Ok, so here's the deal I'm a little drunk while writtng this so that's what I'm going to blame the speling and grammar on. This is an account not a story. It talks about drugs other than shrooms but centers on the tripping experience. It is extremelly long as I just couldn't bear to shorten it. So if you have some time and want to come along on a revisit of this experience begin.
Here's the setting; It's just Me, my friend Kyle, and my friend Whitey. Were all in kyle's Lincon Mark VII. But his house is empty for the weekend so were goona party there. It's about 7:oo pm EST, on some saturday evening in mid-july.
I am by nature a buyer/grower and in turn seller of hard to get goods and services. ever since I can remember that's the way it's been. So naturally when my good friend kyle called me up to asked if I wanted to hang out I was intrigued, when he said that he felt dangerously upset at his mother and thought he that an ol'fashioned drug binge was in order I was sold. I have to admit as cleche' as this sounds I truly am a bad influence on my friends. i can remember when me and whitey were in boy scouts and we would sneek out early at the ends of the meetings so we could go smoke the worlds worst free-roled cigarette that I scavanged from a pack of wet cigaretes I found. I still remember the taste of two lungs full of construction papper smoke. Now kyle had smoked grass with me lots of times. He was terribly bad at it for 180 pound wide-reciever but nevertheless I managed to put up with many a volcanoed bowl and coughing fit. Whitey, well I lost whitey as far as drug experimentation quite awhile ago. Which is probably why I was exstatic to hear that He wanted to do some first time binging of his own.
So I get a ride from a friend down to the spot where we all meet. I took up a funds collection for the night. This is ussually the most limmiting part of the evening so I hate doing it, fortunately on this occasion it was just payday and peoples free-flowing anger towards there responsible peers was at an all time high. I believe that with my 200 we had about 530 american dollars. Now as all of you know this is a very dangerous amount of money to buy copius amounts of drugs with. So we went to the big D, Detroiot that is. Drugs were to be purchased according to illegality. We started with the beer and liquor. So up to ppontiac we went, where we dropped in at a good friend of mines. He was just going on a beer run for the house party going on. I wasn't driving so Me and Whitey filled up the biggest drinking utencills we could find.
It's getting to be a pretty good night. i've got a nice liquor buzz from the few swiggs I stole and the watering pitcheer of beer. Whitey is looking good, he can hold his own drinking. There was a nice brand-new four foot bong there but whitey didn't want his first smoke to be out of a bong in a circle of tipsy people he didn't know. I couldn't blame him but I had a hit anyways. It was pretty weak. I remember the paranoid look on Kyle's face driving home underage with a quarter barrel and a fifth of blue saphire in the back seat. It worried me because we were no where near as twisted as I was goona get and this wa only the first item on our shopping list of illegality.
It's time to go to Bake Lake commonly known as White Lake trailer park. This is supprisingly enough a wasteland of marijuana cultivation. From the outside it looks like a reasonably upscale mobile home park. But the truth is that if you know anybody you can get top-notch grass there for unbelievable prices inside of 15 minutes 12-12 7 days a week including holidays. Whitey was actually here with me my first time about a year ago at the end of his drug curiosity phase. We pulled in to the rec-center, but I didn't know anyone playing basketball so we pulled out and went towards a friends house. Brook is a nice girl I like her alot despite what people say. We never got there though because on the way I saw A hook I know so we stopped rolled down the window worked out the pricing situation then gave him a ride back to his double-wide. That's right a 17 year old kid that owns his own double-wide. Drugs can be profitable I guess. I buy weight there all the time so we got an extra good deal. a A QP of the dankest buds Bake Lake has to offer the low low price of 200 bucks. I also bought a twenty sack of the acid-weed on the side just for kicks. Mission accomplished, Kyle's overly paranoid eye's reached epic proportions as he stared at the big bag of green while i rolled up a couple pinners. I lit two and passed one to Whitey. Inhale deeply and hold until your lungs catch flame. He did ok smoking too, better than kyle who abstained while driving.
