ilovefuzz.com

Yeah we don't really have "a thing" that we like to watch, mostly whatever seems interesting. We have done everything from some really bad goth porn (we actually didn't know what we were renting, the cover was just funny and it didn't stay on for long) to surrealist stuff to the smurfs. I totally get the colour thing as well. We used to just put something on and turn the TV against the wall and watch the colours change. The last time we tripped I bought these fizzy button candies and the packaging is a thin paper tube covering aluminum foil. We had these Christmas lights on and one of us stuck with paper tube to his finger and because the paper was colourful and transparent it looked like the colours were constantly changing like some sort of glowing neon worm. We must have all sat their for about half an hour just looking at these stupid tubes on our fingers. Was probably a fairly amusing scene.

As for the lady vampire ewwww. Bet she is regretting that shit.
Also, I REALLY can't do amphetamines. Last time I did speed I threw a chair against the wall and punched a concrete block until my hand was bloody. Even a speedy ecstasy pill will set me off.

ryan summit wrote:NOOOO FUCKING WAYYYYYY

f'show. i hate speed. soon as i found some guys that sold x and acid that had no speed in it they had a loyyyyyyyyal customer. i was about 16 and not that bright though. "drugs? sure! lemme just shove my hand in that bag full of shrooms. how many should i take? a handful? two? meh. i got big hands. LET'S DO THIS. LINE UP THAT COKE YO.".

urm. stuff off the top of my head -

was on the bus with a friend one time and there was a grrL behind us that looked like she was alllllllllll in the middle of a heroin nod. drooling on herself, she'd start to mumble something then stop, made eye contact then went totally out of focus. we were sober, but my friend's (at the time, we're not buds anymore) kinda a dick if he thinks it's funny. he started muttering kinda quiet than going DUCK really loud, all the while staring at her. you could see her get drawn into the droney rhythm. it was like it was soothing for her. after awhile every time he'd go from muttermuttermutter to DUCK she'd smile a little than giggle. got to where she was anticipating the DUCK gleefully. all good.

but when we got to our stop, as the back doors opened and right before we ran off the bus my "friend" screamed GOOOOOOOOSE and smacked her on the top of her head.

i was disappointed in him. and told him so. he thought it was hilarious so he didn't feel any remorse at all. i felt like a dick the rest of the day. we had made her SO HAPPY. until it turned to shit.

---------------

same friend, we were at the local mall waiting for the next $1 theater movie to start, tripping out of our MINDS on acid. in this semicircle sitting/waiting area, just talking stupid drug stuff and marveling at the patterns in the carpet. we thought we were being pretty quiet when we started telling each other how the old old OLD Chinese grandma lady sitting across from us looked kinda liked Yoda. but you know how you have that like break with your drug induced reality when you're all fucked up? for a second or two you can see what you look like to sober people?

we were all in this woman's face giggling and pointing yelling, "TEACH YOU I MUST. HMMMMMMMMMMM. AH-HEE-HEE-HEEHEE-HEE.".

so....... we left. went and sat in a dark theater and watched them clean.

-------

huh. same friend. he WAS my best friend when i was in high school and we were in a band.

one time we were waiting to play a show in SF, we're outside with me and him and the two other guys in the band. we were all pretty good friends. my grrLfriend at the time was there, 3 of my other friends that were grrLs, 1 or 2 other guys. all hanging out in a circle bullshitting. we'd stopped at a gas station on the way and grabbed those big ass soda plastic bottles in an assortment of flavors. my friend was going through a phase where he thought peeing outside was so edgy and the BEST THING EVER. so he, decently loudly, said, "oop. time to pee.", turned his back, and filled up his empty bottle. appropriately enough he had chosen Squirt as his beverage. half turned around he handed the bottle to my grrLfriend, asked her to hold it for a second, and turned away to zip up.

sheeeeeee....... started to drink it. everything turned into bullet time slow motion, i was slowly, vainly reaching towards her all, "[GRRL'S NAME HERE]*************** - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", i could see 1 or 2 of the grrLs pull slow motion disgust faces, lips crinkling up in horror. my grrL got a swallow or two then said, "oh. oh GOD." and spit out the rest of the moutful. ran to the bathroom. puked a bit. 2 of my grrLy friends that didn't ever like her felt hella bad for her. one was holding her hair and patting her, saying it's ok. the other was all, "um. do you want...... do you want some gum?".

she said she didn't notice the bottle was warm. she'd thought dood had turned around to pour some alcohol in to the Squirt.

poor grrL. we..... didn't talk about that much. the rest of my friends thought it was good times though.

