behndy wrote:was about 8 packages of vacuum sealed weed. proooobably a lb each. hella stinky when we slit one open. i was like, "um. call the COPS.". we did. they just came and picked it up, kinda acted like we were stupid not to just keep it.
my little brother is LIVID. lol.
"what? if you found a winning lottery ticket you'd just be all, 'humper dider DOO. this isn't mine. guess i should BURN IT.'??!? ASSHOLE."
You did the right thing. You don't want to fuck around with that large of a quantity of drugs that isn't yours.
lol. i was persuaded from trying to move it all cheap in a one time deal by True Romance. MY LIFE IS RULED BY MOVIES I LOVE.
so... the layout of my work/living yarea is my house, a laundromat next door, and in the same mini parking lot my bidnessesses. my spot and the laundromat share the same address, so i THINK they put the laundromat's as a return addy since it's empty a lot. i'm not super worried about them coming up on me, but i do keep the shotty in the front room. unless i'm expecting someone i always have it at hand when answering the door.
hah. i sleep nekid. even if they're not sechs dreams i wake up hard if i'm having an interesting dream. one time at about 4 am i heard some firm rapping at my door. get up and go to the door with gun in hand and peen pointing the way. hear, "this is the police.". there's a glass section at the top of my door so i can see who's at my door. was two humans in cop uniforms. so i gently set the gun aside and told them to hold on while i grabbed my pants.
apparently the light we always leave on at my shop at night made a neighbor nervous and they called the cops, told them they were afraid someone was robbing the place or something. which was nice of them. i didn't really want to have to get dressed after i'd been asleep for about an hour and have to go show the cops that the place was empty. but good looking out neighbor guy.
i'm glad i don't have a Groggy Period when waking up. i'm pretty much asleep or fully cognizant. would hate to rack the shotty hella loud on some cops. could turn messsssssy.
oddly enough, i don't think they have a great sense of humor about shtuff like that.
Eric! wrote:YOU'RE like having two pedals in one
with your...momentary fuck switch and all..
this is the story of why i don't really like performing that much any more.
back in the early 80s i lived in Eugene, Oregon for about nine months. while i was there i rapidly got involved in a band project with some other crazed Deadheads...our bassist was an acid dealer, so once we started playing parties and stuff every event featured the Merry Pranksters/Acid Test style of punchbowl. since i was too unstable for psychedelics then, it was not unheard of for me to be the only person at the event, including the other band members, who wasn't tripping,
as you can imagine, this gave some of our performances an, erm, unusual quality. but that's only the set-up for the story.
one evening in the summer of 1982 we'd arranged to play at someone's house outside of the city limits, where the county sheriffs were too understaffed to hassle people with the aplomb exhibited by the Eugene constabulary. this was an old, broad-beamed house with a living room/dining room area big enough to hold what must have been 150 people or more, and given H_____ the bassist's (name redacted because, well, the internet) energetic product promotion the entire audience was setting the controls for the heart of the something-or-other by the start of our first set.
LSD generally takes about forty-five minutes to really take hold; coincidentally, this was about half the typical length of our opening sets. It was as i started the long solo after the bridge in "Althea," a ballad by the Grateful Dead, that i realized something was happening in the room. peering through my spectacles i saw a strange disturbance that seemed to be gathering in the air in the back of the room above the heads of the audience. it wash't a swirl of smoke or the result of anything physical; it was a roiling presence, a collected energy which hung in the very air. as we continued to play, i watched as this non-Thing grew, intensified, and began rolling and billowing towards the stage area like a wave. when the wave reached the stage and broke over us, everybody in the band dropped the beat simultaneously, we lost our place in the song, and stumbled through the rest of the solo to end the song without playing/singing the last verse.
it wasn't a hallucination on my part, as i was neither tripping nor psychotic at the time. it wasn't only my experience, as other members saw and felt the same things from our conversations post-set. and it's documented...i still have the cassette of the show, and you can hear us all get lost right at that point in the song.
