I’m sleeping too much albeit in small installments. Times of stress are like that. In the old daze when I was a part time drug addict,…well okay maybe not addict. When I got to know ‘real’ addictive comrades I found out what a total amateur I was.
These heroic pharmaceutical maniacs sucked down quantities of chemicals during a weekend binge that would have taken me two years to score, and do!One pal described a gleeful cocaine angel dust speed whiskey cocktail that would have killed a dozen Cossacks, and the draft horses they rode in on.
…and then went back for seconds.
Where was I?
Right dreaming of dust buster parties past. I recall back in the fading 1980’s doing what we called “Biggles”. Named after someone in a Monty Python skit.
A Biggle is basically a quarter gram or more cocaine line. Eh back in the day the recording, film video, and general broadcast industry ran on speed, and coke. Hey it was another era different values gimme a break.
Anyway to prove your insanity one would snort down the whole thing in one quick zap! This to the demented applause of your pals. If you didn’t 'die’ you were rewarded with a vodka martini...extra dry.
Ah I gleefully recall the summer of '83.
Where was I?
Right dreaming of dust buster parties past. I recall back in the fading 1980’s doing what we called “Biggles”. Named after someone in a Monty Python skit.
A Biggle is basically a quarter gram or more cocaine line. Eh back in the day the recording, film video, and general broadcast industry ran on speed, and coke. Hey it was another era different values gimme a break.
Anyway to prove your insanity one would snort down the whole thing in one quick zap! This to the demented applause of your pals. If you didn’t 'die’ you were rewarded with a vodka martini...extra dry.
Ah I gleefully recall the summer of '83.
What me, and my old pals calls the “Martini Summer”.
One of our TV/radio host comrades whom you’ve heard of, but for legal reasons goes somewhat nameless here was once a bartender in a Madrid dive.
One of our TV/radio host comrades whom you’ve heard of, but for legal reasons goes somewhat nameless here was once a bartender in a Madrid dive.
He remembered his skills well!
Anyway this suicidal “Biggles” thing was the custom among the engineers back then. Yeah I had a terrible drug problem,…I was always running out of the stuff, and it was terrible.
Flash forward near 30/40 years, and all the survivors are basically tea-totalers.
So like I sez now instead of snorting up Peru.
Anyway this suicidal “Biggles” thing was the custom among the engineers back then. Yeah I had a terrible drug problem,…I was always running out of the stuff, and it was terrible.
Flash forward near 30/40 years, and all the survivors are basically tea-totalers.
So like I sez now instead of snorting up Peru.
I attempt chemical-free sleep. I even succeed somewhat.
Nutty dreams though.
Nutty dreams though.
I had a few snorts back around that time and didn't like it. Probably just as well; very expensive stuff. I always wanted to try psychedelics; Aldous Huxley really sold me on that mescaline stuff, I'd love to try that. I've had acid and 'shrooms - didn't like em; they fuck with your head too much. Just a nice visionary experience, that's what I want - and no barfing, like with peyote and ayahuasca. How come I can't have some nice clean mescaline? It really pisses me off.
ReplyDeleteZ
Me I'm just an old fashioned Coke'n Speed freak.
ReplyDeleteGood for all that ails ya. 'Course ya can die real easy on that noise. I did several times. Was awake for my heart stopping on me,...real interesting night that one. But fuck it.
I remember i snorted a whole half gram at one go.
Holy fucking shit that was the sweetest high I ever had in my life. Don't try this with street shit. You will point blank die. That sweet batch was diplomatic pouch stuff...best on fucking earth. Distilled in top'o da line labs for the one percent.
Being in broadcast I had some access to that stuff now'n then.
Street shit is so full of filler, and actual poison. Shit like like roach powder, and worse. Just a few lines will make ya sick. Which is why I stopped when the supply of the real stuff moved on.
I changed over to Chinese food, and chocolate till that diabetes action kicked in. Now like any old fuck I reads the labels on them cans real careful. Oh how the stoned have fallen.
I still want my mescaline. Also, I want to live in Pala. That's Huxley's utopian answer to his own dystopian Brave New World. It's in Island, his final novel. The people get stoned there, in the best possible way, among other good things.
ReplyDeleteZ