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OfflineCaptainYowza
Stranger

Registered: 01/14/11
Posts: 15
Last seen: 11 years, 8 months
Old-Ass Trip Tales 2: I'm a Fuckin' GENIUS (or, Will a Pig Throw a Frisbee?)
    #14221419 - 04/01/11 02:45 PM (12 years, 9 months ago)

I used to fry at least weekly, if not more, for I've long considered life an endless quest for psychedelics. All other aspects of life are merely filler between trips. Unfortunately, I have not had any connections for fry drugs in many years, and have sizzled good perhaps twice in the last decade. I know.....BUMMER.

But, I have enough killer trip stories from the distant past to write a book. I'd like to get some of them written before the details are forgotten. Behold one of them:

It 1986, or damn near. We tripped a lot then.

The cast of characters is the same as those in OATT-1, minus that mutant Mongoloid fuckstick RJ. He was best taken in controlled doses and was not on the menu that night.

I was with my two best friends, Greg and Craw, and we ate a bunch of blotter acid acquired from the funny old vato mentioned in Volume 1. Hung out with some of our white trash friends for a while before deciding we could find greater merriment elsewhere.

We went to a city park and started leisurely throwing the Frisbee, but after a while we started really getting into it. Sweet long-distance throws and impressive show-off catches became the rule.

One of my favorite things about tripping was a tendency to get into the zone while playing games. Pinball? Forget it - I'd play for hours on a dollar. Hoops? Three-pointers one after the other. A human physics/geometry computer rebounding beast. Frisbee? Fuckin'-A! In contrast, a Quaalude plus a quart of beer would result in atrocious athletic performance. Acid simply turned me into a physical and mental monster, in a good way.

Things got real good to us. The weather was perfect...neutral temperature with a light breeze. We were plain on fire throwing the Frisbee.

Then our dipshit city fathers struck - the lights went out! Yes, it was 10pm, and the law sez that decent Jesus-loving people have no bidness being at the park at night. And, for that matter, alcohol had been banned from all parks years before! Fucking golf-course roaming douchewads. Who elects these people?!?!?

Guilty of 7 violations (park curfew x 3, park alcohol x 2, minor alcohol x 2) already (Craw didn't drink any more, fortunately), plus the drug stuff, we hastily left the park and stocked up at the beer store.

We were pretty close to hitting the fry zone hard and remained desperate to continue playing Frisbee. A well-lit parking lot was the only option. Nearby was a truly garish, opulent building of the type flooded with silly people each Sunday in a futile attempt to curry favor with a superbeing in the sky. And, it was lit up like a motherfucker! Awesome.

By the time we got out of the car and popped the hatchback, the Reverend (or whatever the fuck he was) came careening out the door and threw us, in a surprisingly hateful manner, the bloody hell out of his damn parking lot. I called him a dickhead. He looked shocked. Life went on.

I realized where we needed to go - a lovely shopping center anchored by a yucky Burger King. Lit up like a football field, flat, and free of obstructions. Hatchback up, jams on, Frisbee flying.

Our flying disc prowess continued unabated. We stopped frequently to meet at the rear of the car and discreetly chug some icy Moosehead and smoke a bowl from the very bong you may remember slapping upside RJ's mom's noggin earlier. Our contraband was laid out in the recessed part of the hatchback area, covered with a towel.

We were certainly at risk of trouble, but tempted fate nightly back then with, over the years, only one minor arrest and many tickets to show for it. Really, I'd funded those bastards so generously that the park we fled earlier should have been named after me.

The Burger King was a pig magnet, too. Once, waiting at a light down the road, a city pig turned his lights and siren on to run a red light and weave thru traffic, and a minute later I saw his life-destroying ass up the road in that BK's drive-thru. WTF? Fucking loser pig. But, I digress.

We were having a blast, bothering nobody.

A pig car came down the major thoroughfare in front of the parking lot at about 40 mph. He kept going...and going, much to my relief, but just he was about to pass out of sight behind the adjacent Taco Bell, I saw his brake lights fire.

Shit.

I knew damn good and well that pork roast was going to hang a U-ee (how the hell do you spell that?) and reappear headed our way, and that's just what he did.

The three of us were spread out in a large triangle, with me by my car. The pigmobile was in the parking lot within a few seconds. I heard Greg say "God damn it!".

I growled a command to all to show no negative reaction to the arrival of our handcuff-happy nemeses while furiously thinking of a strategy. Really, things looked pretty grim. Arrest and many fines, plus loss of our beloved intoxicants, was imminent.

Unless....perhaps they just want some awful food? Doubtful, they would not have passed the BK, then turned back. They were there to visit with us, and this was confirmed as they cut across the lot, disregarding the BK.

