Tales from the Hippocampus-My Last Remaining Neuron Remembers (703 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 2 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Ex Lux Astrum (View user info) at 2004-11-11 20:46:03 EST
I was going to high school, living in Rome, Italy, the first time I ate a chunk of LSD (strawberry 'cid). My friends fabulously flipped and surreptitiously fled. Spooked by being alone, I ended up going to see a movie with my 78 year old grandma. The movie was Woodstock, and was in Italian, dubbed in English. I hallucinated some greasy, ogre-looking queer trying to touch my leg. (Was it real or was it Memorex?) I told him to fuck-off, and spent the next 3 hours laughing hysterically. My granny was confused (but being 78, and a granny, that was normal operating procedure for her).
The first time I ate psilocybin mushrooms I was in Lakeland, Florida. We went out to the steamy cow pastures in late morning, the day heating rapidly (Turkish bath) after the rainy night. With glee we plucked the pretty-puppies from gooey piles of cow shit, breaking stems and checking for purple authenticity. Back at the dorm, our fungal bounty slid down our gullets like bulbous boogers. We washed them down with ice tea. Sun tea.
The buildings at Florida Southern College were designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. They are spacey, white stucko; they are sexily curvaceous, they are awkwardly angular. They are weird and futuristically appealing. They are pieces in a puzzle, a perfect psychedelic playground. We explored the roofs like demented alley cats padding through the deep pastures of night. We meandered the secret avenues and hidden boulevards of our cruising minds as well as Wright's alien architecture.
Later we snuck into a Southern Belle fashion show that several sorority's had arranged. We laughed so hard it felt like we did 200 sit-ups, we couldn't breathe, tears flowed like oil from a leaky hydraulic line--no doubt brain cells were incorporated in those tears.
We were quite rudely escorted out of the chiffon and lace, crystal punch -bowled function by preppy looking Baptists.
The first time I ate peyote buttons I was in New Paltz, New York. Some ancient, grizzled, Chief Dan George-looking Indian dude, who kept muttering "Je suis americain" for some unknown reason, showed me how to pluck out the strychnine-like hairs that feathered the tops of the buttons. I gagged down the chopped up bits - O you bitter bitch- and washed them down with a pair of Heineken's. A little later, I vomited copiously.
Then I joined Aldous Huxley, Carlos Castaneda, and Alice down the rabbit hole and through the "Doors of Perception", eagerly visiting "Heaven and Hell" and supposedly learning the teachings of Don Juan "All paths are the same: they lead nowhere".
After 2 and ½ hours I realized incoherently (albeit realization came parceled out in strobe-like photographic pieces of fragmented thought) that I was sitting in a dark room in the corner, by myself. I proceeded to drink half a fifth of Makers Mark to "come down". Then I went out on the town and wreaked havoc. *Hiccup* *Deep space* *Hiccup*
The first time I snorted crystal methedrine I found myself strangely energetic. Fucking invincible. I guzzled Colt 45 six packs. I chain-smoked Camel non-filters. *Snort* *Pop Boing* I conquered twenty people in a row on the ping-pong table: spooky, preternatural reflexes. I went insanely, inexplicably, from near the bottom of the racketball-standings ladder (7th ), to first place, whizzing about the court like the Tasmanian devil. The coach stared slack-jawed and baffled, scratching his over-sized crew-cut head. *Snort* *Pop Boing* I chased the bump by smoking some good weed, found myself re-energized, and hit the pool table, holding it for three hours straight. My souped-up mind was like the bastard child of Euclid and Einstein---I foresaw the geometry and space-time of the balls on the table in several fucking dimensions at once. I almost could close my eyes and not miss a shot--the fuckin' Force, baby.
And the first time I barbituated myself I was still in New York. And no, I'm not talking about our scheduled Thursday night "Bowling for Valium" escapades either. We were outdoors doing relatively healthy, all-american type shit. I was racing my buddy and my girlfriend on an icy track in Upstate New York. We were on rented horses. My pig was called "Comanche". Ol' Comanche seemed pretty fired-up at the stable, shifting nervously as I cinched the straps. I should have known better. The cocksucker had that insane, white-of-the-eyes, Charles Manson stare - a panicked look about him that certain psychotic equine's can give you. Who knows what tortured childhood this prick had? Lived by a glue factory? Ate tasty, crunchy rations of barley and rye that contained Ergot(a psychotropic fungus "Claviceps purpurea")...Mmmmm, Claviceps purpurea... *drool*.
We rode about 20 minutes through the December countryside, a clear, crisp day of about 31 degrees. We reached a field that had a make-shift oval track dug into it. Yippee- Kai- Yay, Kimosabe-let's drag! I smacked numbnuts on the flank and he took off like a horse possessed.
I passed Melissa and Robby like the wind.
I was on Smarty Jones at the Derby. I was on Secretariat at the Belmont. I was on Hidalgo, flipping ragheads the finger in the desert as I raced past their raghead sheets flapping uselessly in the raghead breeze. I was on the Black Stallion, overtaking a young Liz Taylor in National Velvet; I brake my ebony steed suddenly to a hoof-skidding stop, leap gallantly to the ground, and race over to Liz. I fling her off her horse, throw her to the ground, and happily fuck her up the ass.
Then, rudely interrupting my galloping daydreams, my fucking nag hits a patch of ice on the inside turn. He dropped like my Norton Commando. He dropped like a ton of fast moving shit, on my left ankle and leg. When you're at a full gallop at 30 mph, a 600 pound horse feels like an SUV coming down on you. To make matters worse, I was wearing construction boots. When Mister Ed came down on my leg, my foot got stuck in the stirrup. I felt an initial crunch in my ankle, then watched in horror as dip-shit did the epilectic watusi, flip-floppin' about, freaking-out trying to get back up. I had visions of being dragged miles by this insane fuck. I kept yanking my foot to release it, and heard and felt stringy shit in my ankle (tendons, ligaments) going boing, bing, bzzap. Jim Morrison had it right: "When all else fails We can whip the horse's eyes And make them sleep And cry".
After I got free, Robby and Meliisa helped me up, staring in fascination at my ankle flopping in the breeze. Robby, who oddly enough is today an MD, proceeded to stuff 3 Tuinal F66 "pain relievers" down my throat. After they rounded up a skittish Comanche, I had to ride the fuck back to the stable. I kept beating him on his bonehead with my fist to calm him down.
The dickhead at the emergency room told me that he doubted my ankle was broken, because I would be in excruciating pain if it were. I smiled at him serenely. When he saw the x-rays of the bric-a-brac that used to be my ankle bones, he was truly amazed at my macho stoicism. If he only knew.
They couldn't cast my leg, because by the next day it had swelled to the size of an elephant's. But it was more colorful. It was blue and black and purple and yellow and pink and orange. The blue and pink parts of my leg reminded me of the Tuinal F66's that I made a diet of over the next week.
Fucking horses.
User Reviews
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-11-19 05:37:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by snagglepuss (user info) at 2004-11-16 00:27:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sepsis (user info) at 2004-11-14 22:47:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2004-11-12 10:25:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ew, you ate poop mushrooms.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-11-12 08:26:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by screamfeeder (user info) at 2004-11-11 21:08:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is unquestionably a worthy candidate for my 100th review!
Good Tale.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-11-11 20:59:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2004-11-11 20:53:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i laughed a lot.
dont' do drugs.
"I kept beating him on his bonehead with my fist to calm him down. "
good line