Kyle share's another spliff with me at the house. Whitey is blown way the hell out. His eye's looked like the inside of a swollen grape fruit. Me and him had a couple of shots. i had forgotten how much i liked drinking with him. The evening was taking a decidedly upbeat tone. Our next quest was into Detroit itself to the downtown district of woodward ave. We brought music and a cell phone. It took longer to get there because of the weed directions paradox. That is they don't mix well. But we finally found our way down. Kyle asked me just as we were pulling up to the curb if we could get some shrooms. Kyle had tripped on a hit of blotter I gave him once but was always a bit intrested in shrooms. Talking to the crack head on the corner was difficult of course it always is. You have to be carefull not to get steered into a purchase you don't wan't. All in all after some run around and a police scare we aquired 10 grams of columbia's finest powdered product. Not that nasty half cut crack making shit but the good stuff that feels like novocaine and tastes like powdered asprin. Plus a half oz. of shrooms, they looked like P. Cubenesis to me but ther is no way to be sure. And two sugar cubes that the dealer threw in free to get rid of em. The attitude on the way home was cheery to say the least. We blazed another joint this time a big eigth ounce dutch one. And I made Kyle clam bake it despite minor protest.
On the way back we stopeed and got munchies. Including a can of alphabet soup for Kyle. remember the can of soup. We made our way back just barely. I was quite pleased with my current buzz. Whitey and kyle were baked outta there minds. Starring at stuff and occasionally bursting into a short gigglinf fit was the them for the hour.
Kyle was eager to begin drinking to catch up, but after his third shot I told him that it was best to keep liquor consumption to a minimum before doseing. Besides my bottle of blue saphire was almost gone. I refilled my pitcher and began blending up the entire half ounce of shrooms in the blender with two cans of O.J. concentrate and some sunny delight. I poured it into two big gulp cups and began to lay out the what to expect and what to do for the evening. I figured that we were home alone in nice well stocked house for the night with nothing to do tommorow but recover so why not. Kyle had tripped before and was sure he wanted to trip hard again so he quickly gulped down one cup of the slimey mess. Me and Whitey shared the other with me drinking slightly more as Whitey couldn't stand the taste. I can't either I ussuallly dry em out and pour the powder into caplets. I cozied down next to the pool tablr Kyle uses as a pool/dinner/recreational area table. It's in direct line of sight to his 42 inch TV. Kyle is one of the lucky few with digital cable. so we ordered up a movie. I felt that everyone was slowing down too early in the evening so I got out the coke. I cut up a few grams and layed them out. I did a few, just enought o get that wonderfull euphoric but hyper sensation Kyle did the rest with Whitey setteling for another doobie laced up.
I grabbed the blue saphire bottle and went out on the porch. Whitey joined me and we finished off the bottle. We had this really deep conversation about life and current affairs. I think he was starting rev up from the shrooms. He passed back the bottle and said he didn't fell like drinky right now he was a little queesy. We went back and joined Kyle who was working himself up into a coke frenzy. He said it was balancing out the trip comming on. Him and Whitey both started talking about what was begining to happen. I guess I was a little jealouse I couldn't feel anything but a light liquor warmth a coke buzz and heavily stoned.
I was contemplating takeing some acid when Kyle stood up on the pool table and suddenly announced that he was going to go fuck whatever the first mamal was that he could find. Whitey said Okay. And I knowing coke a little better said Okay with the exception of me and Whitey. He then jumped down and bolted at top speed across the room and out the door. Whitey followed walking considerably less agile and I ensued reluctantly joint in hand. We followed out the front door, down the driveway, and a little ways down the street where I quickly recognized Kyle up on top of a late model Caddillac outside of his neighbors house. He ran up the hood in sock feet nose encrusted with white powder and proceeded to powerbomb the roof. Creasing it down the middle. We yelled at him and all he did was run down the back and take off down the street far too fast for us to follow. No more drugs for that person Whitey said. He was tripping hard and loving it. We got inside and I surveyed the situation. Kyle was running through the streets at 12:30 in the morning high, drunk, tripping heavily, and bent out of his mind on coke. Whitey assured me in broken english and rapid hand gestures that he was fine. He thought that the mushies were levelling out. I figured Kyle was too fast of a runner to get caught by anyone so I decided not to worry. I then took the two sugar cubes that we got for free and smoked all the acid-weed in a make-shift pringles can bong that worked extremelly well. (If anyone wants the plans e-mail me at email@example.com).
