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Read this it's hilarious. I promise. If you read the whole thing and do not laugh once I will give you 5 shrooms.
ARE THIRTY PEOPLE MARAUDING AROUND BOURNEMOUTH HIGH ON 2C-B?
This morning, after several unsuccessful calls to our fashion department, and one to our accounting department, I got a call from some very, very high people who were stood outside the Job Centre in Bournemouth, claiming that they were there because I had commisioned them to write an article about homelessness. After an initial, confusing, five-minute conversation in which they assured me that I had asked them to write an article, and wanted to know the whereabouts of the photographer I had organised for them (whose name, they told me, was Lazarus), I called them back with my dictaphone running.
To clarify, neither I, nor anyone else who works for VICE, commissioned these people to do an article on homelessness. But I'm hoping that they send the photos and text to me tonight, because I really wanna know what they were talking about. I'll post it on VICE.com tomorrow if they do, and if you're in the area, maybe head down and verify that there is actually a gang of 30 homeless people roaming through the town centre high on 2C-B? Thanks!
VICE: Hi, is this the person that called me a minute ago? Mystery caller: Yes. This is [name withheld] calling on behalf of Adam.
So, what are you doing? We're waiting for our photographer. He should be here.
Who's your photographer? [Unintelligible. Sounds like "La Serthaph".]
What? La Serthaph!
Can you spell that for me, please? I can't tell what you're saying. I don't know, I've just been handed it on a piece of paper.
If it's on a piece of paper, surely you can spell it? Wah... I don't... I don't know what I'm going to do [long pause] L... A... Z... A... R... U... S.
Oh, OK, "Lazarus". Well at least that totally makes sense. Will you talk me through what you're doing? Because I'm still not entirely sure, but I feel like you think I'm involved in it in some way. We're with some tramps in Bournemouth. Basically, a couple of days ago, we got sent here to... Two days? Or maybe three days ago? I don't remember. We spent a night sleeping in the bank. They leave HSBC open for the tramps at night. And we took all of this 2C-B, and we gave it to all of these homeless guys and they kinda went mental, but whatever, it was fine. So that was last night, and now we've just spent two or three hours looking at a Carling advert. Or maybe it wasn't Carling. A beer advert, or something.
When did you take the 2C-B? I don't know. Some dude gave it to us.
How old are you guys? Twenty and 21.
I'm still confused. Somebody from VICE asked you to take 2C-B and write about being homeless in Bournemouth? Well, the 2C-B was an added extra, we were just asked to write about homelessness.
By who? We don't really remember dude, it's been like, three days and our minds are dead.
Are you sure you were actually asked and you're not just really, really high? Yeah, we're high.
But you think I told you to do this? It was just passed on to us, by some dude.
Who was the dude? We don't know. But anyway, it's a fucking epic story. It's awesome. You want it written up?
Do you have pictures? We've got pictures. We've got loads of pictures. Well, actually, we had loads. But our photographer is gone. He was here a minute ago, he's gone now but he's got loads of pictures.
Are you sure he exists? Yeah. His first name's H. But I can't tell you any more 'cos he doesn't wanna be... you understand.
I still don't know what this has to do with VICE... What made you get in touch with me? We thought it would be awesome.
What're you doing now? We're completely sober.
You should go home. No, we're going to stay out. This is fucking hilarious. We're literally searching for the place that does free refills. We're taking all the homeless people there, it's gonna be fucking hilarious. Just tonnes of homeless people getting free refills, haha.
Free refills? Of what? Coke, or like, whatever you want. But we only have one cup between 30 of us. They're all lined up here. Thirty homeless guys.
OK. Well, when you're sober later, do you want to call me or email me or something? Write it up, and we'll run it. Really? Yes, thank you.
THE DAY WE TOOK CHARGE OF AN ARMY OF HOMELESS GUYS HIGH ON 2C-B
You may remember that, a little while back, some very, very high people called VICE, convinced that we had asked them to write a blog about taking drugs with homeless people in Bournemouth (we didn't). I asked them to write a post about their adventures, and yesterday they finally sent it to me.
There's no pictures of what happened as, unfortunately, the "photographer" they "hired" turned out to not actually exist (I fucking hate when that happens), so I've created some digital reconstructions of what I think they might have seen. (BTW, I've never been to Bournemouth or tried 2C-B and have no idea how to use Photoshop.) Enjoy, alongside their unedited account of events.
After a long night of birthday celebrations and being the last two men standing, we decided to go on a voyage of discovery into the seedy homeless underbelly of Bournemouth, convinced by a taunt received from a homeless man the previous night, outside HSBC, claiming we “wouldn’t survive one day being homeless”. We took up the challenge, encouraged by a cocktail of ketamine, MDMA and a few 2C-Bs, of which I had received a substantial amount as a birthday present. Before the pills hit us, we hurried to catch the early morning shop openings to get ourselves some cans of extra-strength lager.
At this point, we realised, not being from Bournemouth, we had no idea where to start, so after a moment of deliberation we decided – through our collective personal experience – to try the Job Centre. After asking a number of commuting businessmen for directions, we found the place. After an unsurprisingly short amount of time, we came into contact with an ex-homeless man who had arrived to sign on. In an attempt to clarify what we were doing – probably to ourselves as much as to our new friend – we explained to him that we were writing an article on homelessness and he was more than happy to help us on our quest. The conversation led to us getting into his car, with his two-year-old child sat next to us, while he smoked hash at the wheel. In retrospect, getting into a car with him could have turned out to be a very foolish idea, but it was apparent that we were in no state of mind to make appropriate decisions.
