Loved Up
Isn't ecstasy supposed to be the sort of drug that makes you euphoric and love everyone?

Si was a plant geneticist with whom I shared a flat in 1998/9. His main interests in life were belching, wearing shorts, and going out to get off his chops at the weekend. And ecstasy had an unexpected effect on him: he got aggressive. More aggressive than he was in sober hours.

Early one Saturday morning - or late on Friday, depending on your perspective - Si stumbled into the kitchen and living area where the five of us who lived in the flat used to congregate. His small eyes fixed on Paul.
"YOU LOOK AS THOUGH YOU THINK I'VE GOT A TURNIP ON MY HEAD. HAVE I GOT A TURNIP ON MY HEAD?" he bellowed.

Paul looked scared. Si was about seven times his size.
"Er... no..." he offered, timidly.
"Good," said Si. "'Cos if you'd said I had, I'd've fucking KILLED you!"

And with that, he wandered off to bed. Paul, meanwhile, hyperventilated in a corner.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 14:52, 3 replies)

.
hahaha
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 15:12, closed)

This sounds like an extended "home clubber" cartoon -
- that one in "guide" supplement of the Saturday Grauniad.
(The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 15:56, closed)

Winnahhhh!
*clicks*
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 16:13, closed)