I've mentioned before when living in Edinburgh
I briefly stayed in a hostel - grusome. The plan was that I would work and accumulate money for a rental deposit, but it was hard going. And the fact of living in a hostel - no privacy, no music or films, no cooking facilities and having to eat takeaways every night - depressed me into a state of abject misery. The hostel was like something out of Orwell, a large room with single beds against the wall, with cheap white plastic chairs at the head of the bed, as a pathetic kind of divider. Maybe ten people stayed there, about a dozen regulars (who I despised) and the rest a floating population.

My friends picked up on on my sorry state, and one kindly came through to visit me, bringing some MASSIVE drugs. We went out for a few jars then went to The Venue (very Irvine Welsh kind of place), where we necked the pills, danced like maniacs, babbled a lot of shit and generally behaved like goons who were completely out of their faces. Because that's what exactly what we were. Super cool!

A long shit-faced walk back to the hostel seemed to take forever, and I don't remember getting back in. The next thing I do remember is coming to, squatting down in front of one of the plastic chairs on the other side of the room, pissing and shitting myself. I must have mistaken on the white chairs for a toilet and made my way towards it, with my toilet-seeking guidance system suffering severe malfunctioning. The worse thing was, of course, that I was next to some poor bastard's bed - pretty damn near their pillow, in fact. I scuttled through to the bathroom, got toilet roll and cleaned up as best I could.

Just hope that poor bastard slept through it.

I haven't taken massive drugs since.
(McChinaman banned, Tue 29 Mar 2011, 9:58, Reply)