» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

Just remembered another
seventies trippy thing.
A group of ne'er-do-wells in a 4th floor flat, all off our faces when my then-boyfriend decided he must have a bacon butty immediately if not sooner. He strides confidently across the room, opens a window and attempts to climb through it. We pulled him back by his belt, so the only damage was wedgie-induced, but it goes to prove one thing....
L.S.D did not make hippies believe they could fly.
It made them believe all kitchens were located in mid-air.
(Thu 22nd Dec 2005, 8:25, More)

» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

Way,way back
in the seventies when acid was good, I awoke after an evening of merriment in a room full of other sleeping hippies and deadbeats in a flat in Colwyn Bay.(North Wales) The televison had been left on, and a film was showing. As I became more alert (pah!) I realised that I had lost the power of human comprehension, and couldn't understand a word of what the actors were saying. It was an English film, there were no sub-titles, so I had obviously done permanent damage to my few remaining brain cells. Fighting down the panic in my befuddled mind, I did the sensible thing and went back to sleep.
When I woke again I remained under the blanket until I heard others moving around....and talking.
Praise be! My brain had cured itself and I could understand what was being said!
However, this weirdness had worried me considerably. I was even contemplating giving up hallucinogens..shock, horror.
A couple of weeks later, I was talking to the resident of aforementioned flat and confided my terrifying experience to him, and pondered if I would get flash-backs where it would happen again.
When he finally stopped chortling, he managed to explain that his t.v. was tuned to S4C, and I had been watching a film DUBBED IN WELSH.
Bastards.
First post....wish it was bigger.....
(Tue 20th Dec 2005, 10:17, More)