Hillbilly Dan
Bluelighter
3g Potent Mushrooms - Experienced - "Wait, we can't stop here...THIS IS BAT COUNTRY!"
I didn’t start the day planning to trip. It was a rainy Wednesday, the last day before the start of our college fall break. My friend and fellow bluelighter Zerograv and I had been planning to dose during the break. We had been planning for a Saturday or Sunday trip, but the opportunity arose that rainy Wednesday afternoon, and we took it.
At about 8 we went to our friend Abraham’s house. Both him and his roommate Hank planned on tripping with us. There was a fairly large group at the house when we arrived. Everyone had dank weed and everyone was planning on getting utterly destroyed. After smoking for about two hours our dealer Spanglish and his roommate Johnny O showed up with the funky fungi. Zerograv, who is god’s own psychedelic connoisseur, said that these were the best shrooms that he had ever tripped on. I had dosed two grams of this same strain two weeks previous, and I had to agree with him. Abraham, Zerograv, and I went into the kitchen to eat. We each had three one gram bags. As we looked at our bags we noticed that each of us had gotten something bonus. I had a bag that was all black and sinister looking. Zerograv called it “The Evil Bag”. Zerograv himself had one bag that was made up completely of one gigantic beautiful cap. Abraham had one stalk that had florescent green growths coming off it. We were all ecstatic like kids who found the toy prize in their morning cereal bowl. Our preferred mode of ingestion for the evening was sprinkling the shrooms on pb and bread. After we ate our magical sandwiches we stepped out on the patio with the rest of the party to smoke some more.
While outside, I started talking to Hank about his career as a guitar tech for some famous band or another. He took me inside to his room to show me some pictures of the tours he’d been on. It had been about thirty minutes since I had dosed, and as I sat on Hanks floor my stoned body feeling began to be replaced by that familiar feeling of WEIRD. About ten minutes later Zerograv called me into the living room. As I walked in they were packing a bowl into the two footer. I asked Abraham and Zerograv how they were feeling. They both said they were starting to come up. As I smoked I shot up another notch. I was starting to really feel the body load. Abraham and Hank’s roommate Sampson had a machine that projected a star field on the ceiling, so we decided to turn off the lights and admire the stars. I put Mark Farina’s Mushroom Jazz Vol. 2 on the stereo, because after all what goes better with mushroom’s than mushroom jazz? We sat in the dark and tripped off the starts. The darkness was interrupted every once in a while when Spanglish or Johnny O would flick their lighters. I experienced an eerie jolt in the base of my spine every time I saw the brief flames. After about thirty minutes of the CD I was tripping hard. The lights on the stereo began jumping out at me and the music had become dark and hard to comprehend. I went to use the bathroom and heard more music coming from Hank’s room. It was Mungo Jerry’s “In The Summer Time” and it was intoxicating. I was attracted to the music like a moth to bright light. I called Zerograv and we made our way down the hall to Hank’s room. Hank was sitting on the other side of the room in front of his PC. A dude we called Skittleybooba, who was the rhythm guitar for Hank’s band, was lounged out on Hank’s bed with his lady friend for the evening. Hank asked us how we were feeling, crazy we said. He said he was tripping pretty hard too, and he had something that we might enjoy. He put on a band called Acid Age and I immediately started tripping ten times harder. Hank had a sound setup that would make Tupac and all his angels proud. The subs alone were loud enough to shake the dentures out of John McCain’s mouth. As I listened to the wicked ambience I began to feel weighed down by sound, as if the subs were increasing the very air pressure of the room. It was getting very hard to stand up. As I looked around in my daze Skittley’s lady friend beckoned me over. I got really paranoid. I thought she wanted to do something terrible like slap me or mace me, just to see the hideous reaction I would give in my fucked up state. When I got close she started waving her hand in front of my face and making ghost noises. Skittley started sniggering. I got kind of pissed, but the shrooms in my system told me not to give a fuck, so no fuck was given. The music started to get a little too heavy so I decided to take my trip elsewhere.
