Maniacal Musings For a Society Gone Over the Edge

Don’t Trip and Drive and Other Tales of Hallucinogenic Hilarity

I’m no stranger to the psychedelic experience, and having plunged into the canyons of my mind, I feel it is my duty to impart a wee note of caution to anyone who may be dabbling, or is even considering dabbling in hallucinogens. If you’re going to trip out, DON’T DRIVE. I’m speaking from personal experience here, kids, trust me. I used to own a cucumber green ’77 Chevy Impala, and the thing was a veritable tank, I could’ve cruised the streets of Fallujah in perfect safety with that beast. Fuck hum-vees General, get our men and women in uniform some of these puppies!Anyway, one night in Michigan a number of years ago my friends and I dropped some acid, then we smoked a little weed as a precursor to the trip (as you do), and we topped it all off with a few beers. Then, as we started coming up on the acid, we decided that now would be the perfect time to go for a little drive. A Bill and Ted moment!!! So we climbed inside my pickle mobile and took off into the night, and everything was going just peachy until we hit the highway, because the highway runs alongside Detroit Metro Airport, and as soon as I caught sight of all those giant fire flys taking off and landing, I became an immediate danger to myself and others. But the kicker came a few seconds later when a police helicopter shined its spotlight on my car, because I thought it was a fuckin’ U.F.O!

“Holy motherfuckin’ shit, you guys – ALIENS!!!”

As I sat behind the wheel of a speeding vehicle looking up at the sky…hoping to catch a glimpse of some intergalactic space people waving at me from their magical mystery ship.

Luckily this idiotic insanity only lasted about 30 seconds before my friends got nervous… well, nervous is a tad too mild of a term to describe it, it was more along the lines of, “Jesus fucking Christ, Joe! Pull over the fuckin’ car and let Larry drive before you kill us all, you dangerous, drug-addled dipshit!!!” So you see, the psychedelic experience has it’s fair share of perils.

Getting drunk before tripping is another one. I used to frequent an alternative night club in Dublin called Fibber MaGees, and one fine night I went ahead of my friends so I wouldn’t have to pay the cover charge. I had several hours to kill, so I immediately began drinking-A LOT! At some point I bought 2 hits of acid, which was a horrible idea, because I was so shit-faced that I immediately forgot I had taken it! About an hour and a half later a situation developed that could only happen on hallucinogenic drugs: I was sitting on a bench, drunk as hell, wondering why the walls were breathing, when suddenly a gaggle of goths sat down on the bench in front of me. At first I thought they were just your average, every-day goths, because they all had the dyed-black hair, the black nail polish and the black clothing, but then as I looked a little closer I noticed their crazy eyes… yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen, seated directly before me was a group of goth albinos ! And watching those crazy pink eyes dart around their heads like coked-up humming birds caused me to totally freak out! My reaction went something like this:


And that’s when one of my buddies came along and asked me if I was alright, and all I could do was stare at the albinos and go


Because albinos are a fucking trip without taking any drugs. You don’t have to be stoned to realize that albinos are a strange phenomenon. Seriously, anytime anyone ever sees an albino they’re secretly thinking to themselves, “God, that’s some weird fuckin’ shit…”

They always say that Roy Orbison was an albino and that he dyed his hair black and wore sunglasses to hide the fact. Sometimes I wonder how different the world would be today if Roy Orbison had been normal and Frank Sinatra had been the albino. Just think, we’d be referring to Old Pink Eyes right now. There’s a bizarre thought for ya. Imagine how differently people would have reacted to him; “Wow, that freak can really croon…listen to the voice on that thing ! Boy, he sure is a weird looking fuck though, isn’t he? I wouldn’t invite him into my home, but he’s got a voice like a velvety-throated angel.” Old Pink Eyes… and he’d be joined onstage by albino versions of Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. Of course, they wouldn’t have been called The Rat Pack if that was the case. They would have had to settle for the less sophisticated title of The 3 Blind Mice, as they stumbled around the stage squinting while searching for their smokes.



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