» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

Ah the memories
Once, whilst poshibly shomewhat pished, me and a friend created the secret society DAD - Drunkards Against Depression. You see, we intended to spread love and happiness to the (numerous and widespread) depressives at the party we were currently gracing with our esteemed prescence. Unfortunately this selfless plot cumulated with us both lying in a hedge, surrounded by empty bottles, shouting at passers by to fetch us more drink. Which they did.

Yay!

Another time, different company, different drug. I had ingested a not inconsiderable quantity of some interesting mushrooms and had been enjoying the trippy and colourful effects, when some considerate person hands me a glass of water. Cue me becoming rather inappropriately emotionally attached to it, and proclaiming its wondrousness to all at great length and girth. Becoming annoyed at my inane rambings, and possibly jealous of the water, everyone hatched a plot to drink my new friend. Which they did.

Bastards!
(Tue 20th Dec 2005, 22:15, More)