some of the same batch himself and found them Eminently Suitable) and gives me another quarter.

12pm. "Fuck this! I'm drinking!" I loudly declare.

I then have a civilized and pleasant early morning, going to bed at 4am without any of the fuzzy effects of going without sleep. I later woke up feeling a bit dry mouthed, but basically sound as a pound.

It was only then of course that I did the research that I should have done two days ago, which was to find that SSRIs and MDMA are sufficiently similar to cancel each other out. When your teachers nagged you to do your homework, you shoulda listened.
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:18, Reply)

Glade Festival this Year!
One of the most pant wettingly funny episodes in my sordid drug history was the final day of Glade Festival this year.

Magic Mushrooms made illegal: 18th July 2005

The final day of the Glade Festival: 18th July 2005

All the stalls selling the mushrooms had “by law” to get rid of their stock by the end of the night… yes you probably know what is coming next “FREE MUSHROOMS FOR ALL”.

The campsite was an absolute mess, hundreds of people walking around with no idea what was going on… everybody was completely fucked and the following incident sums it up nicely:

I decided it was time to get a burger. Walking down to the van I noticed these two guys, both had just purchased chips and both where having trouble standing. One of them, doing his best Elvis leg wobble impersonation and gripping the side of the van for support, turns the other and proclaims loudly “We’ve gone a bit wrong tonight mate!!!” to which the other promptly exploded into fits of laugher spraying half eaten chips from his mouth.

The first guy then noticed a group of people sitting on a bench nearby staring intently at him. He staggered over to them one unsteady step after another and thrust his chips towards them saying “Wan any food?!”. One of them was so surprised by the sudden appearance of insane man wielding a half eaten plate of chips in front of him that he cried out and fell backwards of the bench.

This may be (like many of these stories) a “had to be there” moment but I can honestly say I have never laughed so hard in my life!
(Minty Hit, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 11:10, Reply)

Magical cookies
Me and two friends decided to round up the festive season by making some magical herby cookies laced with enough nutmeg to kill a cow. They were minging. We were all fairly inexperienced imbuers. G was the first casualty being very sick, stumbling to sleep it off and promptly falling over. Me and P stayed up and watched High Fidelity (the flashback scenes really messed with him). One of our over friends kept ringing in a Ring stylee to try and freak us out which failed but just talking to him normally sent me on a twitching paranoic one of epic proportions. Time had folds in it I got convinced I was missing huge chunks of the conversation and at other times that he was my mum.
Finally I took to bed to sleep it off, G came back down to find P in the kitchen eating 12 crumpets and earnestly discussing sharks with spiders for eyes.

I think we'll stick to magical curry. It has a much milder effect.
(Bunnygirl, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:58, Reply)

Best. Wank. EVER.
Actually, I don't regret this at all. The only time I've ever smoked even remotely decent pot was this one time when one of a series of Housemates from Hell moved in, and his dad rolled us all a Camberwell Carrot to reward us for our hard work (possibly the only hard work this little cocksucker had ever done). Well now.

I went to bed and closed my eyes and watched black-on-black chessboards swirl and morph behind my eyelids. The entire mass of the universe was concentrated in my clitoris and the ensuing wank caused universes to rise and fall. I then slept like a brick for fourteen hours.

Smoking has hardly seemed worth it since.
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:56, Reply)

Floor 13 CSB....
Same Uni.. obviously. We had a floormate called Tristan...
The joy of smoking a bucket was taught to him, and we spent many an evening enjoying the rise and fall of a big coke bottle in a bin. *bliss*

As tristan's room had windows on two sides, it was his room that was the "potting shed" (a name that would later be used to describe the mountin-bike-club's frame-tent). To cut a potentially long and boring short... in a paranoid and stoned state, Tristan opened all windows, and accidentally kicked over the full bucket.

He then went to sleep. He woke up mildly hypothermic (it was february, and he was 13 floors up) and adding injury to insult, he slipped on the floor: now a solid sheet of ice, and broke his wrist.

