mmmmmkay... I'm coming down from these monstrous mushies now, so I'm trying to decide on a suitable course to begin the ramifications of the magnificient magickal monstrous mushrrrroooooom triiiiiippp... err... How to begin?
There were like, 5 of us in my father's El Camino, and the fat dude in the back (with $55 worth of mushrooms in his bloodstream) was freaking out... so we decided to drive over to his friend's house. I missed my turn, so I drove into what I thought was a vacant lot to turn around. As I was turning around, the aforementioned Fat Dude hopped out of the back and proceeded to take a leisurely pee on the ground. This quickly turned into the most harrowing experience of my life... I think it was the headlights on the cop car that I saw first. Yes, then it was the flashing red and blue. I was SSSSSOOOOOOO scared because I was HEAVILY under the influence of psychidelic drugs and looked the part every bit. Not only were my eyes BIG and CRAZY, but I was wearing my black plastic pants, black shiny shirt, and purple fishnet pantyhose on my arms... then there is the Marilyn Manson logo that announces the presence of my lunchbox whereever I go, and the massive, electric red mane of hair that perches atop my head... I was also in full makeup, and had the appearance of a psychidelic clown from HELL.
Where was I? Oh yes... I was freaking out!!!!!!! The policeman strode up to my door and asked what we were doing. Normally, I would just say "I'm turning around." Not while TRIPPIN. By concentrating on the fact that WE MUST LOOK NORMAL, we succeeded in convincing the cop that we were FUCKED UP OUT OF OUR MINDS. As I was pleading with him that I was simply turning around, I made the mistake of looking into his flashlight. I could feel his eyes reach into mine and knew that he saw my mushroom-made madness as it permeated my every facet of existance. He then asked for my license. Fear gripped me by the throat and slammed me against the car a few thousand times. As I handed him my license, I couldn't help but feel a sort of exhileration at this potential danger to my life as a Non-Convict. He asked my brother for his name, and asked him if he had ever been contacted by the police. My brother, who is on probation, didn't know what the cop meant (he too was trippin, by the way) began to panic. I could see the fear well up in his eyes and was frightened that the cop could arrest him and drag him to jail. He asked again. We were still confounded, and aware that he was probably onto us. My brother asked if that meant that the police ever called him up on the phone. That was funny, but only in RETROSPECT. After telling the cop that the police DID infact contact him, the pig walked back to his truck. *As I type this, my brother insists that the cop was in a car*
What could we do? We sat there, and tripped on the fact that the fat dude was going to get us arrested. We stated (over and over) "PARTY FOUL!!! GETTIN' US ARRESTED!!!! You don't get your next hit, because you got us thrown in jail!!!" Then I started to make excuses as to why we were in town, why we were driving, where we were going, where we were from, and anything else I could think of at the moment. My brother pointed this out to me, and I realized that I had nothing to worry about. Crazy. We were kinda enjoying it, actually. Funny how incarceration for a DUI was lingering before me, and I didn't take it seriously. I had a good time! Well, the cop came back after what seemed like a lifetime and gave me my license back. He was very nice to inform us that we happened to be in a Heavily Restricted Area (I guess that's why there was a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire surrounding the place) and WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. I assured him that we WOULDN'T go back. He then informed the Fat Dude that "with your arrest record, the last thing you need is a 'Urinating in Public' offense." So he let us go. My brother reported having an orgasm when the policeman let us go. I felt the same. OH YES. On the way back, I drove a LOT more carefully, and we all joked about what fun that was! IT WAS THE SCARIEST EXPERIENCE I WILL EVER HAVE. And I was having a good time. Funny how the mushrooms work.
firstname.lastname@example.org = me
email@example.com = my brother