Glasto goats milk
Years ago at a very, very wet Glasto ('85)the only way to cope was to take shitloads of acid. In said state (at least 4 tabs each) me, hubby-to-be & 2 mates were sat in this veggie tea tent chillin' with a cuppa - like ya do!

There was a bunch of wanna-be hippy chicks (straight out of Chelt'nam Ladies) who were partaking of the veggie salad lovingly prepared by the people running the tent. They were awf'ly awf'ly if you know what I mean & kept banging on about who had the 'beccy' (we then sussed it was the Old Holborn they were taking about!). Anyway, one of them realised she had a tin of sardines in her tent which would supplement the salad rather nicely, so off she pops & returns with the sardines - so far so good. However, these rather posh young ladies had obviously never opened a tin of sardines in their lives (the butler did it!) & pulled off the key instead of turning it back - silly cows.
The palava that ensued to try & open the tin was phenomenal! Not one brain cell was in evidence, making a mockery of private education in the process! The four of us sat there completely off our tits fascinatedly watching this scenario unfold before us. By then we were drinking a pint of unpasteurised goats milk bought earlier, passing it between us etc, and rolling & smoking some rather tasty spliffs. Finally they opened the tin & shared out the sardines - phew. One of my mates then commented that our milk tasted funny ... to which, at the top of his voice so the whole tent could hear, my old man replied "Tastes like fucking sardines to me!". To which we just all completely collapsed in identical cackling & howling heaps (maybe you had to be there!!?)
I've never seen anyone finish their food so quick & fuck off before the mad muddy hippies in the corner stopped laughing - ace!!

And the moral of the story - just say yes, kids!

Also - I don't regret it!!
(norma stitz, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 16:19, Reply)

My Dad
is an abstract artist. He used to share a house with timothy Leary and did lots of LSD "experiments". His wife has no idea that he ever took drugs, even though he's no longer quite there....

He was genuinely disappointed for me when I told him I was no longer taking drugs.

(edit - PS that's my real Dad not the evil stepfather from the last qotw!)
(teasus likes tea, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 16:18, Reply)

Can't really explain this.
We were 'shroomed up and being rude to passers by, or at least obscure.

I asked a passing gent (tweed coat, elbow patches, pipe etc.) if he could possibly loan me his chainsaw. He patted his pockets, chuckled and said sorry, but that he appeared to have left it on his dresser, popped his pipe in his pocket and wandered off.

As he meandered away, his pocket began to smoke and there was the flickering of flames before he turned the corner. Clearly a hallucination.

But wait! 12 years later I get told the same story by Gustave, a co-conspirator (and far more munted than I on the day). I felt an immediate need to seek out Brian Johnson (No, not that Brian Johnson) and it appears that the kindly, if benign, old gent really di set his pocket aflame.

Marvelous stuff.
( Lord Manley of Ven www.justgiving.com/manley - please?, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 16:06, Reply)

suicide?
One of my old drug-buddies was a bit too keen on the really hard stuff, and had decided to move away and go straight. A mutual mate told me a while later that his drink had been spiked, and that on the following high he'd leapt from the top of a multistorey carpark convinced he could fly. I was really gutted, wept, and was depressed for some time.



I bumped into him a couple of years later.
(teasus likes tea, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:58, Reply)

Space Port
Once when I was tripping in Cardiff we decided to go for a bit of a wander and buy some lemonade. The only place open at stupid o'clock was Mario's kebab house, and whilst in there I became utterly convinced that we were infact in a spaceport, and when it came time to leave, I was completely unable to , as I knew that when outside I wouldn't be able to breathe.

I spent a considerable amount of time wailing that we needed to wait for our 'space-transports', or at the very least, find some sort of helmets. I was 100% convinced...
(Kong, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:46, Reply)

not me but a friend
(as all the best stories start)

Friend of mine was in a club and was looking to err 'heighten his enjoyment'...

Ended up paying 15 quid for some small pink pills - and to all intents and purposes was having a great time.

Obviously being a bit of a mover on the dance floor, he was soon aproached by a lovely lady asking him he if wanted to go off to the toilets and 'give her one'.