the intensity of the experience rattled all of us, but me most of all. it so unsettled me that after the gig i was sitting out on the back steps smoking cigarettes with our drummer, J____, and said to him "now i understand why Jerry (Garcia) has to do junk." my years-long dream was to play psychedelic music in psychedelic settings, but the bizarre manifestations of drugs and dark cultish vibes that were prevalent among the neo-Deadhead subculture which was our milieu permanently put me off that mission and to some extent broke my heart. i've never played out with a band since i left that group in early 1983 and returned to the Bay Area, defeated. and i've tried as much as possible for someone who came up on San Francisco psychedelic music to get away from the GD sound in particular, though Jerry still has an aggravating tendency to turn up in my solos when i'm not looking.
i TOLD you guys i was weird. if you aren't careful, i'll tell you about the time i turned into a crow...years before i heard the Eno song on "Taking Tiger Mountain."
there's a place in the orchard where no one dare go the last one who went there turned into a crow
it was the Castaneda era...it's not like it was THAT unusual.
In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni
FIFTY YEARS OF SCARING THE CHILDREN 1970-2020--and i'm not done yet
keep goin kitty i wanna be the crow with you ive learned 2 things so far #1) god was the first person to die #2) "a ron paul" = a penis on a woman you know when you used to go in the music store the one that sold tapes and eventually cds and now hooker clothes for 10 yr old girls so you go into the tape store and you forget every album you wanted not only that you forget every band you like and you walk out with a bargain bin compilation or like the single from tim burtons batman i think that was a prince song electric chair but i love this thread so much and was so exited to hear about your lives and not feel like a tangentdouche for once that i cant recall anything thats happened in my life its the weirdest thing
my day job has me dealing with lots of environmental/regulatory issues...and part of it involves enforcing noise levels. i once had a neighbourhood noise complaint about a squawking pet bird...and the owner was deaf. she came into the office unnanounced one day after receiving a letter and seh got really frustrated not being able to understand what i was saying...and started raising her voice...normally i dont back down ...so we ended up in a yelling match...
this is a true story because lsd cant be this good so many years after 1970 this vegan hardcore kid was selling liquid acid somewhre around 1999 at the time all of my friends were heavy drinking and only really did drugs if i slowed down enough to hang out so i run into this kid and bought two sugarcubes i got one with 3 hits and one with a single ffor whoever i could convince to take it one of my good friends is surprisingly down i forgot which was which so we had to figure out how to split each one i put them on a big plate and crushed them to powder made two huge lines with half a straw sucked all the sugar into my mouth i gave him the plate he starts sucking his down at that moment his mom walks in shes from amsterdam and i think maybe did a little time for possession of coke at some point so she sees her son sucking a huge rail of powder into his mouth "what ze hell are you dzoing" "tzatz not how you.do that!" him:"oh no dont worry mom,its acid" "oh,you guys are funny" and she walks out so we end up in the woods in t shirts and it starts to snow but its not cold and come across this little 5gal bucket encamp you know with milwaukees best ice boxes and spray paint cans and shit theres this tree that looked all funky and i see this round thing hangin i go up to it and its like a weird medaliion with foreign writing on it i looked up and see some other stuff trinkets necklaces hangin all through this tree it was like a squat roundish tree but 15 across im tryin to examin the other hangin stuff and realize thers chicken bones hanging by thread hundreds of them 2-3 to a branch we got the fuck out of there ended up at a stewarts i hate stewarts its never an easy transaction there now im on acid with voodoo on my mind this isnt goin g to go well but i want icecream im looking through the cooler at soda this guy walks in kinda portly and bald on top pale as can be white button down shirt i say to my friend "look at this guy,hes an egg" now this is where the story gets weird and you can choose to believe or not to believe that this actually happened but it did acid or no acid it fuckin happened the guy walks toward us hes got a brown leather satchel opens up the cooler a few doors down starts takin stuff out and putting it on the floor puts a jewelers loupe to his eye the stewarts guy says "can i help you sir" from across the store were in between them buggin and i mean ready to explode cause at this point we know whats next "im from the department of (whatever)' i'm....here....to....inspect....the.....(no dontsayit)..........eggs" gaaaaaaaaaah NOOOO FUCKING WAYYYYYY
I HATE looking for music I like. I am so glad I am not the only person that forgets every band I enjoy, while in a music store.
