At first I thought I didn't have any stories
but then I remembered the time I attended a party at my mate's dorm. Let's call him David. I was the unofficial non-stoned, sober person 'cause I'm boring, but I had a lot of fun anyhow just watching everyone make utter and complete asses of themselves. The highlight of the night was when David's dorm-mate pissed on his laptop. (And out the window, trying to hit people walking below. Luckily for them he was so shit-faced he couldn't hit anybody.)

Next morning everyone is slouching around with a massive hangover. David comes over to me whining about how his laptop failed to function today and how he has no idea why. I smirk. I never told him.
(TheWonderfulWombat It came to me in a dream., Fri 17 Sep 2010, 3:51, Reply)

In hospital a few years ago...
...with a rather nasty cyst on my ballbag - probably the result of too much wanking whilst picking my nose. A small operation, out within 48hrs, I was told. Thanks to the miracle of a good job at the time, I had health insurance and was in a private hospital. Checked in and had just got into bed when a nurse popped into the room and asked how I was. I told her it was a bit sore (it bloody was) and asked what she could do. "I can give you pethedine" she said. Now I thought pethedine was what they gave to pregnant women but have always been generally happy to accept free drugs on an experimental basis.

A very short while later I was floating on a cloud of pure contentment and, as it turned out, that was how the time there went. When I got bored, I told them I was in pain and asked for more pethedine. They were more than happy to oblige and, since the insurers were paying, weren't in a hurry to kick me out either. I was there for over a week and they would have kept me longer (didn't think I should be home on my own) had my g/f not insisted on driving me to my mother's for Christmas. (not sure why I agreed - I can't stand my mother).

For weeks afterwards, I had people telling me how they came to visit and how I was so off my tits that I didn't even know they were there. I have vague recollections of friends in my room, with no real detail. And, strangely, of walking to the local shops for a paper, whilst wearing a dressing gown and with an intravenous drip thing sticking out of my hand. Lovely floaty feeling, though.

So the moral is - if you're ever offered pethedine, take it. Especially if it comes with free cyst removal.
(zebideedoodah likes florence but prefers venice, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 2:11, 1 reply)

Nutmeg!
Friends of mine several years ago read that one can get high if one can tolerate eating enough nutmeg to induce a mild trip. The three of them dutifully went to the supermarket and bought several whole nutmegs and ground them up, which basically took all day. Then, out came the teaspoons and they began hoeing into it. Tasted about as bad as you'd imagine and for all their efforts they reported merely a mildly stoned sensation for the rest of the day.

And the next six days.

At the time I was annoyed at not being included, but in retrospect I feel it was for the best.
(ElGranto, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 2:02, 4 replies)

Drugs are fun, drug conversation isn't
I was a bit of a dabbler in my day (E a few times, acid a few more times, speed once, mushies, nothing major) and still regularly smoke weed to this day, but while I enjoy the act of taking drugs, talking about drugs bores the bollocks off me (with all due respect to QOTW; most of the stories here are entertaining enough and I'll no doubt share one or two myself). Maybe it's because it so often turns into a competition about who has the craziest story or has taken the most, maybe it's because most drug stories are very similar, maybe it's just because I get tired of stories that begin with "Yeah Bez and I were really high one time..."

It's weirdly ironic, I know, but maybe it's all of the above plus the fact that the people I talk to about drugs go on and on and ON about them until I can't stand it any more, especially acid. As Kinky Friedman once wrote, drugs make interesting people more boring and boring people more interesting.
(ElGranto, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 1:54, 3 replies)

Shrooms
The first time I took magic mushrooms I and some friends watched the first Harry Potter movie. It was the best film I had ever seen in my life. Ever.
(Wangle, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 1:37, 5 replies)

Tom Cruise
I have very few drug stories, generally preferring to get my kicks from booze rather than anything else. However we all had a little dabble at uni which generally involved a few splifs and watching The Clangers.

The one time I got properly off my face some friends and I decided that we were going to eat some. Being poor and lazy students we couldn't be bother to actually bake brownies or something so we just crumbled up some hashish into a yoghurt we found in the fridge. Classy, I know.

