This thread is soooo fucking awesome...
I've got too many of these stories from back in the day, that actually recalling all of them makes me wonder how the fuck I am still alive and healthy with little to no signs of permanent damage! For starters my memory is totally shot for about a 6 month period when I was 18... but anyways... here go a couple:
I had just matched this MAD 2g blunt, this was before I had a monster tolerance too, and I was riding to the ATM to get out some money to get another half ounce, when I notice that this motherfucker truckdriver has parked his semi in the bike lane (there was a small nursery around the corner of my house and they got stock that way...), giving me like 1.5 body widths of space between me and the traffic... so me being blazed to the nutsatchel, listening to my discman, didn't hear ANOTHER semi coming up behind me in the nearby lane! Suddenly and without warning I had like a tunnel of about seriously 1.25 of my body widths between a parked semi and one doing 80... I swear that motherfucker was twacked out or something. Somehow I managed to stay in a straight line and not get sucked under the truck by the weird air currents, but as soon as the other truck went past the gust of wind blew my feet off the pedals... the left foot hit the side of the semi trailer, bounced off, it went four inches straight through my front spokes, I was doing 35km/h, ladies and gentlemen, time for a tarmac faceplant... the kurb was literally about a foot away from where my head landed. Got to pick up the lower half of my face from the ground and have it sewed back on (for which 10mg IV midazolam and 30mg IV morphine (both of which I had never used before) took away about 20% of the pain and trauma). This was two days after I turned 18, no alcohol for me!
Then there was the time I had a shitload of 15mg dexedrine spansules, but was getting pissed off at the time release mechanism, so I took a shitload of caps, crushed the beads, put the powder in about 70ml of dH2O, dissolved the shizzle and filtered... ended up with about 800mg of nigh-pure d-amphetamine crystal which I railed and railed and railed and railed and railed... I was up for about 2 weeks until I started to see little aboriginal kids climbing around in the mango tree outside of my room. Motherfuckers eating my motherfucking mangoes, I don't think so... so I rolled a big blunt and got a machete and walked outside, wearing the same bleachstained green khaki pants I had been wearing for a week, still wet from when I was lying in the pool earlier, the only thing I'm wearing apart from a bunch of occult symbols and love beads, holding a machete and ready to protect my beloved tropical fruitstuffs... but of course, I smoked like half the blunt in my ensuite toilet before walking outside, totally spun the fuck, and when I went outside I realized that what I had thought earlier was a bunch of aboriginal kids was actually the Indonesian military, finally, after all these years, invading Australia. Sweet. So being the patriot I am I promptly called the proper authorities to deal with said invasion, was arrested (I didn't even put my bong or fitty bag away, they were just lying on my desk, as I gave the police a tour of the invasion point - "I wonder how they got in through my backyard as opposed to the shoreline, or helicopters or something... you reckon there's an indian rope?" mwahahaha)! This actually saved my ass because they just took the bong and the fitty and me to the copshop, where I was convinced that they were going to rape me and shoot me in the interrogation room (hey, they all had guns man...)... anyways I ended up getting 'drug diversion' wherein a government funded drug counsellor lectured me, for 3 hours, on the dangerous properties of the cannoids (yes, she said cannoids) I was injecting into my veins... but for the next 2 days when I got outta the copshop, my vision was blurred and I was totally psychotic, so my mind filled in the gaps such that everyone over 10m away (in the blurry section) was aiming a sniper rifle at my head - not a shitty one either, one of those .50cal Browning bullpup 2km antiequipment motherfuckers.
I woke up in a ditch once. Wearing a pirate hat. My friend was wearing a plastic replica english bobby's hat. I have too many xanax stories.
This one time I decided to have a xanax and drink a cider... but of course I ended up blacking out and having all 50 of my 1mg xanax script. Imagine my horror, waking up 5 days later, saying "What the fuck?" and surveying my room, and realizing that I had done several things including:
-plugging at least 6 of my xanax and not washing my finger
-smoking 3 of them (fucked up a good pipe! hehe)
-drinking 8 more strongbows
-smoking at least 4 grams of pot
-taking dexedrine 'to balance things out'
Then there was the time Ben and I split a 5L cask of wine in 20 minutes... we woke up with no sense of smell the next day, and a big cup of yellow liquid and a wet patch in the middle of the floor. We assumed it was wine. Until we got our sense of smell, and partial memory, back. We had put the cup in the middle of my room after an argument about who could urinate more precisely... the sad part is this occured six feet away from a door in my room that led to outside, where we could have done this in a move civilized fashion.
I'm all responsible and shit now (mwahahaha!)... so the only times that really suck are when I bioassay drugs that my system hates or fuck up by taking (unbeknownst to me) shitty combos...
To be honest I thought I was the only one, dudes! <support group buzz>.. but seriously, I'm actually being honest about all of this.