I have photos, but won't post them as they're far too incriminating.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:44, Reply)

workboresme
Just go to the party! You don't need to get off your tits to have a good time!
(Minty Hit, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:40, Reply)

Morrisions Custard Doughnuts.
Ideed it as Ogwen, and yes, you'd monged out ages ago at that point ;o) one of the best sunday mornings ever :o)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:36, Reply)

Mates Room
CSB Building, Huddersfield Uni (when it used to be Halls)
Floor 10.
I was fairly new to the joys of weed - Biskit and Rhubarb_triangle were not (one of the few occasions Humpty was not there)
nothing particularly outlandish, only Jayne tooting away and declaring "this stuffs crap -doesnt work at all, but doesn't the artex look like stars.......).
At the end of the night I got sleepy (surprise) and decided that a nap was in order. Well in fairness i say end of the night, this was probably about 4am. Where is the best place to sleep in a bedroom (clue there - BED room) That's right under a desk. And what is the best thing to sleep in when you have brought a sleeping bag? Thats right, a towel. And what is the best pillow? thats right, aforementionned sleeping bag.

Slept like a baby...
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 10:03, Reply)

Humpty...
Was it Morrisons Custard Dougnuts perchance? I think it was (Was I asleep by this point?)
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 9:56, Reply)

Repost...
....from the police QOTW, but it fits better here than in the other one :)

oOo

Years ago, before they were made Class A, a bunch of mates including me, some cousins and my brother used to order in a good few trips and dole them out amongst the assembled - usually ended up being around a dozen of us. It became tradition that by whatever time we were all firmly under t'influence, we'd troop over to the town's main park to play football tag in the park's ornamental gardens in the dead of night - cracking good fun, but that's not the police story...

...the story is the journey home after one of these forays in the park. My brother, one of his mates named Ste and myself took a different route to the rest. A police car approached, slowed and stopped while we were ambling along a fast-asleep 'burb street at something like 5am. Bear in mind here that my brother and Ste both had criminal records and outstanding warrants at the time, so giving thier real names wasn't an option. So ensued a quick muttered exchange of aliases while these coppers sat there for a moment probably saying 'Look at the fucking state of these three'.

They got out and looked us up and down, three scallyish looking lads with pupils in eclipse, numerous scratches, bits of twig stuck to us and sweat still sticking the clothes to our bodies after spending the last 3+ hours alternately chasing and fleeing one another in pitch darkness whilst laughing like maniacs - gotta love those microdots. Anyway, questions were put to us and whilst myself and my brother were cool as cucumbers despite appearances, Ste was a mess - biting his lower lip so much it disappeared inside his mouth, hurriedly and repeatedly wringing his hands and running them through his hair, even fucking up his alias. And as for how his eyes looked - oh dear :)

My brother and I briefly exchanged bemused 'WTF' glances and turned to see the coppers doing exactly the same. They actually looked sorry for him. Finally, one of them asked us how far we were from home - we weren't far and said so. Turning to leave he said 'I suggest you go there - quick'. 'No fear, mate' my brother replied, audibly relived as Ste had in some fucked-up way gotten them both off the hook. We ambled off at a slightly quickened pace while the coppers got back into the car, grinning. One of my cousins' pads had been designated as base that night, and a bong mix was already running upon our arrival - lovely :D

I could tell you about another time playing acid-fuelled football tag in the park gardens when I found Ste crammed into a space half his size about 8 feet up in a tall, previously quite well-sculpted bush so he wouldn't end up being 'IT' - I'll never forget the look of glee in his eyes, or the look of 'oh, fuck' when I said 'but what if I end up being IT though?'.

oOo

Not dropped any trips for years now - since they got made Class A, the money wasn't worth the risk to the lads we used to score from - a pity. After reading all these though, I'm strongly considering going shopping for a bong at some point over the hols ;)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 9:08, Reply)

There's one born again every minute...
This is not a bizzarre hallucination, nor is it an epic journey of trippyness.. just a great and wonderful example of why I love to get caned every now and then...

University... infact, 56 Birkhouse Lane in Huddersfield...

A couple of us were ever so slightly mashed when a door-to-door religon salesman came to explain why thier life of dulness was better than ours. Whilst sauntering up to the door, I remarked "I bet they're both called "Edler" or something..." and we opened the door to be confronted by a couple of "elders" who were younger than us, and tried to tell us how they knew more about life than we did. We disolved into fits of giggles. No amount of attempted composure would save us, and we collapsed on the floor in the doorway pointing and laughing at them. It wasn't even funny... but we laughed and laughed and laughed. The elders eventualy stopped trying, and left. We went to get doughnuts...

ahhh... pure mirth.. It goes such a long long way :o)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 19 Dec 2005, 8:57, Reply)

Ginger
My mate got so ripped on E he shagged a ginger bird.

Remember kids drugs are bad
(Smumps, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 8:22, Reply)