Thinking his luck was in, he was promptly led away by this saucy minx and soon got down to business.

Unfortunately, the effects of the little pink items he had recently obtained were now starting to wear off and before he knew it, my friend realised he was in fact standing on the dancefloor still, with his trousers round his ankles masturbating furiously (much to the sheer horror and amazement of onlookers)

It was then that i my friend decided to go home.
(well its not going to suck itself yadda yadda yadda, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:44, Reply)

The DRugs
Once when I had smoked something and we had run out of Golden V, my mtes and I went to the local offey. I was so out of my tree that I asked for a bail of rolling hay. Realised my mistake and then asked for a bail of hay. Still no joy so i then just ended up pointing to the tobacco. What drugs do to you ey!
(lizardkingqc, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:38, Reply)

....
I wanna marry some of you guys in here! You sound like u know how to have a good time!
(Fran, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:14, Reply)

Lame in comparism to some
A few years back i and a few other people were sent to Warrington to work for a few months. Every weekend we'd go to Liverpool for a night in Cream. Some stories i can remember.

- Banging on the window of EVERY car asking how much back to Warrington (£40 by taxi, £20 by random bloke ! - bargain!)

- Getting back to hotel room, turning hot tap on, running an extremely fucking hot bath and climbing and sleeping. If anyone knows about hotels, the hot water is fucking hot! How i didnt drown/boil alive i'll never know

Night on Absinthe once (that counts as drug like right?). Drank half a bottle and decided to test how sharp kitchen knives were. Grabbing big meat knife in dagger grip and dragging it across my arm, not once, not even twice, but repeatedly. I am now the proud owner of a large scar on my left thanks to an evening on Absinthe !
(Laxly, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:14, Reply)

Oasis Manchester gig this year
Me and a group of mates were on the train down to manchester to go and see Oasis. All feeling in a jovial mood and having been drinking since 8:00am we decided it was time to have a pill on the train down, cue much silliness on the train and a mass theft of silly hats from tie rack booth at Manchester Picadilly, once inside the gig and considerable amount of narcotics later we were well and truly spangled and having a great time when a young lady sheepishly taps my mate on his shoulder and asks "excuse me, do you know your on fire?" looking down i saw the first 6 inches or so of his right jean leg were ablaze. He then proceeded to dance around in a rave like frenzy trying to put out the flames. We still have no idea how the blaze started.
( Ceteri, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:12, Reply)

my lovely man...
...after a looong looong night with many many pints downed, he decided to roll a spliff on the balcony, then came to bed. After keeping me awake for half an hour breathing 'i looove you, you're so speeecial' right into my face with stinky beer puke and weed breath, he fell asleep. I was rudely awakened at 6 in the morning by him shuffling paper bags around in the corner of the room, where the dry cleaning and results of my shopping trip to edinburgh were temporarily stored, asked him what he was doing - 'looking for my tie' he replied so i went back to sleep.

Only to be re-awakened by the sound of trousers slipping down hairy legs and the splashy sound of weewee - sure enough, he was pissing in the corner of the bedroom.

I leapt out of bed in kung-fu stylee, and started hitting and kicking him - 'hey chill out, i'm just taking a piss' was the not-bothered reply - so i pushed him, still peeing, into the shower and turned the water on. It may have been a bit hot as he started screaming and threated to push my nose to the other side of my face, so i shoved him into the computer room and locked the door.

After an hour of sobbing as I poured a gallon of piss out of my brand new leather boots and wrung out the dry cleaning into the bath i left the house for the day.

He finally called me from the computer room (door still locked) at about 5 in the evening and sheepishly asked why i had locked him in the room - he didnt believe me then but he certainly did when i stuck his nose into my boot and they didnt smell of leather no more.

To be fair, though he did buy me new shoes and cleaned the flat for 2 months, but we have an agreement now that if we smokes weed when drunk he sleeps on the balcony. I don't care if it's december.
(chesty, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:10, Reply)

Always with pills
I always come out with loads of shit when I'm pill'd up.

Last New Years Eve I stood up in a room full of people and proclaimed 'Ronald Regan eat my pie' at the top of my voice.