Nevertheless, we were given a full tour of Bournemouth’s homeless society’s "hangouts", and for the next half an hour we were shown the secret area of the park in which the homeless congregate during the day, and the luxurious air vents behind Pizza Express that provide warmth for them to sleep on at night. Although it should also be mentioned that a large section of the tour was dedicated to an exhaustive showcase of the bins in which the best food can be found in Bournemouth.
The journey began where the tour ended – in the park. Here we introduced ourselves to the community, and although they were probably not as happy to meet us as we thought at the time, offering them a couple of 9 percent beers to share between eight of them seemed to be enough for them to put up with us. Exactly what we, or anyone else, were thinking is unclear, because at this point our previously innate surroundings had started to converge and dissolve. So we did the obvious thing, and took another 2C-B.
Unfortunately, we did this rather blatantly, in front of their entire community. And, as everybody knows, to flash anything consumable in the presence of a homeless gang is to waive certain rights over it. Not out of naivety, but out of stupidity we had forgotten this rule and suddenly found ourselves surrounded by tramps demanding drugs from us. To pacify what we feared may become a mob of angry homeless men, clamouring for unknown pills, we gave in to their requests and began handing out drugs as though we were workers in some kind of fucked-up soup kitchen.
Despite essentially being mugged by tramps, we were both in a hysterically good mood and felt ready for the day ahead. Unfortunately, one of the homeless men wasn’t quite as happy once he started tripping and began anxiously asking exactly what drug he had taken. To make matters worse, our conspicuous group of buzzing homeless had caught the attention of other tramps in the vicinity, who decided to join us, and whether out of envy of their peers (or perhaps improbably, actual disapproval at our state in a shamefully early hour of the morning) they didn’t seem too impressed with any of us.
It became apparent that their disapproval was down to their acute sobriety, so to reduce tensions within the group, we did the only thing we could and gave out our last two emergency 2C-Bs. Although this had depleted our stock, and actually caused more animosity between the handful of fresh tramps, we had now developed some kind of reputation as "the guys that give out free drugs", and had become Pied Piper-like figures to the homeless. We attempted to take a break from it all to get a few more beers, but instead we were followed through town by a long trail of hallucinating homeless, hoping for more free handouts.
With nothing left to give, we wandered aimlessly around Bournemouth town centre, receiving confused looks from passers-by before stopping back at the Jobcentre Plus, perhaps to get our bearings or more likely; to pick up more homeless. We persuaded ourselves that absolutely everyone needed to hear our story and in what we maintain as a moment of enlightenment, we called VICE, getting the number for their London office from Google. We then spent (what phone logs later confirmed to us as) an hour navigating through their departments and telephone system, while frantically spouting nonsense to whoever would listen. Somehow we managed to get through to a writer and we explained to him the morning’s events, although we were somewhat less coherent than we thought at the time and our reality had adopted fantastic new elements; we believed that we were actually writing an article for the magazine titled "How Not to Be Homeless in Bournemouth" and that our photographer, who shared a name with our friend, had wandered off and got lost.
By this point we had given up on beer and were in need of sugar. Not wanting to disappoint our literal "followers", we ventured out again in search of a Subway, as part of an idiotic experiment to find out for exactly how long a large group of homeless men and two kids would be permitted to sit in Subway sharing one refillable drink before being removed from the premises. We were sadly rejected from even entering Subway – meaning no refills for anyone. It was this event that marked our fall among the homeless, who probably lost what little respect or interest they had in us and dispersed back to their hideaways, most likely hoping never to see us again.
I read it and it was a little amusing. Never really went anywhere. . .I thought it would be more exciting. And I didn't laugh. It was well written though. Had a very Gonzo-feel to it.
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"It's all just a dream, babe
A vacuum, a scheme, babe
That sucks you into feelin' like this."
I love me some gonzo. Yeah it would be cooler if they stole a herd of elephants from the zoo and used them to commandeer a warship but what can you do?
Quote: crackawebsta said: I read it and it was a little amusing. Never really went anywhere. . .I thought it would be more exciting. And I didn't laugh. It was well written though. Had a very Gonzo-feel to it.
Quote: druqs said: don't worry, blame your brain and get pumped full of amphetamines by a doctor.
problem solved.
I do plenty of meth-amphetamines.
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/ / / / / / / LISTEN TO MY MUSIC: Band Camp , Sound Cloud / / / / / / / / / / / / / / JOIN MY RELIGION: Go To Post / / / / / / / The universe gives no fucks. And takes no fucks.
Quote: By this point we had given up on beer and were in need of sugar. Not wanting to disappoint our literal "followers", we ventured out again in search of a Subway, as part of an idiotic experiment to find out for exactly how long a large group of homeless men and two kids would be permitted to sit in Subway sharing one refillable drink before being removed from the premises. We were sadly rejected from even entering Subway – meaning no refills for anyone. It was this event that marked our fall among the homeless, who probably lost what little respect or interest they had in us and dispersed back to their hideaways, most likely hoping never to see us again.
I thought it was a rather entertaining read... Not hilarious but probably something I wouldn't be able to accomplish on an average dose of 2c-b (40mg's for me). Mann what I would do for some 2c-b right now
You're missing out, sometimes long posts are the best. By having a post length reading limit you may be limiting your shroomery experience to pointless chat
Quote: druqs said: don't worry, blame your brain and get pumped full of amphetamines by a doctor.
problem solved.
is it really that easy?
i could use some prescribed drugs
Its extremely easy. I just went to a doctor and said i thought i had ADD, they did some test, then prescribed me adderall a few months later (i asked for adderall and they were like "sure").
Quote: druqs said: don't worry, blame your brain and get pumped full of amphetamines by a doctor.
problem solved.
is it really that easy?
i could use some prescribed drugs
Its extremely easy. I just went to a doctor and said i thought i had ADD, they did some test, then prescribed me adderall a few months later (i asked for adderall and they were like "sure").
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I may have to try this