A short while later the three of us were watching Mission Impossible with a Christian chap from my halls who sort of invited himself in (in that way they do). We soon realised that Mission Impossible was actually the greatest comedy of all times. Not only that but Tom Cruise was some sort of comedy god. After the three of us spent most of the first part of the film rolling around in absolute stitches at people getting blown up and shot the Christian got a bit scared and left.

The story then fades out with my brain floating around uni, feeling disconnected from my body (I kept having to hold my head in case it got away) and later that evening I lay in bed convinced my heart was doing about a 1000bpm and was about to explode and wondering what my parents were going to say when they found out. Thankfully a friend came in and I made them repeatedly take my pulse until I calmed down.

My one and only drug anecdote!
(bigjonnydynamite, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 1:18, 3 replies)

Salvia
The guy on Youtube doing Driving on Salvia got me interested, as did the spiritual aspects which some people talk about. I got hold of some, got a bong, picked my weekend and did a cone, holding the smoke for about 20 seconds. About 30 seconds later the visuals started. When I moved my arm in front of my face it was like the strobe effect you see on 80s videos with trails of anything moving (or like mouse trails in Windows settings). Then it got really weird. I'd never had visuals when I'd taken acid and magic mushrooms, so it really freaked me out. What I could see, and also, from my perspective, reality, began to fold itself like corrugated tin. I became quite panicked, thinking I'd fucked up my brain for good and should call an ambulance or get the guy in the downstairs flat to do it for me so I stood up, realized walking would be a problem, sat down again, shoved the heels of my hands into my eyes and repeated to myself, "It will be over in a few minutes," trying to believe it. "Just relax. It will be okay."

It was okay. After just a few minutes normal reality resumed. It was fairly weak stuff as well, so I don't reckon I'd try any of the stronger stuff. This was over a year ago and I've still got some left and might one day try some again, knowing what it will be like. But I'll have some chillout music and a sober friend with me.
(Wangle, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 1:12, 2 replies)

OK, B3TA. I am an undercover police woman.
I won't tell anybody about your illegal crimes, but only if you hand over all your drugs right now. Yes, you, even with that spliff 'hidden' in your fag pack. And you girl, with those three pills in your bra.

Come on, or else it's down the station.

Thank you.

(works every fucking time.)
(Radio Vicky Anyone cool Brits live in Ibiza?, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 1:05, Reply)

Acid + Me = Heaven then Hell
I took acid at a beach party. It was awesome at the time, lying on the beach with rocks on my chest and arms, feeling the energy, man. Bawling my eyes out the next day as if everyone I love had been slaughtered with a rusty hacksaw was not so good, though.
(Wangle, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 0:57, Reply)

Hot and stoned in the Dam
My vegetarian brother lived in Amsterdam for a few years and the first time I went to visit it was a very hot June weekend. I wasn't used to not eating meat. We decided that I would borrow his flatmate's bike and we'd go riding around, seeing the sights and checking out the cafés.

Now, what my bro's flatmate neglected to tell us was that his bike had a slow puncture which he had to keep pumping up with the pump he carried in his bag - i.e. not with the bike. We realized this after enjoying a few types of café and a few beers. My bro wasn't sure where to find a bike repair shop so we wandered around for what felt like hours, and might well have actually been hours, in the blistering sun.

With no luck, we went for a smoke. Then we were on our way to find some food when my bro saw one of his mates down the road. "Greg!" he shouted. He introduced me, said, "Fancy a smoke?" to which Greg replied, "Well, I've just had one. Go on then."

I don't know when to stop when I smoke, and this stuff was much much stronger than the shit I used to get in Wales. I remember being perched on a bar stool kind cos the comfy sofas were ocupied, thinking, "I think I'll rest my eyes for a few seconds." I then felt like I was retreating rapidly backwards through a dark tunnel. I awoke with my head between my knees and my bro looking very worried.

The café guy gave me an orange juice and a lecture. He was cool. He also called me out of the toilet where I'd been for some time wondering why nothing was coming out of my extremely relaxed sphincta.