Later in the night after dropping again I was quietly enjoying myself, gurning, in the corner. My mate asked me what I was thinking of. My drug addled reply was 'I don't know, I just can't stop thinking about Baccla and the 20 foot chaffinch.

Even later I declared that I was going to have a piss and was concerned incase I pissed out a Lizard.

Also, in the club one time I tripped out on the dance floor and was convinced I was trying to smuggle an Ak47 past the bouncers so I could keep it on the floor of my cave.

Or there was the time me and a mate went clubbing after boshing tonnes of hawian (sic) mushrooms and simply stood at the side of the dance floor laughing at how fucking fast everybody in the club was moving and how people left light trails in the air behind them. It was great fun until we say this bloke who looked like he was gonna die from a wasting disease, we skitzed out and left.

I could go on but I wont.
(Manatee Fondler, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 15:09, Reply)

drugs make you creative
once i showed another man my cock.
'put that away' he said.
(bossypops, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:50, Reply)

and another...
one night my flatmates brother came to stay the night, bringing a couple of bags of 'shrooms with him. we made them into a fine drop of tea and spent the best part of five hours laughing uncontrollably at nothing.

most amusing was when my mate decided to get himself a glass of water, then put it down and forget about it without drinking a drop. he repeated this every half hour until there was no more room on the table. it was then that he asked us where all the water had come from.

guess you had to be there :(
(secretsquirrel, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:44, Reply)

when i was at uni...
...we had a party in the back garden of the halls and consumed large amounts of booze and weed. by the end of the evening i was one of the last few people still awake and i was sitting on the grass with my mates girlfriend. i felt the need to have a heart to heart with her and tell her that i'd always felt a bit wary around her cos she could be quite an intimidating girl. after baring my soul to her, she turned to me, head bobbing as she battled to stay awake, and simply said "spoooooooon!".

i've no idea why and she had no memory of it the following day!

first post... (was it worth the wait?)
(secretsquirrel, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:40, Reply)

Tits N Bits
When I was a student I spent a few happy summers working on a fruit farm. This place was great with around 100 students from around the world working there with a continully revolving new bunch arriving and departing every week. As a Brit, I was part of the permanent crew who was there for the whole summer. The pay was crap but it was enough to eat,smoke and drink on so all was well with my world.

I'll cut a long story short but I ended up spenfin one summer with a stunning Irish lass called Helen. She was deeply tanned from working in the fields in just a bikini and I was the envy of the the rest of the fanny-rats - I had the fittest bird on the farm.

One night I'd managed to get a hold of the only tab of acid on the site - it'd been sitting in a guys wallet for two years so we weren't sure if it was still potent - and i dropped it just before going to the pub with Helen.

In the pub, I was taking it easy, waiting for the acid to kick-in so I wasn't drinking much but, after an hour, nothing had happened so I gave the acid up as duff and started drinking at my normal pace. At kicking out time I was quite mellow and, putting my arm around Helen, we headed out into the night.

Show Time! When the fresh-air hit me I could smell the incredible scent of roses and then the sky started to flash on and off in muti-coloured hues. The trees as I was walking down were morphing into incredible shapes -dragons, giants, dwarves and scurrying through the grass I kept catching glimpses of little elves and pixies. I spellbound, enthralled. I was keeping up a running commentary to Helen about what I was experiencing and then had the bright idea that we had to screw while I was off my head on acid. Helen was up for it so we dashed for my tent and tore our clothes off.

Now this was where things started to go slightly wrong. In my tent it was pitch black and all I could see was a pair of white, disembodied tits floating eerily in the darkness. Helen was so tanned, apart from her tits, that she just faded into the background and left these enourmous boobies floating tantilising in front of me.

I got the fear. I just couldn't cope. In the end I had to leave the tent and sit by the fire for a few hours until I came down. But even to this day I can still close my eyes and see these magnificant breast floating in the air all by themselves.

Thank God they didn't try and talk to me.