Whitey's trip as it turned out took off for quite awhile longer he was just now showing signs of hitting the peek. I remember a wierd cycle of paranoid near bad trip raveing comments about how Kyle was goona get arrested and the piigs would come to our door and he would get busted. Followed by a series of bong smoking sessions to calm him down. The two of us had drunk probably about half of the quarter barrel by now. whitey was desperetly trying to watch a movie, smoke a joint, and drink a glass of beer at the same time. I couldn't help but stare at his only mildly morphing face that was going through a slide show of famouse art work. First he was the mona lissa then a cubist portrait then he took on the pattern of a magic eye book picture. I was so stoned that I had nearly forgotten about taking the acid. I got it locked in my mind that the shrooms were near effectless and that I was just sooooo stoned plus the acid-weed, I guess I just didn't realise the trip creeping up on me. Whitey had levelled out and was starring at the joint floating in his beer. I got up and proudly announced that I was going to get community water for all the smokeing we would be doing, cotton-mouth is a bitch.
I find myself unable to recall the exact location of the nearest bathtub. I knew I needed it to fill the milk jug I had found. Side note: (I later was informed that the milk jug was not empty when I found it, I apparently poured it into one of the door pockets in the fridge, however I do not recall this). I vaguely remember a bathroom in the basement but I'm having trouble concentrating. My mind is working in a mental loop. I suddelnlt become aware of the instabilituy of the room. The corners where walls meet are shifting side to side waving and breathing. The black tiles are begining to seep into the white tiles, the clocks on the stove and microwave are projecting outward in an infinite path of light. I managed to crawl to the stares. I seemed to have given myself the impression that the microwave display is a laser trigger for a bomb that Kyles mom set to kill us if he did anything illegal. I felt that standing risked interupting the beam and setting off the bomb. My trip was just reaching level four.
I finnally psyched myself into traversing the stairs. They were shifting right to left in alternating steps I remember thinking that the atoms between the air in the room and the wood of the stairs could be bribed with promises to scoop them up and take them outside where they could be free. They in turn protected me by not letting me trip and fall down the slippery steps. It took me about another half hour to get all the way down. I was twisted hard now. As I made my way down the steps i was making my way to hell, each step another level of hell. On each one I faced fantastic hallucinations of demons and combatants that I had to defeat in order to continue to the next step. The final one was the hardest it resembled something like that movie "Tron". I had to ride a computer generated hoverbike in a to the death battle with satan who had taken the form of pee wee herman. No shitting. Once down the stares I looked out into the room sudenly aware of my mission to get water again. I made my way to the bathroom, all the while conversing with myself and the characters from just about every movie I've ever seen. they just popped up and said something then I would respond and they would morph into someone else and carry on the conversation. I was in and out of awareness of my current surroundings. But I made it too the bathroom okay.
I have spent the last hour or so looking at my freckles project purple beams of light and attempting to get in the shower/tub to fill the milk jug. The mirror had caught me off guard. My self-image was unsettling and made me reconsider the physical boundries of this dimension. And with that I left this form and became many shapes. Each one unable to get in the tub to fill the jug. I broke down in an introspective thought-loop about the microcosm of my life and it's meaninglessness in the grnd scale of things. I evventually came to the conclusion that I must get this water to my friend before he died. With that I stood up my arms and legs grew long anf gangly my torso streched and my faqce lengthened. It took several tries to slide into the tub from there i had a problem reading the knob before i turned it all the way to the cold setting and filled up the recepticle.I think that getting into the shower was my peak. Because I found it considerably less difficult to get back up the stairs.
