Many years ago
I decided it was time to have a go at mushrooms. I had never had any kind of halucinogen before and I was under the impression (quite from where I do not know) that it would be just like being drunk. Oh how very wrong I was. After scarfing down over 300 of the pesky little bleeders it wasn't long before I was lying under a bench on Baildon Moor having no concept of time. I had no memory of not being off my head, I thought this was the normal state and this was how it was going to be forever, consequently I came to the conclusion that I was actually dead and it wasn't much fun either. My mentalness peeked on a bus into Bradford when I swore blind that the bloke infront of me was the bus engine. It didn't stop me doing shrooms (and everything else we could get our hands on) all the rest of that year, my only regret being that I was once convinced that the wallpaper on my mates landing was made up of space invaders, me and a girl, who we shall call Cheryl Dibbin for that was her name, sat there laughing at the wall for a good few hours, when I came to I decided that such a twatty episode should never be mentioned again, until now obviously, but it was twenty years ago.
(bogus official shove it up your cunt, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 17:10, Reply)