Cheers

Legless - P.S. Mods? - Any chance of having my name back?
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:38, Reply)

Not me, but my grandad
Apparently ( I was three at the time ) my uncle used to brew 'herbal tea' when working in the massive garden at the back of my gran's house. Grandad had no idea his son was a stoner. One afternoon Bob had just brewed a nice pot; Grandad came into the kitchen said " cup of tea? Lovely", drank a pint and rotovated the garden- for eight hours.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:26, Reply)

I was stoned.
I was eating a Galaxy bar. What I meant to say to my companions was something along the lines of "this Galaxy bar is very enjoyable and is giving me sensations that are similar to those one might experience when commiting the sexual act."

What I actually said was "It's like an orgasm in my mouth".

I have never been allowed to forget that one.
(JamScones, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:23, Reply)

Robotic Brain Malfunction
Standing under a tree at Glastonbury last time it happened. It starts pissing down so a group of us gather under a tree. Sun eventually comes out at which point I decide to go for a pint.

Goodbye I say to my robotic housemate's exceptionally good looking friend, and kiss her on the cheek. At which point the normally seamless robotic one chirps up.

'I'm sorry Joe, have you met Anna?'

I've just kissed her under an apple tree in a beautiful glade you fucking drug-addled plonker.
(Boss Killer, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:23, Reply)

munching
Got really munted on some skunk in halls, and decided it would be a good idea to calm my demanding stomach by eating hot chocolate powder. Cue the driest mouth ever.

Me and all my friends got happily battered on pills, sitting around smoking and I gave into my urge and crawled under the rug in the lounge. It was really nice and safe under there, and I could see eveyone's feet. I asked my friend if I could do it first, it was her flat.
(woo'snewcockhouse, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:20, Reply)

mmmmm
After a lovely evening out on vodka and red bull, me and my mate jonboy decided to go back to mine for a spliff. After skinning a couple up in my conservatory, me and Jon smoked the aforesaid j's and proceeded to chill out. This unfortunately happened all too quickly for Jonboy, as Jonboy only ever smoked hash and not skunk. And not very often either. So Jon turns a lovely shade of grey and whites out. Thinking that this is awfully hilarious, I leave Jon to his semi conscious ramblings and skin up again. This proves to be my downfall, as soon after I cannot move my head without spinning my tits off. I eventually manage to fall forwards onto the fall and crawl to the open conservatory door, where I lay my head on the edge and puke onto the patio. At some point I remember Jon leaving over my garden fence, and i pass out. I awake in the morning to bright sunshine, and a pool of red bull vomit. Looked surpisingly like sweet and sour sauce. Next door's cat was gently licking at it aswell, which caused a relapse and another pint of puke to exit my body at high speed. Red bull vodka and skunk do not mix. Period. Ha, I said period.
(daverule Poobumwobblebottynobnobsex, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:17, Reply)

Breakfast Horror
The morning after an excellent night on acid with a couple of good friends. I informed Mrs An-D that seeing as I was still full of beans, I would take our son Alex downstairs and provide the 2 year old scamp with some breakfast. With him safely sat in his chair with a bowl of Weetabix, I went into the kitchen to chat to some pals on IRC who had a similar night. What can have only been 10 seconds later I popped my head round the living room door to check on Alex. As I did so, I also heard wife-like footsteps on the stairs. Although Wendy knew what I'd been up to all night, I was deeply concerened what she might have to say about the scene in the living room so I interecepted her on the stairs, fell to my knees, crying because I was laughing so much and begged her not to go into the living room. Why? My silent ninja of a son had waged a small war on the Weetabix, and the Weetabix lost.

www.rogu3trooper.net/photo/albums/userpics/alex/ninja.jpg
( An-D, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:09, Reply)

Why
Sorry sorry sorry just one more lol!

This happened fairly recently.

My mate got hold of a quarter of MDMA for a very cheap price and was looking to sell it, of course it never happened and for two days there was about 8 of us in my house just mixing, smoking weed and taking the mdma.

we all went through our fits of madness at one point I didnt know where we was (i was in my living room) one point we played a game made up by my school teacher friend with an electric weed grinder called the magic talking stick where basically we all had to say one word about how we was feeling but could only talk when holding the magic stick (yes I know we are weirdo's)

Anyway one of my friends had brought down with her a coloured paper 10 page love letter written by an ex in 1998, she wanted me to read it and after I did I put in on my window seal.

the bloke who has brought down the mdma made a very large bomb of it and swallowed it down.

about 20 minutes later we was all just sitting on my bed talking shit to each other when from the corner of my eye I see lots of paper go flying past. I look down and there is my mates love letter from 1998 ripped to shreds on the floor.