I left Zerograv, Hank, and the happy couple, and made my way back to the living room. To my shock everyone had left. The music had been turned off and the DVD menu for Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas flickered on the screen. The menu looked like a demented, satanic piece of calligraphy. Ralph Steadman dripped out the Fear and Lothing title on a piece of scroll while ambient music, that sounded exactly like the swirling cacophony I had left behind me in Hank’s room, played in the background. Add to this the visuals of three Gs of potent mushrooms and the whole scene looked very eerie. It felt like it had only been two minutes since I left for the bathroom and I was very perplexed that there was noone in the room. I started to freak out.
Where is everybody? How could the have all disappeared so quickly? Why does all this damn music sound the same? What if this is all just a dream. Am I Still in Hank’s room tripping nuts, or passed out? What if my whole damn life is nothing but a dream and if I wake from it I’ll die?
Knowing that this line of thinking would only lead to bad places I left the room to investigate where the rest of the party went. I found everyone on the back porch smoking again. I sat down the steps and calmed myself down. As I looked up I noticed that everyone around me was beginning to look a lot like elves. Everyone’s face looked pointed and rosy red. Their smiles stretched and melted into expressions only ever seen on the faces of happy children in a Norman Rockwell. The concrete on the floor looked like a puddle of grey goo flowing around the base of the stairs. Everyone was talking about previous trips and the different things they had seen. I began to trip off their stories and couldn’t quit smiling and laughing. It had been about two hours since I dosed and I was experiencing my first peak. After I had calmed down a bit I stumbled back inside.
I was amazed at how perfect this house was for tripping. Any stranger who walked in off the street would immediately know that drugs, aside from music, were the preferred pastime of the house mates. The north side of the house was taken up by the kitchen which opened up to the carport, patio, music room, and the “rowdy friends” room (more on that room later). The music room had once been another living room. It was now used for Hank’s band to practice in. Directly infront of the music room and facing the street, was the living room. The music room opened up onto a hall way that went back to the three bedrooms and one bathroom that made up the southern side of the house. Each room had it’s own different vibes and all were perfect for tripping in. It was like a homemade Disney Land for psychedelics. There were trippy lights and decorations in each room. The living room had Mexican fiesta Christmas lights around the ceiling, a blue and red lamp light, and of course the star machine. Several movie posters doted the wall and the room was filled with comfy overstuffed furniture. The bathroom had a new coat of dark-blue paint that looked like it was melting around me every time I took a piss. There also many inspirational posters on the wall behind the toilet including on epic piece of poetry entitled “Mmm mm! That’s some good poopin!” Then of course there was Hank’s room in the back where I found myself again.
The denture rattling subs were blasting Acid Age causing the very room to shake. Zerograv was laying on the floor, and Hank was sitting infront of his computer staring at Skittleybooba who was beginning to run the bases on his lady friend. When Hank noticed me he told me to lay down and look at the ceiling. I did so obligingly, and my peak went ever so higher as I stared at the popcorn ceiling. I was seeing very intense visuals. Hank had Christmas running around the entire ceiling. Their outlines would blur and melt every time the subs would kick. I begin to see the walls breathe and shutter. It began to feel like the room itself was alive and singing. I was intensely enjoying my trip, until I realized that Skittley had just passed the shortstop and was quickly sprinting toward third on the bed above me. Hank noticed too because I heard him start to drop gentle hints for them to stop. He even said at one point that they had a special room in the house “The Rowdy Friends Room” specifically for scoring the ever elusive home run. Skittley ignored Hank’s suggestions and continued to load the bases. I was beginning to get bad vibes of the frisky couple, and the room became very confounded and awkward. The lovely couple had never tripped before and were probably under the assumption that because we were tripping, we were completely unaware of their presence. Hank’s gentle hints started to get a little less gentle and I sensed trouble. Skittley and friend continued to ignore Hank’s protests and continued sliding towards home plate.