-------------------------------------------------

in Berkeley yarea you get the same skuzzy ass people asking for change that that's just their life. yuck. i hate that shit. 'specially after working for 10 hours than going straight to the 4 hour class because i can only take night classes one or two days a week so it's lonnnnnnnnng hours. than some fuck is all, "hey. gimme. GIMME.".

i used to get a lot more outwardly frustrated with things and i went from, "yah i got change. because i WORKED FOR IT.", to, "NO. NO NO NO NO." when asked for change. i had one phrase that filled me with happiness and worked really well until...... until it didn't.

creepy old looking thing, skin might slide right off any minute - "give me some chang-"

me - "YOU WILL NEVER POSSESS THE NECROMICONNNNNNNN!!!"

her, voice suddenly an octave deeper and somehow doubled or tripled - "i WILL. I WILL POSSESS IT."

me - "gah ahgh RARHGHH. HERE. QUARTERS. GAHHHHHHH."

run away. never use that phrase again. have a sad.

Aw behndy, I'm in tears. Those were hilarious.

f it wasn't for Kai the Hatchet-Wielding Hitchhiker, that would be the best homeless person story EVER.

Might might have told this story somewhere o the board but it is actually one of my favourites.

It was my first year in Uni, lived alone, away from my parents who live basically on the other side of the continent. (In Portugal, I'm not talking that way.) Anyway you might imagine that I had lots of good times, very confusing ones and big doses of alcohol and weed. Uni was, well, a nuisance but I did attend it some times. I had to ride a train for roughly 40 minutes to get there. One time I was pretty fucked up because it was late and I was visiting a buddy in the town the university was in. Wanted to sleep over etc, whatever.
So I was sitting in the train, bummed that there was no place in the smokers' car (back in the days we had those!) and I had to sit with all these business people. I listened to Nirvana Unplugged on headphones and must've unwillingly sung along in my throat. Or somehow I have given off the impression of being totally stoned or whatever. Maybe I was a little, can't remember. Anyway the dude sitting across from me starts talking to me. I only see his mouth move and see the guy who was wearing a nice suit and had a leather suitcase on his lap. Looked really well off and respectable. Dark hair, in his early thirties I guess. I think he will probably complain about something and take my headphones off.

him: no dope no hope
me: what?
him: I know what you're up to.
me: really? I don't think so.
him: sure I do, I am Mephistopheles. you know what that means, right?
me: *gulp* yeah.
him: so?
me: you're making me the usual offer?
him: yes.
me: let me think.
him: but not for too long, I get out at the next station.

I could not come up with anything I would sell my soul for. But I still can't help believing he had lots of contracts signed in blood in that suitcase.

phantasmagorovich wrote: But I still can't help believing he had lots of contracts signed in blood in that suitcase.

You should watch that movie Highway 61.

Good flick, you'll like it.

phantasmagorovich wrote:Might might have told this story somewhere o the board but it is actually one of my favourites.

It was my first year in Uni, lived alone, away from my parents who live basically on the other side of the continent. (In Portugal, I'm not talking that way.) Anyway you might imagine that I had lots of good times, very confusing ones and big doses of alcohol and weed. Uni was, well, a nuisance but I did attend it some times. I had to ride a train for roughly 40 minutes to get there. One time I was pretty fucked up because it was late and I was visiting a buddy in the town the university was in. Wanted to sleep over etc, whatever.
So I was sitting in the train, bummed that there was no place in the smokers' car (back in the days we had those!) and I had to sit with all these business people. I listened to Nirvana Unplugged on headphones and must've unwillingly sung along in my throat. Or somehow I have given off the impression of being totally stoned or whatever. Maybe I was a little, can't remember. Anyway the dude sitting across from me starts talking to me. I only see his mouth move and see the guy who was wearing a nice suit and had a leather suitcase on his lap. Looked really well off and respectable. Dark hair, in his early thirties I guess. I think he will probably complain about something and take my headphones off.

him: no dope no hope
me: what?
him: I know what you're up to.
me: really? I don't think so.
him: sure I do, I am Mephistopheles. you know what that means, right?
me: *gulp* yeah.
him: so?
me: you're making me the usual offer?
him: yes.
me: let me think.
him: but not for too long, I get out at the next station.