Also as a child, my parents would let me go to the toy aisle in stores alone. For some reason as soon as I got to the toys I would instantly have to pee. The excitement of a potential great Star Wars toy find would lead me to just pace the aisle back and forth. I couldn't leave because my parents specifically told me to stay in the toy section, so there I was, every time, running from one end to the other trying to get passing glances of what star wars action figures they had in stock. Do you know how hard it is to look through racks of star wars toys when you are running back and forth in the aisle!? Same thing still happens to me when visiting a new music shop.
When I was in kindergarten, my mom gave me a piece of gum on the way to school, and when we arrived she told me to go ahead and spit it out the iwndow, since I couldn't take it inside. So I proceed to roll down the window and spit. However, the gum hits the edge of the window and bounces inside the car. For fear of being late and getting in trouble I decide to just look for the gum after school. A couple hours later it's story time. I begin to realize my chest is real itchy and sort of burning so I go to the little closet bathroom to find out what is going on. Inside the bathroom I realize the gum managed to fall down my shirt and take on a new texture, bonding my polo to my chest. The cinamon flavor started to irritate my skin and it was now itching profusely. I start to cup my hands and throw water on my chest. My teacher knocks on the door to see if I am alright (must have been in there 10mins or so) and when I open the door, she sees my dripping shirt and sends me down to the principals office to get this taken care of.
Enters my principal: she is a about 6'2, large, and a bit of a hunch back. A Real menacing woman who would end up being my principal k-6, 9-12. He office at the time was reminescent of a dragon's den. I had never been inside the depths at this point. I enter a darker room with decoration I wouldn't dare touch, even the chairs seems to be decor. I kid you know, she spins around in her office chair exactly how you picture in the movies and says: alright Tyler, take off your shirt. She then takes a bottle of PAM and sprays the gummed up surface and rubs the cinamon gum completely off.
I told this story in Senior assembly my senior year. However I ended it on the words: "So there I was getting a PAM job by Miss White" she was not thrilled by my mispeaking.
1. I was out the other day and I saw a man with a yarmulke made out of glued together beer coasters. That is all.
2. I had a dream two nights ago that I went to a theme park where the admission fee was all your digits so I got all my fingers and toes cut off. I then went down a slide into a tile underwater grotto and fought a mutant fish man who was trying to eat me with a mouth full of thousands of tiny needle teeth. I have plenty of whack dreams so they all run into each other a bit but this one was recent so I'm good with the details.
3. This one is what I would categorise as a "drug story". Usually I don't like telling them because they aren't very interesting without a little bit of experience for reference and imagination purposes. Anyway I will attempt to explain.
This was several years ago when myself and my friends all went to the same University (a fairly slack one) so we had plenty of free time for these sort of shenanigans. My parents were away for the weekend and I decided to have these guys over. There were four of use in all. It was mushroom season and that means because of Australian weather we only had a short period of time to get some. A little side story but every year when these things start growing everybody heads down south where it's heavily forested to pick these things. It turns into a huge game of cat and mouse between the police and various drug dealer and hippie types. The mushrooms usually end up fermented in honey inside a zip lock bag and put in the fridge 1. because psilocybin really doesn't like heat, 2. because they taste fairly disgusting and 3. it's an easy way of preserving them. You eat the mushrooms and pour the honey into tea and drink it quickly. Overall it's a fairly pleasant ritual.