For those of you who have tripped before you probably understand how much of a dick move this was. For those of you who haven’t ever tripped, let me put this into perspective. Casually making it to third base your friends bed while he is tripping off three grams of powerful mushrooms not two feet away, and ignoring all his requests to go somewhere else, is the douchebag scale equivalent to showing up uninvited to a birthday party, eating all the cake, drinking all the beer, then taking a long alcohol inspired piss on a portrait of the host’s deceased mother, taking a huge dump on the host’s priceless stratocaster, punching out the host when he tells you that there isn’t any food left and that you should probably leave, and breaking out all the windows of the host’s brand-new Rolls-Royce on your way out. Needless to say Hank was not too happy.
After somewhere between ten minutes, and an hour and a half of trying to convince my body to stand up I finally managed to get on my feet. Walking had almost become a physical impossibility, so I just stood there. Hank had a small water feature on his dresser. I stared at it in fascination for maybe five of minutes before I finally touched it. As the water touched my fingertips, I could feel the cool liquid travel up my arms and down my spine. I entertained myself with the water for a few minutes, then finally willed myself to attempt to leave the room.
Since walking was now all but impossible, I was reduced to crawling out of the room on my hands and knees, like a newborn emerging from the womb. When my brain was finally able to send a message to my legs, I stood up. Zerograv emerged behind me and we both staggered into the living room. Everyone was ensconced in Fear and Loathing. I had never before seen this particular cinematic masterpiece, but I knew from the first frame that penetrated my corneas, that this was the perfect trip movie. I had come in at the scene where Raul Duke and Dr. Gonzo are tripping ether mescaline and acid in Bonzukos circus. As I watched their slow descent into drug addled madness, my trip and I began traveling with them. Before I got too deep however, we took another smoke break.
When we returned to the living room, Hank joined us in our little cinematic experience. He told us that he had finally physically separated Skittley and woman, and told them to leave his residence post haste. We all laughed as we each made our own creatively perverted comments on the now soiled condition of Hank’s bed sheets.
We rejoined our sick friends in 1970s Las Vegas and my trip resumed it’s slow descent into madness. As the movie progressed it got to be less like a movie and more like a real event happening infront of my eyes. The tv was no longer just a tv, but an extension to the living room that looked into an adjacent room where Raul Duke and Dr. Gonzo precipitated their hilarious misadventures. I began talking to them asking them questions like, “Why for the love of Jesus and all his devils, are you taking so many drugs?” To my shock they would sometimes respond saying things like “Shut up you rat bastard and watch the Goddamn movie!”, although that may have been Abraham, I’m not really sure. As I entered hour four and a half of my trip and about half way through the movie, I experienced my final peak. By this point in my head, I had become Raul Duke. It was me taking all those drugs, and ruining that suite with my crazy Samoan attorney in Vegas. Every time I would leave the room I would start to hear his voice in my head narrating my every action. When I looked in the mirror in the bathroom I would see myself wearing aviator glasses with a long cigarette in my mouth with a tar-guard at the end. I started to think I would never come down from my trip, and like the real Raul I would fall into constant fit of madness. By the end of the movie I was swearing to myself that I would never touch another drug again to avoid becoming like Raul and Gonzo.
By about four in the morning my trip had run out of gas, and I was left stranded on the side of the mental turnpike. I felt achy and uncomfortable. My body demanded sleep but my mind was far from being compliant. At four twenty the remaining party members smoked our customary bowl. We then headed to the Waffle House down the street for some pre breakfast, breakfast.
Surprisingly I woke up later feeling alert and refreshed. I had noticed some of the healing effects of these shrooms on my last trip, but this was so much more. I felt energized and ready to take on the Universe. Although I afterglowed for much of the day, my mind felt crisp and sharp, and the precursor to a cold cough that I had been experiencing for the better part of two weeks, was completely gone. It was gonna be a good day. :D
Despite the weirdness at the end this was one of my most enjoyable trips.
substancecode_mushrooms
explevel_experienced
I didn’t start the day planning to trip. It was a rainy Wednesday, the last day before the start of our college fall break. My friend and fellow bluelighter Zerograv and I had been planning to dose during the break. We had been planning for a Saturday or Sunday trip, but the opportunity arose that rainy Wednesday afternoon, and we took it.
