A good trip gone bad

I had about a month and a half ago, a really "wierd" experience with some mushies.

First, I need to set the background. My parents found out that I smoked weed at the beginning of August when my Dad walked in while my cousin and I were smoking from Mr. BoBongles, my bong I made in ceramics at school. (Rest his poor bubblin soul...) My parents weren't too happy about me smokin weed, to say the least. They believe in the absolute authority of the law, and unfortunately Cannabis isn't within those boundaries. They now subject me to Quad-Yearly piss tests. Also, I sold some Mushrooms to some juniors at my school who in-turn had some "friend" narc on them to their parents after they ate them. (Ironically, they didn't trip, one girl got sick to her stomach though...) Well, they narced on me to the girl's mom, who just happens to be a drug and alcohol counselor for the local juvenile "correctional" facility. She gets a hold of me on the phone, while I was smokin a bowl one afternoon and *somehow* got me to admit to her that I sold the shrooms to her kid. Either way, to make things short, she come over to my house the day before my 18th birthday to tell my parents what I did. (Eventually I WILL have my revenge on her and the narcs...) Of course my parents freaked and they made me agree to go with them to go see a family counselor or else.

About a week before the trip, I picked up about a 1/4 Oz of prime cubensis downtown for $30 and a 20 sack of primo purble bud for $10. The girl I bought them from said that ONE 1" cap was enough to trip balls. They sure did the trick thats for sure...

I planned to take the trip on a Friday that I had no school (I'm a Senior). With my Dad off hunting for the weekend and my Mom at work all day, I was sure to be alone and safe.

A few days before the journey was to take place, i came down with a minor cold. No little cold was going to interfere with my trip! Unfortunately i got progressively worse, until I missed school the day before the trip. Oh well, thats still not going to stop me!

The day of the trip, my illness lifted somewhat and I was left with a runny nose and a sore throat. Nothin a couple of shrooms and a few phat bowls of purple bud wouldn't fix.

Now for the juicy (mushie) stuff:
Around noon, after my Mom left for work, I went downstairs and prepared my magical concoction: 1/2 cup of shroom dust and stems'n'caps to one large glass of OJ, about 2/3 of my baggie of fungi. I downed the mixture and headed upstairs to play some System Shock 2 until the trip started.

About 15 minutes after ingestion, the first signs of the Shrooms were apparent, so I quickly exited the game (No way in hell was I going to play System Shock 2 while shroomin! That game is scary enough without the added effect of mushrooms if you know what I mean!).

I put on the Grateful Dead's "American Beauty" and pulled out the sack of weed and my cute little 6" ceramic bong I call Dr. Greenthumb. I closed my windows to create a smoke haze, lit some incense, and packed a big bowl. As I puffed away, I began to have the "Liquid Breathing" effect and was able to take monster bong hits. My mood was gradually getting happier and happier with the anticipation of the trip, so I called my friend up at work an told him to stop by on his lunch break so we could smoke a bowl together.

[As the trip progressed, my memories became fragmented, so here is my best recollection of what happened.]

After calling my friend, I lay on my bed and listened to the Grateful Dead while the trip started. When the room began breathing, I knew it was time to go downstairs into the living room and watch some t.v., maybe a movie too, I'd come back up later to play my guitar and attempt to play a computer game.

As the trip intensified, I quickly lost all touch with reality. About 1:30 p.m. the phone rang. This was the start of pure confusion. Although I knew I shouldn't have answered the phone, I did.

BAD IDEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can remember what happened during that phone call very well, mainly because it still haunts me. Who else is on the phone but Dr. Counselor Woman Lady Person! She was returning a call from the previous day about me needing to reschedule a meeting, something I was unsure about sober, let alone tripping. I responded with the normal, "Hello", but thats about it. Anything else she said could not be comprehended by my mind, I was gone. She started asking me questions about things but I had already lost my Ego so all that I said was "Huh?" and "I'm not quite sure what you're talking about..." over an over again. I was beginning to feel like I was lost and that she was trying to show me the Way, but I could no longer understand spoken language. This was too much. As she was in the middle of a sentance, I hung up on her and set the portable phone down in my room.
Bleeep, bleep!