I turn to my mate who ripped it and before I could say anything he said "why are u asking me to rip up bits of paper!!!"

LOL we didnt tell my mate who owned the letter until after she came down!
(Fran, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:09, Reply)

my first time
the first time (at the tender age of 22) I did any kind of happy pills was at a goa party in the middle of a swiss forest. After running around talking to all sorts of weird people in all the languages or bits of languages i've ever learnt, telling people the tragic story of my poor repressed refugee dad who found love with my mum and theyre still so in love even though they're old etc. etc. I invited a bunch of people back to mine (stopping off to bathe in a fountain and steal a shrub on the way) and showed them all my photographs. I woke up with about 500 photographs all over the floor, a bunch of strange men in a pile on the floor, a pile of wet clothes in the corner, a huge shrub in the kitchen, and a huge crush on the guy who gave me the pills who is the human version of greebo the cat. Its a miracle I'm not an addict, as it was quite possible the best night of my life ever.
(chesty, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 14:00, Reply)

Whore Shame
I got absolutely sand-blasted in London recently - champagne, coke and industrial strength weed - a good night was had by one and all and I was staying in a very plush hotel too (which I wasn't paying for), and it was as I weaved off towards this sanctuary in the wee small hours that I reflected with some regret that I had no female companionship.

Being completely twunted, I thought it a good idea to slam some whiskies in the hotel bar, lamenting all the while about how lonely and horny I was. I was blindsided by a stunning woman who offered to ease my woe for £100 to which I agreed most heartily (Thanks, cocaine...)

In the swank boudoire I was treated to a majestic topless blowjob, did a little more charlie and did the deed. My shame came from not the seedy hiring of a gorgeous hooker, the barman did that misinterpreting my stoned whinings, but i'd stowed my wallet etc in the safe and had forgotten the combination i'd only put in about 30 minutes before and this delightful lady wanted her money - I had to phone the desk and the night porter had to come up with a master code so I could pay off my 'companion' :-) - I got some hearty winks from the male staff in the morning and the receptionists looked at me like an utter loser :-D
(Jay Tea, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:53, Reply)

36!!!!
Last one people!

I was at Bagleys in Kings Cross and was having a great time, I went outside to smoke a joint and sat next to this guy who looked very very fucked.

He started trying to bite my arm and I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing "Im dying, Im dying" he replied.

I asked him what was wrong and he said he had taken 36 pills! "i didnt mean to take so many and now I am dying" where I was off my head myself I got very scared for him and asked him his name and tried to find his friends.

Now if anyone has ever been to Bagleys they will know its a very big club, I spent about 40 minutes asking everyone if anyone knew who it was, I kept also going outside to check he was ok and he was sitting down head in his hands saying "i cant believe I took 36, I cant believe it" By some kinda miracle I managed to find his mates and I was by this stage in a state of panic "come outside quick, your mate has taken 36 pills and he said he feels like he is dying" They all just looked at me for a second then burst out lauging and said "nah he has taken two he always does this shit, thats why we put him outside to calm the fuck down"

BASTARD!!!!
(Fran, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:50, Reply)

Not me but a mate
He used to deal pills out in New Zealand a few years ago. One day he started drinking at about noon, and carried on for a good 12 hours. He may have popped a few as well; I forget.

It gets to midnight, and he decides to drive (yes drive) to an out-of-town rave a few miles away. He pulls into to the venue's car park - cue a jam sandwich flashing its blue lights in said mate's rear-view mirror. It's obvious to the NZ rozzers that he's pissed, so they bung him in the back of the squad car and drive him down the local nick.

On the way to the police station, he remembers that his pockets are full to the brim with pills and tablets. Not wanting to be caught red-handed in the cop shop, he decides what he thinks is best in his drunken state and stuffs all of the pills down the back of the seat. In a police car.