At about 8 we went to our friend Abraham’s house. Both him and his roommate Hank planned on tripping with us. There was a fairly large group at the house when we arrived. Everyone had dank weed and everyone was planning on getting utterly destroyed. After smoking for about two hours our dealer Spanglish and his roommate Johnny O showed up with the funky fungi. Zerograv, who is god’s own psychedelic connoisseur, said that these were the best shrooms that he had ever tripped on. I had dosed two grams of this same strain two weeks previous, and I had to agree with him. Abraham, Zerograv, and I went into the kitchen to eat. We each had three one gram bags. As we looked at our bags we noticed that each of us had gotten something bonus. I had a bag that was all black and sinister looking. Zerograv called it “The Evil Bag”. Zerograv himself had one bag that was made up completely of one gigantic beautiful cap. Abraham had one stalk that had florescent green growths coming off it. We were all ecstatic like kids who found the toy prize in their morning cereal bowl. Our preferred mode of ingestion for the evening was sprinkling the shrooms on pb and bread. After we ate our magical sandwiches we stepped out on the patio with the rest of the party to smoke some more.
While outside, I started talking to Hank about his career as a guitar tech for some famous band or another. He took me inside to his room to show me some pictures of the tours he’d been on. It had been about thirty minutes since I had dosed, and as I sat on Hanks floor my stoned body feeling began to be replaced by that familiar feeling of WEIRD. About ten minutes later Zerograv called me into the living room. As I walked in they were packing a bowl into the two footer. I asked Abraham and Zerograv how they were feeling. They both said they were starting to come up. As I smoked I shot up another notch. I was starting to really feel the body load. Abraham and Hank’s roommate Sampson had a machine that projected a star field on the ceiling, so we decided to turn off the lights and admire the stars. I put Mark Farina’s Mushroom Jazz Vol. 2 on the stereo, because after all what goes better with mushroom’s than mushroom jazz? We sat in the dark and tripped off the starts. The darkness was interrupted every once in a while when Spanglish or Johnny O would flick their lighters. I experienced an eerie jolt in the base of my spine every time I saw the brief flames. After about thirty minutes of the CD I was tripping hard. The lights on the stereo began jumping out at me and the music had become dark and hard to comprehend. I went to use the bathroom and heard more music coming from Hank’s room. It was Mungo Jerry’s “In The Summer Time” and it was intoxicating. I was attracted to the music like a moth to bright light. I called Zerograv and we made our way down the hall to Hank’s room. Hank was sitting on the other side of the room in front of his PC. A dude we called Skittleybooba, who was the rhythm guitar for Hank’s band, was lounged out on Hank’s bed with his lady friend for the evening. Hank asked us how we were feeling, crazy we said. He said he was tripping pretty hard too, and he had something that we might enjoy. He put on a band called Acid Age and I immediately started tripping ten times harder. Hank had a sound setup that would make Tupac and all his angels proud. The subs alone were loud enough to shake the dentures out of John McCain’s mouth. As I listened to the wicked ambience I began to feel weighed down by sound, as if the subs were increasing the very air pressure of the room. It was getting very hard to stand up. As I looked around in my daze Skittley’s lady friend beckoned me over. I got really paranoid. I thought she wanted to do something terrible like slap me or mace me, just to see the hideous reaction I would give in my fucked up state. When I got close she started waving her hand in front of my face and making ghost noises. Skittley started sniggering. I got kind of pissed, but the shrooms in my system told me not to give a fuck, so no fuck was given. The music started to get a little too heavy so I decided to take my trip elsewhere.
