Pill-slags and Gladrags
In times past it was not uncommon for my acquaintances and I to dabble in various forms of substance abuse.
On one fine summer's evening I was enjoying some delightful MDMA action at the home of a particular friends parents.

All was going swimmingly well until I decided that the best way to wash down the latest tablet would be with half a pint of neat vodka. This was fine. I normally did this sort of thing. After receiving the customary looks of disdain at this vile behaviour I resumed pretending to be a Swedish lesbian with my friend Tom; a double act of sorts albeit without any actual physical interaction.

Turning to my mate Miff, I opened my mouth to speak to him and .... BANG .... Darkness.

Then.. all of a sudden - I'm coming round... people are shouting... no, one voice is shouting.. shouting *my* name.

'Matt! Matt! What the fuck are you doing? Jesus!'

Opening my eyes I discover myself to be lying in Miff's mother's bed. The uncomfortable, damp sensation I vaguely felt earlier has manifested itself as a rather fetching and yet soaking wet floral ladies dress which I appear to be wearing. Miff's mother's dress. All of my own clothes are nowhere to be seen. This includes my underwear.

To this very day I have no idea what happened to me. Apparently everyone had decided to migrate to another room in the house, misplacing me in the process. When they came to find me an undetermined amount of time later I was doing a good impression of a middle aged woman having a nice lie down after having been violently pissed on from head to toe by a rather high-capacity yak.

Didn't stop me from boshing another few and terrorising the local shop at 7am (still elegantly attired in sopping Sunday best).

Meh.
( squirrels emit silent screams has updog, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 12:39, Reply)