When I'd recovered and my bro asked what I wanted for food, I said, "Chicken!"
(Wangle, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 0:50, Reply)

The only times
I've taken anything remotely influential have been on prescription. I can report that Vicodin makes you very very sleepy, and Morphine doesn't seem to make you go all wobbly when it's an intramuscular injection.

Oh, and strong ibuprofen and similar (Toreadol, Tylenol #3) give a lot of people, myself included, rather nasty heartburn.

Bit of a rubbish story I suppose, but let's try to finish with an anecdote:

Went clubbing with housemate and a big group of friends, several of whom were partaking of some Ecstasy. Obviously it was a late night and we were a long way from home so had secured a hotel room for the night. I slept like a sleepy thing and was awoken to two of my companions cleaning the room like dervishes. I'm (un)reliably informed that the Ecstasy had been cut with some meth, leading to a serious desire for cleanliness.

Moral of the story: Drugs can make you tidy.

BEWAAAARE!
(Kendal, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 0:50, Reply)

it's never a good sign when you wake up screaming, holding a blood-stained knife. with AIDS on it.
man, i need to lay off the juju beads.
(quibble, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 0:00, Reply)

Acid
A friend of mine turns up at another friends house at 12 in the afternoon, wearing nothing but an oversize pair of tracksuit bottoms, covered in, and stinking of, shit.
He sheepishly enters my mates house along with a few others, and heads straight for the shower. Whilst he showers the story begins to emerge. He, along with the others, were at a party and had decided to drop a couple of tabs of acid. Upon being kicked out of the party and all a little worse for wear, they head for the local park where my friend begins to act decidedly strange. He begins by taking off all his clothes and running around naked. He then proceeds to stand and wank furiously, at one point looking straight into the eyes of a (black) friend, uttering the words 'BIG BLACK DICK' and wanking vigorously in his direction.
He then places himself in the middle of the playground roundabout and shrieks, 'MAISIE BOWEL MOVEMENT!'. Maisie Bowell was a girl at his school. He then proceeds to shit in a sock, and all over the roundabout.
After this has continued for some time, he disappears into the bushes and returns 3 hours later wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms several sizes too big, still sporting a huge erection and absolutely stinking of shite.
Apparently whilst tripping he thought his friends were his 'oppressors', and to get them to 'leave him alone' he would have to do something really strange to freak them out, hence the shitting and wanking everywhere.

I couldn't look him in the face again, although strangely I still wished I had been there..
(elless, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:54, 3 replies)

Dropped acid last Sunday. A mate i've known for about two months has tried almost everything under the sun except this. So, around 2pm we decide to cruise to mine out in the inner west, pickup MASSIVE DRUGS, and head back to the Cross. Where he lives.

Now I become slightly paranoid and quiet on acid. So after looking at dragons made of clouds for an hour, we decide to have a spliff. Being from Montreal, he is pretty relaxed about smoking da 'erb. Not me though

"Can't we smoke it over there in the middle of that soccer field?"
"...that looks even more suspicious"

After this little foray we got a shitload of candy [sour worms...oh god] and watch 3 movies back to back. I didn't go to work on the Monday.

1st time I took E - 18 at a rave. Another fellow tried it for his first time also. We were going on the rides all night, screaming out 'BETTER THAN SEX'. Over. And over again.

Each time I go to a trance night, I take 3-4 pre-rolled jays along. E has gone to shit over here, meow messed me up earlier this year for about a month, and the herbal alternatives to ex and mdma makes me feel ill. Smoking the jays every hour/hour and a half, followed by about 2 red bulls has me enjoying the night without the ill affects of a hectic comedown. Plus I sleep like a baby.
(lemonadegame, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:47, Reply)

They dont call it dope because it makes you smart
We found a live fish in the middle of the street, in suburbia, in the middle of the night - while tripping. It really did happen.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:39, Reply)

I am a man
and I have some ham
(Mr Big Stuff, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:19, 1 reply)

Lying back on the bed
looking up at the sky out the window, enjoying a spliff.

Until a hot rock drops out of it and right up my nose. Really, as far up as you could feasibly get. It felt like it was in my throat.