I left Zerograv, Hank, and the happy couple, and made my way back to the living room. To my shock everyone had left. The music had been turned off and the DVD menu for Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas flickered on the screen. The menu looked like a demented, satanic piece of calligraphy. Ralph Steadman dripped out the Fear and Lothing title on a piece of scroll while ambient music, that sounded exactly like the swirling cacophony I had left behind me in Hank’s room, played in the background. Add to this the visuals of three Gs of potent mushrooms and the whole scene looked very eerie. It felt like it had only been two minutes since I left for the bathroom and I was very perplexed that there was noone in the room. I started to freak out.
Where is everybody? How could the have all disappeared so quickly? Why does all this damn music sound the same? What if this is all just a dream. Am I Still in Hank’s room tripping nuts, or passed out? What if my whole damn life is nothing but a dream and if I wake from it I’ll die?
Knowing that this line of thinking would only lead to bad places I left the room to investigate where the rest of the party went. I found everyone on the back porch smoking again. I sat down the steps and calmed myself down. As I looked up I noticed that everyone around me was beginning to look a lot like elves. Everyone’s face looked pointed and rosy red. Their smiles stretched and melted into expressions only ever seen on the faces of happy children in a Norman Rockwell. The concrete on the floor looked like a puddle of grey goo flowing around the base of the stairs. Everyone was talking about previous trips and the different things they had seen. I began to trip off their stories and couldn’t quit smiling and laughing. It had been about two hours since I dosed and I was experiencing my first peak. After I had calmed down a bit I stumbled back inside.
I was amazed at how perfect this house was for tripping. Any stranger who walked in off the street would immediately know that drugs, aside from music, were the preferred pastime of the house mates. The north side of the house was taken up by the kitchen which opened up to the carport, patio, music room, and the “rowdy friends” room (more on that room later). The music room had once been another living room. It was now used for Hank’s band to practice in. Directly infront of the music room and facing the street, was the living room. The music room opened up onto a hall way that went back to the three bedrooms and one bathroom that made up the southern side of the house. Each room had it’s own different vibes and all were perfect for tripping in. It was like a homemade Disney Land for psychedelics. There were trippy lights and decorations in each room. The living room had Mexican fiesta Christmas lights around the ceiling, a blue and red lamp light, and of course the star machine. Several movie posters doted the wall and the room was filled with comfy overstuffed furniture. The bathroom had a new coat of dark-blue paint that looked like it was melting around me every time I took a piss. There also many inspirational posters on the wall behind the toilet including on epic piece of poetry entitled “Mmm mm! That’s some good poopin!” Then of course there was Hank’s room in the back where I found myself again.
The denture rattling subs were blasting Acid Age causing the very room to shake. Zerograv was laying on the floor, and Hank was sitting infront of his computer staring at Skittleybooba who was beginning to run the bases on his lady friend. When Hank noticed me he told me to lay down and look at the ceiling. I did so obligingly, and my peak went ever so higher as I stared at the popcorn ceiling. I was seeing very intense visuals. Hank had Christmas running around the entire ceiling. Their outlines would blur and melt every time the subs would kick. I begin to see the walls breathe and shutter. It began to feel like the room itself was alive and singing. I was intensely enjoying my trip, until I realized that Skittley had just passed the shortstop and was quickly sprinting toward third on the bed above me. Hank noticed too because I heard him start to drop gentle hints for them to stop. He even said at one point that they had a special room in the house “The Rowdy Friends Room” specifically for scoring the ever elusive home run. Skittley ignored Hank’s suggestions and continued to load the bases. I was beginning to get bad vibes of the frisky couple, and the room became very confounded and awkward. The lovely couple had never tripped before and were probably under the assumption that because we were tripping, we were completely unaware of their presence. Hank’s gentle hints started to get a little less gentle and I sensed trouble. Skittley and friend continued to ignore Hank’s protests and continued sliding towards home plate.