Anyways we took the mushrooms and decided we wanted to paint, listen to Kronos Quartet and Terry Rileys "Cusp of Magic" (highly recommended btw) and that went on for about two hours. By then we had figured out that this particular batch of mushies weren't up to snuff so we smoked some weed. I then got the extremely bright idea that maybe we should throw some Ketamine into the mix. At this point I had never taken K but I was in a greedy drug mood and so as it happens was everyone else. Now this was hospital grade stuff in lozenge form intended for humans (they taste AWFUL, like eucalyptus and off choc-mint icecream) not the more potent animal tranq stuff but we still took a fair amount. It started to kick in and soon I was paralysed on the floor as my whole body started to stretch in a diagonal direction towards the ceiling and then even faster in the opposite direction into the floor. A friend meanwhile had decided to put on The Horrors of Malformed Men (totally what was needed) and we soon realised that the commentary was on and we were all so drug addled by that stage that we couldn't figure out how to turn it off. It was around that time that reality started to break. The drugs had combined in some completely awful fashion and exactly what I felt and saw is hard to explain but picture this: a room of (almost) grown men completely unable to move without great effort laying sprawled around a room, some of them having fallen of couches in weird positions. It's completely dark except for a tv screen with Ero guro shown on the screen and a seemingly unconnected voice droning over the top, the room is lighted in an overall murky green tinge. When we started to be able to move again we lay on top of each other and our bodies fused together into what we called at the time "logos". When then discovered that repetitive movement was extremely pleasant on K and started rolling up into balls and releasing, sort of moving around the room like weird snails.
Eventually it all wore off and we were all left very confused and extremely tired. I can safely say I have never been as tired in my entire life, I imagine it was somewhat like what happens to people after the adrenaline wears off after some sort of trauma. I didn't recover for at least a fortnight. Despite the weirdness I still had an "enjoyable" experience, even "bad trips" can be interesting sometimes.
If you like I have another story I could type up but it's another "drug story", could be a long one though. Anybody interested?
ugh. that sounds HORRIFIC. i never really dug on anything but mushrooms and acid, and came to the realization pretty early that "oh SHIT! this'll look fucking CRAZY WHEN I'M TRIPPING BALLS!" is pretty silly. 'cause. you know. EVERYthing looks really crazy when you're tripping balls. kinda the point. so i always put on fun stuff like Bjork or Ren and Stimpy...... bright colors GOOD. i'm a child.
um. one time we had a show that fell through and the guy that booked it that wanted to be a manager for bands but had NO fucking idea what he was doing decided it was a good idea to take the 4 of us, who ranged between 15 and 17, back to his house and let us just gorge on his cornucopia of drugs. it was a party so i ended up mixing speed, some poodle legs of blow, acid and mushrooms, a little bit of weed and drink.
i kept shifting spaces between completely unable to move and REALLY wanting some vagina around, to being unable to move anything but my arms and wacking away at my bass, and talking to the live in girlfriend speed freak of Wannabe Manager Dooder.
01) i learned about 82% of what little i know on bass that night.
02) grrL was fun to talk to but she always brought it back to her teeth. she'd say how she was almost a full vampire, look at my pointy teeth.
"i filed them down. i made them right. here. TOUCH THEM. THEY'RE SO POINTY. i could totally open someone up with these."
"you....... you filed them down? like..... with a FILE? didn't that hurt?"
"well. some. but then i filed through the nerve. soon as that died? no pain at all. I COULD TOTALLY OPEN UP SOMEONE WITH THESE DO YOU WANT TO BE A VAMPIRE I WOULD MAKE A GREAT SIRE. CAN I BE YOUR SIRE."
"um. thank you. but no. i'm going to...... scoot over here and play bass for a few hours more. only half of my fingers are bloody."
Eric! wrote:YOU'RE like having two pedals in one
with your...momentary fuck switch and all..
