The following story needs an introduction. It is probably the single worst experience I have/will have ever lived. Oh just read it...

The night began on a weekday at a local club where the average person had either the advanced stages of osteoporosis or a hip replacement. My table was probably the youngest there by at least a century. The reason we were at such a place is at the time I was wrestling with agoraphobia and it's also fun to act up in front of old people.

I was there with 2 friends who we'll call Stain and TFinn. We went to the bar and each ordered the cheapest and deadliest thing on the menu, from the onset the idea was to be maggotted as cheaply and quickly as possible. It quickly looked like turning into a "last one to 0.15 is a nancy boy competition", utilizing the breathalyser in the corner of the room ... and I was not to be outdone.

Downing a few aviation fuel and cokes I was distracted by the thought that the chances of someone dying in this very place tonight were incredibly high.

TFinn as usual returned from the bar with a round of what looked like triple metho and lime juice in a bucket. The conversation flowed nicely till Stain and I freak out. TFinn was sitting there holding his glass shaking like a tree in a category 4 cyclone. Knowing full well that TFinn was an epileptic we felt it our mandatory moral duty to look after him. Believe it or not I dislike most people and those few that I like, I am very loyal to... so I did what any friend would do - I suggested he go the the bar and get another.

The 2nd time he returned with a double Jack and Coke. Things seemed to be peachy until TFinn's 2nd tremor arrived. He sat their and shook as Stain and I looked on dumbfounded and slightly shitscared. He must gave been clenching soo hard they the glass literally crushed in his hand.

Stain and I said something like "Holy shit dude, we have to leave.. by car or ambulance or something." TFinn piped back with "Holy Shit!..... that was a $14 dollar bourbon.

TFinn is not one to back down from a drinking challenge, despite my best efforts he convinced me that the best thing for him to do was to continue drinking... like only he knows how. TFinn is a perfect role model for the youth of today. He preaches the importance of reckless drinking, narcotics, getting home no earlier than the next morning and strict liver exercises utilizing Bundaberg Rum.

Somehow we get home at about 1am and Stain calls it an evening. TFinn and I retreat to my downstairs padded music room/bomb shelter. He is ready to party on yet I am apprehensive. We down a few cheap ports and TFinn produces a small package from his pocket. With a giant grin he hands me what is nothing less than 3 giants buds of Marijuana. This is no ordinary mara juana, it is green except for almost fluro orange patches which clearly state "I have been chemically altered by a team of crazed russian scientists.

I had not smoked for at least 2-3 months vowing that the last time I did it was actually the last time. It's amazing how constant mara juana abuse can make you as motivated as a pig in it's own shit. I had goals that needed achieving, plus I was getting a "stoner reputation" which was less than glamorous. I also added to the argument that TFinn had nearly died earlier and that this would surely send him death spiraling towards hell.

Somehow after what seemed like hours of debate, TFinn convinced me that it was the only decision. I concluded that if this was to be the last time ever... then I'd go out with a bang. I packed up 2 giants cones of this deadly con concoction with full intentions to have another in the next few minutes.

It hit me like a tsunami and TFinn was equally "fucked in half." I played a few songs on the guitar and TFinn looked at me like I was Jimmi Hendrix. I soon became too intoxicated to even move my fingers let alone comprehend what I was playing. The guitar also gave the distinct impression that it was not a guitar, only a large salmon. From that moment things went predictably down hill.

TFinn went out for a smoke and I writhed around on the couch trying to hold my head from jumping off my neck. I also distinctly remember feeling that I wanted to die and that my head was throbbing and my stomach felt like it was eating itself alive. The room was spinning and I suspected that something was seriously wrong with the mara juana

The next few events are slightly blurry. Somehow I lost the time between me being inside, to me being outside with TFinn laying on the ground. TFinn was lying on the ground very much out of focus but was clearing having, or just had an epileptic fit. I remember him telling me that after he has a seizure he will sleep for 20 min's then be ok. So I darted upstairs and fetched a quilt. I was living with my parents at the time and luckily they didn't wake as I had no idea how to explain why TFinn was sleeping with a quilt on the concrete and dirt outside. I can't remember if I got a pillow but I don't think so.

I raced back downstairs and covered him over and inspected his surroundings for dangerous implements/ evidence of him vomiting or bleeding. What I did find was a piece of concrete that he had chipped off a pole with his head... I think he was bleeding slightly. The bleeding was minor and I sat on the stairs beside him waiting for him to sleep it off.

From that moment, I took a turn for the worst. What can only be described as mass paranoia took control of me. I heard voices talking, animals howling and felt people touching me on the shoulder. It was dark and the vegetation was thick, both of which added to my paranoia.

Sitting there looking at TFinn, I had visions of him rolling over and lashing out at me, the next day I realized that nothing like that happened as he said he just slept there the whole time.

The shock of TFinn's immediate danger almost sobered me up enough to be slightly helpful, but I was mostly completely incapacitated and TFinn would have received more assistance from the dirt he was laying in. As he was sleeping I returned back to my previous state of complete near death-ness.

To this day I am not sure what to believe about how we got into our beds and woke the next morning. Chances are TFinn DID sleep it off and managed to carry us both to bed. Either way.. the morning came and I was certain that I'd carry schizophrenic scarring for the rest of my life.. and to an extent I do.. but I vowed never to smoke again... and haven't since. TFinn takes it a little lighter than I but there was a good chance that he could have died and all I would be able to do is tell the police that their swirly lights looked pretty.

I sat there half awake and half drunk/stoned wondering what could have possibly been worse about the evening, and TFinn sat there thinking something like "so... what are we doing next weekend?" He is a machine.

That concludes the worst experience of my life. I continue to party hard with TFinn and nothing like that has ever happened again... and THANK FUCK FOR THAT!

Comments? Email me