For those of you who have tripped before you probably understand how much of a dick move this was. For those of you who haven’t ever tripped, let me put this into perspective. Casually making it to third base your friends bed while he is tripping off three grams of powerful mushrooms not two feet away, and ignoring all his requests to go somewhere else, is the douchebag scale equivalent to showing up uninvited to a birthday party, eating all the cake, drinking all the beer, then taking a long alcohol inspired piss on a portrait of the host’s deceased mother, taking a huge dump on the host’s priceless stratocaster, punching out the host when he tells you that there isn’t any food left and that you should probably leave, and breaking out all the windows of the host’s brand-new Rolls-Royce on your way out. Needless to say Hank was not too happy.
After somewhere between ten minutes, and an hour and a half of trying to convince my body to stand up I finally managed to get on my feet. Walking had almost become a physical impossibility, so I just stood there. Hank had a small water feature on his dresser. I stared at it in fascination for maybe five of minutes before I finally touched it. As the water touched my fingertips, I could feel the cool liquid travel up my arms and down my spine. I entertained myself with the water for a few minutes, then finally willed myself to attempt to leave the room.
Since walking was now all but impossible, I was reduced to crawling out of the room on my hands and knees, like a newborn emerging from the womb. When my brain was finally able to send a message to my legs, I stood up. Zerograv emerged behind me and we both staggered into the living room. Everyone was ensconced in Fear and Loathing. I had never before seen this particular cinematic masterpiece, but I knew from the first frame that penetrated my corneas, that this was the perfect trip movie. I had come in at the scene where Raul Duke and Dr. Gonzo are tripping ether mescaline and acid in Bonzukos circus. As I watched their slow descent into drug addled madness, my trip and I began traveling with them. Before I got too deep however, we took another smoke break.
When we returned to the living room, Hank joined us in our little cinematic experience. He told us that he had finally physically separated Skittley and woman, and told them to leave his residence post haste. We all laughed as we each made our own creatively perverted comments on the now soiled condition of Hank’s bed sheets.
We rejoined our sick friends in 1970s Las Vegas and my trip resumed it’s slow descent into madness. As the movie progressed it got to be less like a movie and more like a real event happening infront of my eyes. The tv was no longer just a tv, but an extension to the living room that looked into an adjacent room where Raul Duke and Dr. Gonzo precipitated their hilarious misadventures. I began talking to them asking them questions like, “Why for the love of Jesus and all his devils, are you taking so many drugs?” To my shock they would sometimes respond saying things like “Shut up you rat bastard and watch the Goddamn movie!”, although that may have been Abraham, I’m not really sure. As I entered hour four and a half of my trip and about half way through the movie, I experienced my final peak. By this point in my head, I had become Raul Duke. It was me taking all those drugs, and ruining that suite with my crazy Samoan attorney in Vegas. Every time I would leave the room I would start to hear his voice in my head narrating my every action. When I looked in the mirror in the bathroom I would see myself wearing aviator glasses with a long cigarette in my mouth with a tar-guard at the end. I started to think I would never come down from my trip, and like the real Raul I would fall into constant fit of madness. By the end of the movie I was swearing to myself that I would never touch another drug again to avoid becoming like Raul and Gonzo.
By about four in the morning my trip had run out of gas, and I was left stranded on the side of the mental turnpike. I felt achy and uncomfortable. My body demanded sleep but my mind was far from being compliant. At four twenty the remaining party members smoked our customary bowl. We then headed to the Waffle House down the street for some pre breakfast, breakfast.
Surprisingly I woke up later feeling alert and refreshed. I had noticed some of the healing effects of these shrooms on my last trip, but this was so much more. I felt energized and ready to take on the Universe. Although I afterglowed for much of the day, my mind felt crisp and sharp, and the precursor to a cold cough that I had been experiencing for the better part of two weeks, was completely gone. It was gonna be a good day. :D
Despite the weirdness at the end this was one of my most enjoyable trips.
substancecode_mushrooms
explevel_experienced
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