And, fuck! Two pigs per car now because of that rather nasty business involving a schizophrenic bum blowing a Opey Taylor lookin' oinker's head off with a .44 fucking magnum. More pigs is ALWAYS worse than less pigs.

The pigs would be stopping and exiting their unit in less than 10 seconds. I needed a viable solution NOW. As Dazed and Confused blasted from my car, I assessed options so vigorously that steam was shooting out of my earholes. And, man, I was starting to get off pretty fucking hard. It was crucial that I appear at ease - look bewildered and guilty at that moment, and the last sliver of opportunity vanishes, period.

I told Greg to throw me the Frisbee. He delivered a perfect throw which I crisply caught as the pigs rolled to a stop about 20' away. Ahhhh, nice catch...made me look sober!

And then it happened.....

The perfect solution exploded into my consciousness. I knew it would work, too. I don't think there was any other way to handle this tense moment in a way ensuring there would be no unpleasantness. Seriously...think about it? What would you do?

'Cause, really, we were just about FUCKED!

I faced the cops and, smiling broadly, held out both arms in a "What's the deal?" manner. They stared at me. I repeated, followed by a couple of mock throws at them and another round of the ol' outstretched arms.

The pigs just stared at me.

A couple more mock throws, then I pointed at one pig, then pointed at an empty area of the lot, then did same with the other porker, followed by another mock throw and arms out, beckoning them to come play.

They looked at each other and one said a very few words to the other. Their gaze returned to me, and I shifted gears from inviting to mild exasperation. I was projecting an air of "Christ, gentlemen....come on! Are you colossal homos just gonna sit there or are ya gonna drop your socks and grab your cocks and git yo' bitch asses out of that imposing vehicle to enjoy a friendly game of Frisbee, God damn it!".

Yes, I put them on the spot! I believe that subtle change in attitude was significant, indeed.

The passenger pig held up a hand and waved me off, shaking his head and clearly communicating "Me chase a stupid frisbee around? Get real. And, by the way, I'm at work, punk."

I responded with a standard issue "Awwwww, come on!" gesture, but Porky rebuffed me again.

He looked at the young driver, said some shit while shaking his head dismissively, they put it in gear, and away they drove after waving at me. It was like I did that damn Jedi mind trick on their dumb asses.

Craw was screaming "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE A FUCKING GENIUS" before the pigs made it out of the parking lot. And yes, at that moment, I was a genius. My initial goal involved preventing them from exiting the pig car, and it came to pass. Had it not, I guess I would have had to cough up something else.

And so went they day a teenage metalhead dressed in a tattered Iron Maiden jersey from The Number of the Beast tour hornswaggled a pair of alleged public servants who earn much of their living preventing people from having fun, then ruining their lives.

Suck on that, bitches, wherever you are. This incident actually became legendary for years among local partiers. Thanks for cooperating, officers.

This is a lesson on how being calm and thinking fast can spare one much woe. Never appear to be distressed by the arrival of the cops! Fail at that, and they know you're up to something before asking a single question, and you can color yourself fucked. This is very important.

The next story will somewhat return to the lunacy of Volume 1. It involves buying acid from a violent, volatile, insane, erratic, well-connected Mexican gang member in what we called The Varrio. I still have a hard time believing this one happened as it did. Fucking insanity. Sheer insanity.

Coming soon......


--------------------
I think that life's too long to bother with suing Andrew fucking Lloyd Webber - Roger Waters, on an obvious ripoff of Echoes.

STOP calling me "Old Squaw"!!! - Eunice Douglas, to Chief Yellow Horse


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Offlinedstark
Manifesting Minds
Male User Gallery


Registered: 02/27/08
Posts: 4,144
Last seen: 6 months, 2 days
Re: Old-Ass Trip Tales 2: I'm a Fuckin' GENIUS (or, Will a Pig Throw a Frisbee?) [Re: CaptainYowza]
    #17295778 - 11/28/12 07:58 AM (11 years, 2 months ago)

Another nice story dude:)
Wish you had be back for more but you seem to be inactive, oh well...


--------------------
What is a mind, if not something to be messed with? What is consciousness, if not a state to be altered?

~I Feel
:mushroom2:
at Home~


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Offlinesky
Heir of Isildur
Male User Gallery


Registered: 11/27/07
Posts: 304
Last seen: 6 years, 8 months
Re: Old-Ass Trip Tales 2: I'm a Fuckin' GENIUS (or, Will a Pig Throw a Frisbee?) [Re: dstark]
    #17350723 - 12/07/12 03:20 PM (11 years, 1 month ago)

I'm hooked, I want more!


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