| Received this mail today from my best friend who is currently travelling around Asia. I turned down the offer to travel with him, opting instead for a harsh year in college studying crap I will never use in the real world.
More fool me.
Dear Friends,
After years of failed experiments, much smoking,
burning, boshing, jacking, gurning and a fervent
round-the-clock anti-monkey neighbourhood watch, after
all the tears and frustration, I have found the new
high i have been looking for. My search has taken
years off my life, but as I sat in the villa with brit
and mcnu smoking bongs and watching "Don't tell her
its me"; as I brewed up another waterfall with Kroon,
wondering could this man be more of an asshole?; as I
listened to El Stoat wax lyrical about the new
universe he had created, where MDMA had replaced
carbon as the source of stuff; as I stumbled round a
field in Gloucestershire boshing duds , I knew in my
heart (and indeed in my soul) that it had to be better
than this, that somewhere out there was the ultimate
high, the holy grail of getting loaded. Prescription
drugs, my friends. Cheap, legal and they'll give any
old drunken loon a bag full of them on the slightest
pretext. I found myself in a 24hour bar in Phnom Penh
yesterday morning, alone, and loaded. Gallagher had
been kidnapped by gun toting cardsharps, Burnsy was
off getting a gam from some slut mate of mcnallys we
had the misfortune to run into. I ventured into about
thirty chemists, staggering like a fool, asking could
I get some ketamine. Finally, down some back alley in
the shadiest, dirtiest two bit drugstore I could find,
some quack offered me some. At 6 dollars. Injected. In
my ass. I turned down his kind offer, but he insisted
I stay, saying he had something else for me. He
reappaeraed from the "dispensary" with a large bag of
Rohypnol. Ideal, I felt. I have waited all my life
for someone to spike my drink, and now I could spike
my own. And it woul provide a new and interesting
complement to the truckloads of Diazepan I have been
boshing since I got to this accursed continent. So i
hot footed it back to the hotel bar gave the lads the
good news ordered a "happy" pizza and some morer
neers, boshed three of those bad boys, slurred and
twitched like only a badger can for about an hour and
went out like a light. Fantastic. I laugh scornfully
at your pills, bite my thumb at your cocaine, and jeer
heartily at your heroin. I am off now to find some
benzedrine.
Your friend,
Boogemont.
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