I could not come up with anything I would sell my soul for. But I still can't help believing he had lots of contracts signed in blood in that suitcase.

dude. DUDE. You couldn't think of anything??? Crazy guitar playing abilities?????

phantasmagorovich wrote:him: I know what you're up to.
me: really? I don't think so.
him: sure I do, I am Mephistopheles. you know what that means, right?
me: *gulp* yeah.
him: so?
me: you're making me the usual offer?
him: yes.
me: let me think.
him: but not for too long, I get out at the next station.

I could not come up with anything I would sell my soul for. But I still can't help believing he had lots of contracts signed in blood in that suitcase.

AWESOME. You really should have went for it. YOLO.

Well, I was like, if this dude really exists, so does hell and damnation and god and his pasture. The next day I thought I should've put hin in a conundrum by saying that the only thing I'd sell my soul for was salvation. But yeah, that was too late.

Of course I thought of guitar playing abilities. This was before I started learning the instrument.

for people who've lived in California, YOLO is a county full of meth users and politicians.

dubkitty wrote:f it wasn't for Kai the Hatchet-Wielding Hitchhiker, that would be the best homeless person story EVER.

well. see. Kai is like....... the alter ego of a super hero and he forgot to be a badass and blend in that day. that's just a whooooooooooooole 'nother REALM.

You Only Burn Forever. YOBF isn't as catchy though.

I went to apply to a music store for a summer job, luckily the owner was actually there-first time I've ever seen him. When I asked he said:

"Nope, just the same old worthless crew."

I smiled and left.

behndy wrote:in Berkeley yarea you get the same skuzzy ass people asking for change that that's just their life. yuck. i hate that shit. 'specially after working for 10 hours than going straight to the 4 hour class because i can only take night classes one or two days a week so it's lonnnnnnnnng hours. than some fuck is all, "hey. gimme. GIMME.".

i used to get a lot more outwardly frustrated with things and i went from, "yah i got change. because i WORKED FOR IT.", to, "NO. NO NO NO NO." when asked for change. i had one phrase that filled me with happiness and worked really well until...... until it didn't.

...

run away. never use that phrase again. have a sad.

I've got a line for you.

My (then) girlfriend and I were in DC in March of 2001, on our first real adult vacation that didn't involve following a band around the country.

We were being shown around by a friend of our who lives up there. This guy works for the patent office, but when he gets off work, he pulls off his long sleeve shirt to reveal full arm sleeve tattoos. If I didn't know, at the time, that his preferred method of transport was a Vespa, I probably would have been intimidated by him.

In any event, it was late in the evening and we were walking to a metro station to head back to our hotel after having a nice dinner at some hidden gem restaurant he had found. It was just the three of us, and we were dressed rather nice.

At a certain point, we noticed we were being followed by an urban ourdoorsman ("homeless guy"). This guy followed us for several blocks, making every turn we made. When we stopped, he stopped. When we moved, he moved. He was closing in the gap, approaching us. We didn't know what he had in mind, so we high tailed it to the station.

He caught up with us as we reached the turnstile to enter the station. He says to my friend, who has his jacket off and his intimidating tattoos exposed, "Hey man, do you have any change...?"

My friend, well experienced with the urban outdoorsmen in DC, takes a deep breath, turns to him, looks him in the eye, and in the most sympathetic, hippy-like tone possible, he says...

"Brother, change comes from within."

The guy looks at us with a blank stare, not knowing what to say. We enter the station, leaving him behind, and didn't look back.

I have used that line countless times here in Savannah, where we have a HUGE homeless problem (the problem is huge, the homeless are regular sized, there's just a lot of them, and as they say in the South, they ain't from around here).

It always works. Nobody expects transcendental advice when begging to get their next fix.

Mike