Habit made me pick up the phone again.
Me: "Hello?"
Dr: "Oops, was that you or me who hung up the phone?"
Me: "Uhhh, yeah."
Dr: "What?"
Me: "Mmm, hmmm."
Dr: "Oh well, now what what day do we need so schedule our next appointment?"
Me: "I'm not quite sure waht you're talking about..."
[Sense of being lost and stuck in a repeating time warp]
Dr: "You called me up the other day to reschedule our next meeting."
Me: "Uh yeah, I got a thing on that day to do."
Dr: "What is that?"
Me: "Huh? I don't remember."
Dr: "What?"
Me: "I'm all confused!"
Dr: "Me too, what's going on?"
[At this point, panic sets in]
Me: "I don't know what you mean!"
Dr: "Listen (Shloomph), are you OK?"
Me: "Huh? I don't know what you're saying!"
[At this point, I realized that this was not good and decided to end it, so I hung up]

Now Dr. Lady Person called back, and we repeated the above conversation 2 or 3 times before she finally said "I'll call you back later."
Good, now I could continue with my trip and contemplate the universe in peace.

Unfortunately, the psilocin in my brain decided elsewise.

I now was in my room and had lost all concept of reality.
In an attempt to remain my conciousness, I did the first thing that popped into my mind that was normal.

Apply underarm deodorant!

I furoiusly scrubbed my underarms with speed stick for about a minute, then tried to put on some music to calm me. Unfortunately, every time I grabbed a CD, it tried to juggle itself out of my hands, so I chased CDs around my room for a while. This was too much for me.

I ran back downstairs to lie on the couch and die. I lay there, realizing that I was alone in the universe. The TV was on, so I stared at it for a while, watching the Weather Channel, unable to understand the concept of how to change the channel. The old man giving the national report was God, and was trying to tell me something.

He was telling me that while my spirit was in Heaven, my body was still on earth, and that my earthly body had done something very naughty to the new couch.

I pissed all over myself while I was trippin'.

OOPS!

It was now about 3:30.
Once I realized what I had done, I ran up stairs and pulled off my piss stained jeans, shirt, sweater, socks, and underwear, tossing the into a big, smelly pile at the head of the stairs near my room.

I now ran into my bedroom and lay in my bed, naked, until 4:30, unsure of what to do.
During this time, I kept hearing the Grateful Dead in my head and realized that Jerry Garcia was right, life is just a trip, be it good or bad. We should enjoy life, simply stated. Do what ever makes you happy, laws are not the final authority of your life, you are.

OK, back to the trip.
I looked at the clock on my night stand and had this REALLY wierd visual effect of looking at the digital display through on of those dragonfly lenses. This lasted util 5:00 pm.

Now mind you, my Mom comes home from work around 5:15-30, and I was completely naked, with a pile of pissy clothes on the floor, and a pissed stained/smelling couch to clean up.

OH SHIT!!!!!!!!
TIME TO PANIC!!!!!!!!!!

I picked up the stinky clothes and ran downstairs to throw then into the wash. Yeah, right.
Now I was totally confused on how to operate the damn thing, so I ran back upstairs to my room.

Now what?

I realized that since I smelled like urine, I should now wash myself up, so I ran into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and saw that my eyes were pure pupil. This was facinating, but I really needed to take care of the stinky clothes and clean up the couch.

I ran back downstairs and back to my room a few more times, finally realizing that I should put all of my clothes into a garbage bag and deal with them at a later time.

Now to tackle the couch problem. Nothing a towel and a can of Lysol can't fix, right?

Right!

Then my trip suddenly stopped.