The best things in life

Anyone who knows me will know that my attitude to drugs is fairly complex: being experiential, philosophical, physiological and occasionally spiritual in nature. Cynically you could say it was all a load of rationalizing after-the-fact with some faux-shamanistic gobbledeegook thrown in, but that position is for cowards and losers who dress funny.
However, it can all be summed up by: Drugs are sometimes bad, m’kay?
Take, ooh, last Saturday for instance. Sure I was dressed as a saguaro cactus and, it being my sister’s place, I could get away with more borderline behaviour than otherwise, but none of this excuses the mistake I made that when offered drugs I opted for the ‘one of each’ plan.
I believe it is one of those plans where you enjoy now and pay later.
For all the kiddies listening here are some interesting tips: Generally speaking only take one recreational drug at a time. If your rec. drug of choice is alcohol and you have already embarked on the plan to get more than tipsy, it is a bad idea to take any other drug. A small amount of alcohol is probably alright. Ecstasy is cut with Speed. How much Speed versus Ecstasy there is will depend on how cheap-arse the maker was since Speed is cheaper than Ecstasy. Alcohol, to a large extent, negates the effects of Ecstasy. Smoking marijuana in conjunction with any other drug is generally a bad idea.
I consider Tequila to be a separate rec. drug in it’s own right – and you should too. If you plan to function the next day DO NOT mix any of the above or indeed all of the above (as, you with have gathered, I did). Speed and alcohol will make you more ‘you’ than you have ever been before, but so will Tequila, so maybe they reinforce each other. Speed makes you grind your teeth such that brushing the next evening may be a physically painful.
Proviso: Tequila body-shots are generally always a good idea. This is because you get to lick other people on the neck and they lick yours, and then get the lemon from their teeth. Okay, maybe I’m biased because on my left was an English babe called Nirvana, who sometime afterwards politely chastised me for kissing her on the cheek saying ‘I know what you were up to!’ [She didn’t. And I wasn’t about to tell her that I had a fleeting fancy that she was some sort of Earth and Fire Goddess of the Old World and that it would be cool to kiss one. In my defence I would like to submit the following: dark skin, flames, eyes that were hhwrhe! Hair that was all hhggrrgh. And a mouth that was hrrgge! And a voice that was Ggrhrhjeh!!; and, finally, I was on drugs. But she has invited me to her party in two weeks time, so I count it as a Great Victory.] and on my right a smiling cool woman called Sarah who was shiny and positive and was extraordinarily reminiscent of Lord Mattress Hammer’s mum.
Now, before you go jumping to conclusions about how I think Mumsy (as we call her) is a MILF; or are reading this saying ‘But I thought harry was turned gay by Liam Hogan’s gay friendly posts?’; and 'surely harry isn't sanctioning drugs as 'the best things in life'?!' let me explain.
Women rock.
And cool women, doubly so.