He gets to the nick, they take his details, search him, and all the other usual formalities. After a couple of hours, they decide he's free to go, and being good-natured antipodeans, agree to take him back to the rave (minus his car keys of course).

So he jumps in the back of the car, and after a mile or so it suddenly hits him that he's in the same police car as before! So he sticks his hand down the back of the seat - lo and behold, his pills are down there. He stuffs them into his pocket, goes to the rave (albeit 3 hours late) and sells the lot.

Result!
(davefromkent, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:50, Reply)

rice
I regret the time I took so much speed I didn't realise I'd given myself food poisoning, until very quickly and suddenly whilst hanging out the back door of my friends car, in a field, at a rave, in the arse end of nowhere, I threw rice up out of my nose. Actually come to think of it I regret the mouldy pesto not the speed, I think the speed probably made the experience better.
(roseElee, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:45, Reply)

Mushrooms
Another one!

My flatmate and me went to Montpellier to visit her friends and also go to a rave over there.

We decided to take some mushrooms with us because her friends had never taken them before and they are quite hard to get hold of.

I had only taken them once before but had had a good experience on them and was looking forward to doing them again.

We got the plane over, her friends met her at the airport and although I didnt speak french and they spoke not so good english we was all having a good time. We ate our dinner then decided to get the mushrooms out.

It all started great, we was all laughing, giggling at silly things and then we all went into the living room. They put on a dvd which was a collection of video's from a producer I cant remember his name.

My mate was dancing around off her head and she started for some reason grabbing me and throwing me against the wall "tell them to turn it off, I dont like it, its freaking me out" they all laughed at this and just ignored her. She then went to the dining room and was like a women possesed she kept screaming this high pitched scream and throwing her arms about and just trying to get hold of anything and everything to throw about. At this stage I just kept laughing at her, I couldnt stop laughing and was holding my belly cos it hurt to laugh so much.

She then picked up this big leather poufee (used to rest ya feet on) and I stood in front of her trying to stop her from throwing it, she was still screaming and I was just laughing at her, in the end I stood aside cos I knew I wasnt gonna be able to stop her, she then threw with all her might this Poufee into the living room where this 4 poor french lads were sitting looking so scared. It bounced off the wall and landed infront of them and the look on their faces was just priceless.

My mate then went outside and was laying on the floor screaming "get (lets call him Bob) Bob, tell him I want him" I went back inside still laughing and went into the living room where they was just all sitting in silence cleary scared at my friends behaviour. "bob she wants to speak to you outside" he stood up grabbed me by the shoulders and shouted in broken english "YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP THAT CRAZY GIRL" I thought he said that me and my mate were both crazy and got it into my head that he wanted me and her to leave the house so I instantly burst into tears.

I dont think I have ever cried so much in my life, I just cried and cried. I was telling my friend I was going to get a hotel and that I couldnt stay at the house.

My friend just kept screaming, laughing saying "its ok fran they know me, they know what I am like" I just continued to cry until they put me in bed where I layed there sobbing then for some reason started laughing my head off!

The french people came in the room and said "dont worry she has gone to bed, come and join us" I then spent the rest of the night having a highly enjoyable time!

I never done mushrooms with my pyscho mate again!
(Fran, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:40, Reply)

Smoking Kills
I am very badly asthmatic. And I smoke. Bad, I know, but there we are.

After a particularly heavy e/speed session I was at a house party kicking back and enjoying a bit of weed - taking the edge off - and chatting with friends.

It was my go on t' spliffage but the bugger kept going out. I persisted in my own little world for about 10 minutes, wasting about half a lighter in the process, when my darling friend turned and asked me what was the matter with my face.

Bearing in mind the amount of stuff I had done I considered this a rather unnecessary question, and said as much, but it turned out I had smoked about three quarters of a kohl pencil and missed my mouth so many times I had drawn a moustache/beardy stubble type mess around my mouth. Like a child playing pirates.

Those were the days.......
(aretha, Fri 16 Dec 2005, 13:28, Reply)