It hurt so very very much.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:11, 1 reply)

speed
up all night on speed, went to morrisons, bought a watermelon and four bottles of shampoo. forgot i had shaven my head the night before. the melon was nice though.
(imallamallama looking forward to llamageddon on, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:00, Reply)

I'm currently drugging it up large.
Because I can.

Thanks.
(Rubber Fish is waiting, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:54, Reply)

Words of Advice on Drugs
Not so many years ago, I did MODERATE drugs, as opposed to to the oft written massive drugs.

There were a few things I learnt along the way, and that are truly worth remembering. Some of which have been recanted in great and jovial detail already, but hey.

On hash: Eating it fucks you up really badly - and it'll take you by surprise with more force than George Michael in a gorilla suit, with a tube of udder mint, and a bunch of kingsize bananas.

Hot rock burns really hurt. I remember slouching in my student accomodation in a drug-addled state - almost at the point of nirvana - and then dropping a hot rock right on the tip of my bell-end through very thin trousers. This hurt. It hurts lots. I have seen grown man cry due to the pain.

If pushed for skins, the bibles placed in student halls with the strange thin (rizla-esque) paper will work if crafted correctly - and for added Kudos make sure to use the section referencing "the beast".

On Acid:

A truly great, and a truly fucking scary drug. The points of interest on this are as follows:

1) Don't take half a tab, wait 20 minutes and think *fuck its not working* and take another - repeat another 3 times, until the first one kicks in. In all my 6 times of dropping acid I've managed to successfully do this.

2) Make sure you don't have a manic, non-drug taking ex-boarding school friend who knocks on you, and your tripping chum's door wielding a knife and screaming in a high pitched voice "someone's gonna get a wedgy". It is not good for karma.

3) In the middle of winter, walking to a garage for cigarettes with your chum and then sitting in the park flicking cigarette ends up that "look like a minature battle field" as they smoulder in the snow covered grass is great. Not when both of you have gone out in shorts and t-shirts though.

4) When fucked on acid, opening traditional grolsch bottles may be a complete mystery to you. Embrace it. Love it. Watch your straight friends look at you as the epitome of evolution-in-reverse and fucktardery.

On speed

1) Speed + alcohol is trippy. Your legs don't work, and yet your brain works fast. Total carnage.

On "legal" drugs

Morphine is fucking ace. The reasons for getting it normally suck (broken leg). But those self-dispensing machines are great, especially with your earphones in and some Frank Zappa/Pink Floyd on.

Tramadol is a great second place. Got some of these when I fucked up my back - thinking "these little tablets will not stop the pain". I was giggling like a gnome and could feel no pain for about 4 hours afterwards.

And so ends the long sermon.

I'd apologise for length, but I've got a small penis and verily have to feel better about myself in some sparse way.
(spongtastic - Fisting midgets since 15.45, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:29, 6 replies)

Ecstasy = fanny ache. Alternative needed, please!
It started in Ibiza a few years ago. Must be the crystals in the MDMA fucking up my kidneys. Since then, I have discovered that ecstasy gives me crippling, cry baby bunting, debilitating, intensely painful CYSTITIS for many, many hours.

I can only abate it by drinking gallons of salty cystitis sachets, which are basically cranberry brine. And we all know what happens when you drink salt water, don't we? Major pukesville. So when ever I take a pill, I get locked in a cystitis/vomiting cycle that excludes me from the party.

Also, pills tend to make me blue for weeks nowadays and for some reason, they make me hate my mum. Knocking them on the head means we argue far less so at least SHE'S feeling the benefit.


I stopped taking them. Actually, that's bollocks, I will continue to neck them, and I WILL NEVER LEARN. Even if Mr Bronson wrote it on a blackboard and yelled it in my face. FUCKING gutted when they made all that meow illegal as that had become my replacement.

Off to live in Ibiza for the winter, can anyone recommend an alternative?

Length - about 6 hours of agony on the toilet unable to release a single drop, gripping the walls and groaning in agony. But still feeling kinda niiiiiice....
(Radio Vicky Anyone cool Brits live in Ibiza?, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:27, 16 replies)

Sunday afternoon tea.
A long time ago in a very prestigious University I met a girl. Its funny how things often start that way. Now; I'm a scientist and have never been a media/arts person, so I'm going to apologise for the Engrish displayed here.

