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My stomach was packed with beer and my bladder yearning to empty itself, and so I stumbled to the bathroom. I looked down at the toilet. It was twisting, moving and the shadows below it seemed to rapidly re-invent themselves. After enjoying the scenery of the toilet I looked at the mirror, and quickly looked away. This was not a time for self analysis.

I heard something slam against the coffee table in the next room, followed by Vince's insane laughter. I smiled to myself, realizing he was just as fucked up as I was. I finished up at the toilet and walked back to the living room, and sure enough the bastard was laughing at a table.

You'll hear some people try to describe to you the feeling of an acid trip or the high points of their mushroom high, but no one can accurately explain the effects of a potent drug cocktail. Even if you mix the same drugs twice you won't get the same trip, and so I was curious to find out what I'd feel when I ingested all of six intoxicants.

It was only about an hour into the trip when Vince started joking with the table, I knew things were off to a good start. We'd started by combining our connections and supplies to give ourselves the most fucked up afternoon we'd had in a while. It was the weekend for fuck's sake, we needed to relax. We ended up with better than usual--a couple half-racks of Rainier Beer for each of us, an eighth of weed, one gram of pure cocaine, an eighth of cubensis mushrooms, four hits of LSD, and a pill of ecstasy that Vince had found in his shoe. We split it all down the middle and took it one after the other, except for the beer and pot which we planned to consistantly consume over the duration of the afternoon.

Mixing this many drugs is like putting a bunch of crackheads in a cage and throwing a rock in the middle. They keep on fighting until one of them has control. I usually try to let the beer be victorious, I've always been more comfortable with it. But when it's stacked up against the likes of cubensis and LSD, the bastard never really has a chance. In this fight I'd have to say the mushrooms took the driver's seat, everything else was still in the back yelling at it but they couldn't really take the car anywhere.

I sat back down on the couch and turned on the TV. The faces were moving, morphing, and almost melting on the screen. I was enchanted by this box of lights and couldn't take my eyes off of it. After what seemed like an eternity Vince grabbed the remote from me and turned the thing off, reminding me not to be hypnotized by the box.

So much drugs can make a man hungry. I was starving and Vince was bored so we walked a few blocks down to the grocery store. The parking lot was nearly empty, and with the winter sun setting early darkness blanketed the streets. I saw an old Cadalliac in the corner and a man was inside. I didn't think much of it when our eyes briefly met, and I went on inside to get my food. After taking a bit too long to decide on a sandwich I walked back out and he was still there, staring at me. Except now I realized it wasn't so much a stare as it was an angry scowl of determined violence. Why did this man hate me? Why is he out to get me? Thoughts buzzed through my head like a bee caught in a beer bottle and I started to walk faster away.

"Did you see that crazy dude staring at us?" I asked Vince. "What?" he replied. Every person who gets fucked up on a regular basis gets used to repeating themselves, and so I did. He said he didn't notice and so I figured I imagined it all, the drugs could explain it.

On the way back to my place lives Racist Rob, a good friend from my school days who got his name by being an open racist. I told him what we were on, to which he smiled and said "See man? You're feeling something original. Niggers don't get this shit. Niggers don't have acid, man!" He can be funny sometimes but it usually just gets old. After calling Vince a "fucking Japanigger" despite the fact that he is neither Japanese nor black, we realized Rob was too drunk even for us and decided to take off.

One of the funniest things about taking drugs is when you run into sober friends while on drugs. Walking back home we ran into Trista and Karrie, two girls we'd known since junior high and two girls who were definately beaten with the ugly stick. We'd always been friendly to them, though, and so when the small talk got to be too much Vince stated simply "We are on acid." After that, both of us had the same urge to flee. Not because of what he said but because being in social situations while really fucked up, especially on hallucinagenics, is stressful. And if there is one thing you want to avoid while on something like mushrooms it is stress.

We returned to my home and with boredom settling in again, I picked up my shotgun. My mother never told me not to play with guns but actors in TV commercials did, and if there's one thing I hate it's actors telling me what to do. I cocked it a few times, pointed it straight at Vince's face and called him a motherfucker before he picked up my .22 rifle and pointed it right back at me. A standoff. After a few obscenities yelled we slowly put down the guns and returned to our normal state of conversation. Like crackheads in a cage I tell you.


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The following comments are for "Just A Sip for Nigel"
by flymos





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