Iwas greated by a wickedly grinning Kyle sitting ass first in the kitchen sink with something in his hand. his face was gaunt and expressionless except for this big ear to ear smile that somehow portrayed anger to me. I looked over at a pair of of feet and legs kicking on the ground laying out of an open doorway that ws very small. All I could see was the legs and feet. They were norma sized though. A great blue-white light was filling the room emminating from the open mini-door in pulses that sped up. eventually to the point where they became a voice. Whitey's voice. He was mumbling about the luncheon meat. I looked up at Kyle but he wasn't there. the clock on the stove read 4:46 but he one on the microwave read hell like you used to put on your calculator just because you were bored. As I walked towards the mini-door it grew larger and larger. i was reminded of a seen from alice in wonderland. I suddenly wanted to hear white rabbit by jefferson airplane. Once in front of it only a few feet away. I could see that it was Whitey on his hands and knee's in front of the fridge. Something was wrong though. his hair it was different. At first I thought it was wet then i realized that it was bloody. His hair was slicked down and dripping with blood. A loud crash turned my head. There was Kyle angrily pacing in the other room mumbling about something. When I looked back Whitey was standing quite contorted in front of me. His lips were moving really fast but the sound came out slow and sped up to normal. I walked over and asked Kyle what was wrong with Whitey. He told me that he came home and Whitey was hiding under the pool table raveing about how we were all fake that there was no earth outside of his field of vision. That the entire univrse was a figment of his imagination. Kyle was straight enough to use a trick I used on him once to calm him down. He told Whitey to go and get the Red grapefruit out of the fridge so that he would calm down. Kyle himself however was handlig his trip pretty well. With the exception of this can of Alphabet Soup he had. He said he found it when he was out jogging. But he couldn't find to tab to open it. I wasn't sharp enough yet to catch the fact that it had no tab. And so the two of us grabbed aand loaded afat bowl in the pringles bong and went in search of a phonebook so that we could call customer service and work this out.
The shrooms are gone, the coke is long gone, the liquor was warm but not buzzing, the grass was picking up, but the acid was still comming on strong. After an hour and a half. We had managed to call several phone numbers that the operater gave us or that we found in the phonebook. None of which were even remotely rlated to our cause. We gave that up when Kyle started hearing the poor little noodles inside screaming for help. I pictured a can full of jewish letter shaped noodles with little eyes and feet just like on the label crying and screaming as they were drowned in there own cheese and tomatoe sauce by some nazi line worker at campbells. We finally managed to get the can open with a piece of wood with a nail we pounded into it with the hammer we found. Eventually spilling the can open on the concretefloor of the garage. i left when Kyle began eating the lifeless drowned noodles off the floor. I went inside to find Whitey it was about 5:45 and I had smoked my trip down to a level 3 or so. I found Whitey sitting half under the sink with two oven mitts on, holding a pancack grittle that had something foul smellin all over it. Whitey calmly explained to me that he wanted to make hamburger helper but he couldn't find a pan so he just poured the seasoning and noodles on the grittle. Then he couldn't find any meat or water or milk :) so he just poured on some O.J. that was left and some rice he found instead of the meat and he couldn't figure out how to turn the stove on so he was going to hold his lighter under the pan but he got sidetracked with the beauty of the flame. When I left him a half hour later he was eating the uncooked noodles in O.J. with rice and powdered seasoning by the handfull.
I havent seen or heard from Kyle or Whitey since I left them. My trip was winding down it had taken on a nice mellow feel after a few lines. I fell asleep watching an old episode of playboyafterdark trying to decide if hue heffner was immortal or not.
9:45pm sunday night
I woke up on a cushionless couch under a plastic tarp that to this day I don't ever remember seeing before that but I apparently stole it off of a car in someones driveway on the way home with Whitey after we were chasing Kyle. There were a few coke smiley faces on the pool table. Bags of grass and buds were strewn about. fodd lay were it was dropped. The barrel had a slosh at the bottom so I filled my pitcher and went in search of my friends. I found many interesting things around the house. Among them were a giant fucking puddlu of milk in front of the fridge, a dozen or so drawings of what looked like a can of soup on the counter, a crude scribbling on the tv done in some sort of wax. An empty milk jug, Kyle sleeping naked sitting on the john with the door open, an unconcious Whitey curled up into a fetal position in the corner of the porch. All in all evidence of mass consuption of drugs.
Conclusion 3:14 am next sunday
all in all it was an enlightening experience. I would never think of toneing things down. We have shared our memmories pieced together what happened. And come to the conclussion that we need cam-corder's next time we dicde to blow 530 bucks on drugs. Thank You for listening to my storie if you made it this far your either cheating and scrolling down or very patient.