This girl (she eventually ended up with the nickname "Melons") shared a room with another girl at an all-female college. I got to know both of them very well. Eventually I split with Melons; possibly as a result of the said nickname but it was all in the 80s and I don't care now.

I remained friends with her friend Jan (yup thats a name change). I used to visit Jan every Sunday afternoon for a "cup of tea" and indeed thats how it was every Sunday for quite a while. We drank tea and did the student thing of "putting the world to rights". I never realised quite why I always seemed so mellow after these visits and in desperate need of a good sleep. Eventually I worked it out that the "tea" was enhanced. Nothing ever happened between us as far as I can remember but as I have mentioned I may not have been able to remember much at all.

The very last time this occurred was a little more scary. I turned up and we got brewing up and Jan then announced that she had decided to eat the rest of her stash just before I arrived. She giggled a bit and I remember being a bit shocked but we went ahead with our "tea party". I wasn't quite ready for the full on nursing of a girl with cannabis narcosis. This included some rather vile visits to the toilet and some restraining. As I was still under the influence myself, I did not think to involve any medical professionals until much later in the evening.

This was in the days before mobile phones and males were not generally allowed in students rooms after a certain hour. The duty porter was not impressed and was more concerned to make sure we were both punished for breaking college rules (hers not mine). I did manage to convince the duty porter to contact the hospital and an ambulance was dispatched. We both spent the rest of the night in Addenbrookes, as the medical staff judged me to be the next best thing to family (Fuck knows why, and remember, I was stoned as well). This was not the most impressive night I had ever spent with a girl and I have not been near dope since.

Bugger it, its a bit crap and it reads worse, but I've typed for so long (with one finger), that I'm going to post it.

Length - my little finger is about 10cm.
(gearanach #wankwankwank, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:24, 2 replies)

Not my story
The story of a very funny lady on the internet who writes the blog hyperboleandahalf. Illustrated retelling of heavy sedation after surgery as a child: hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/09/party.html
(Mr._F is not actually a man- this username is a lie!, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:18, 1 reply)

At a party once
after some beers, me and a girl drank most of a jar of tixylix.
Then we made out. True story.

Moral is, always mix drink and drugs.
(shanterbabs, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:17, Reply)

Did you know
Senokot isn't a painkiller?

I didn't.
Two hours i was on the toilet for.
TWO HOURS!!
I lost 13 stone and a kidney.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:17, Reply)

I drink while using the Internet
The mass of crap bought in a drunken haze and now cluttering up my house is testament to this.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:33, 4 replies)

I'm currently under the influence
of alcohol. But that's another (few) stories. All I want is a Subway, and for someone to explain the origins of:
I) The Honda Accord story
II) The Hulk Hogan/I made this I think it should win the compo thing

As a casual b3taholic can't be alone in the want of an explanation, click "I like this" if you want to know more. Or provide a rational explanation in the comments.
( krang, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:33, 8 replies)

See, the trouble is,
I can never remember enough of these kind of stories simply because of the kind of things these kind of stories involve.

The moral of the story?

When you find yourself in the loo crushing up a lil round fellah between a couple of spoons to get down you because the first lil round fellah doesn't seem to be doing anything, and you notice your legs start that signature shaking, tip the powder in to a rizla, put the rizla in a pocket, and walk away.
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:26, Reply)

new year's eve
i discovered something not good; lots of vodka in the pub and a couple of joints when you get home will cause you to feel the need to strip naked for a piss, then fall asleep on the toilet, forget you're naked and open the front door to your brother in all your nuddy glory
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:12, 6 replies)

Traffic Light
On those occasions when I smoked pot, there was a fierce internal dialogue going on in my head; like a hectoring mother: "be sure to tie your shoes; don't forget to lock the door; keep smiling; remember, you don't have your full faculties," etc.

Driving stoned, and approaching an intersection, the voice said "be sure you stop for the red traffic light; be absolutely sure you stop; it's against the law to drive through red lights!"

Dutifully, I stopped: mid-block; fifty meters short of the traffic light.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:06, Reply)