I asked this question to a friend of mine, "ChiBo", today - this was his somewhat beautiful if excruciating response.
After spending a few hours at a house party and dancing the night away with cheery sentiments and vague musings on champagne vs. beer, I was pulled aside by a guy with a wild look in his eyes "DO YOU WANT A LINE?" he asked, "Um... yeah sure" I replied. He then went about racking up a line that was about the length and width of a pencil... After injesting this devilish powderous substance, I noticed a bitterness in the back of my throat "um . . what exactly is that?" I asked "ITS KETAMINAAA" said the wild eyed gentlemen "YOU ONLY SPOSED TO DO A LITTLE" he advised. I then knew that I had 1 or 2 choices: I could a) lie down on the floor and ask for my guardian angel to stroke my hair and cradle my soon to be vegitated state until it was daytime, or I could b) crawl on my hands and knees to the kingdom of bathroom and offer my soul to the toilet. The result was a mixture of the two, I navigated my way to the toilet through misty head and confused eyes and planted myself firmly in the bathroom, I can then remember somebody coming in and playing the harmonica for what seemed like 4 hours until I was "normal" again. I still to this time never found out if that person was actually at the party...
After spending a few hours at a house party and dancing the night away with cheery sentiments and vague musings on champagne vs. beer, I was pulled aside by a guy with a wild look in his eyes "DO YOU WANT A LINE?" he asked, "Um... yeah sure" I replied. He then went about racking up a line that was about the length and width of a pencil... After injesting this devilish powderous substance, I noticed a bitterness in the back of my throat "um . . what exactly is that?" I asked "ITS KETAMINAAA" said the wild eyed gentlemen "YOU ONLY SPOSED TO DO A LITTLE" he advised. I then knew that I had 1 or 2 choices: I could a) lie down on the floor and ask for my guardian angel to stroke my hair and cradle my soon to be vegitated state until it was daytime, or I could b) crawl on my hands and knees to the kingdom of bathroom and offer my soul to the toilet. The result was a mixture of the two, I navigated my way to the toilet through misty head and confused eyes and planted myself firmly in the bathroom, I can then remember somebody coming in and playing the harmonica for what seemed like 4 hours until I was "normal" again. I still to this time never found out if that person was actually at the party...
