Ahh, the early '70's. My college years as I recall. Vaguely...
My drugs of choice were pot, any and all hallucinogens (I loved acid until I discovered psilocybin. Things changed wonderfully weirdly after that...) and Quaaludes. Oh lord, did I love Quaaludes!!! They were initially billed as a safe, non addictive alternative to barbiturates and narcotics (Safe and non addictive??? Are you out of your bloody mind???) They were good for insomnia and a muscle relaxant. NO FUCKING SHIT??? You lost feeling in your extremities (as well as your frontal lobes) on these things and were prone to regain consciousness in a foreign country. Sometimes still wearing your own clothes. If any clothes at all... I kind of remember (not really) a vacation in Jamaica, a public fountain, me covered in vomit and the locals throwing spoiled food at me but that's a whole other post...
I sort of remember the weekend in the dorms when I was foolish enough (lucky enough???) to mix some 'Ludes with some 'Shrooms just to see what would happen. Lord, I was so much younger and braver back then. I can't recall what happened. I'm sure I would have kicked both Marlin Perkins' ass as well as Mutual of Omaha's (maybe even that damned rhino he kept relentlessly darting) if I could only have found my extremities. Or my frontal lobes.... The colors were lovely. I think I named one of them "Susan". Or was it "Donovan"?
Yes, I have treated my body like an amusement park ride. I'm just not the type to treat it like a temple. Hand me a ticket for the Tilt-A-Whirl or the Octopus and my skinny little white ass is out looking for some of the brown acid, just letting it kick in while I'm waiting in line. Yeah, I was the one starting to giggle behind you in line. Hell, I was once up to my tits on peyote on the Tea Cups at Disney World. That was a fun 3 minutes. Right up until I blew lunch all over that nice young family sharing the cup with me. However, a couple of minutes later things did start to get WAY more colorful. At least for me. I came to later the next morning in a shatteringly tacky Disney World hotel room with my Mouseketeer hat missing an ear, the honor bar totally drained and me sporting a black eye. Oh, well, I guess a good time was had by all... Sure wish I could remember it though.
My motto has always been "We're not here for a long time, just a good time". It has served me well over the years, sometimes even served me too well as I can almost remember. Sort of... Give me a handful of nickels and I'm buying candy. Give me a fist full of singles and I'm stuffing those suckers in somebody's g-string. Give me a timer that counts down my lifetime in less fingers than I have on both hands and I'm setting the cruise control to 110. Maybe even 130 if I have enough cylinders at my disposal!!!
Life is too short for coach class, too long for youth and WAY too important to ever be taken seriously. Learn to ride a unicycle. In a dress. Dressed as a penguin. Show the person next to you on the bus the toothbrush you found in the gutter. And tell them how lucky you feel. Repeatedly. Pick up that single shoe you found on the side of road. And wear it. As a hat. Give that awful street musician a penny. And then ask for change. Kick the bloody hell out of any one under the age of 45 wearing a tie dyed anything. You're supposed to make those damned things, you idiot, NOT buy them at ShopKo!!! And for god's sake, let me know if you have any Ludes!!!
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