5/3/2006
Substance taken: Molotov cocktail
A letter to the Synesthesians
I see the sounds from the speaker run over me in rivulets of gold. I hold my hand in front of my face, and feel thousands of tiny pinpricks on my fingertips.
Streamers of colour trail from my fingers, the trails of some bizarre multi-coloured comets.
And if I open my mouth it tingles with the flavour of sherbet and lemonade fizz pop fizz. So I keep my mouth closed. It is more than I can bear.
The music stops, and in blessed silence the sensations fade and wilt and drip into puddles on the floor.
I am physically exhausted—my soul and body are entwined and one influences the other.
Then track 2 begins, and the feelings wrack me once again until I become only a puddle of orgasmic joy on the floor.
9/2/2006
Substance taken: "Scones"
High Horse, Randy Felcher
Open a bottle of wine. Which one?
They’re all good, and all fit for pigs at the trough. Have a foot full of tasty juice, fermented into sour mash filth.
On your high horse, Randy Felcher. Mother fucker making comments like the king of the world. I come and go and spend money where I like.
What video will I spend my free voucher on? Three days to use it, the cheek, pansy handsy fuckers think I’ll fall for that suck line. I’ll still use their voucher though.
Push it on the way home, up the hill or over, I’m faster than you bitch, hurry up, hurry up. Life in the fast mane, lion blowing in the wind, acid slobber dissolving the other road users. Wildebeest and hyena—I’ll take them on, even the old tin box guy who can’t maintain control (or an erection) when he’s going over eighty.
Will we see Angelina play for us tonight? Hopefully she delivers on her promise. I heard bad reviews, I heard some not so bad. Who can tell? No one likes anything anyway. Blow off.
27/1/2006
Substance taken: Genetically modified scrambled eggs
The Other Side of Life
I have seen what’s on the other side of Life. And it wasn’t a dream, as three of my friends saw it too.
We were sitting on the lounge floor, just finishing up our sixth or seventh (or was it eighth?) bucket bong, when suddenly we were surrounded by what felt like a blanket. It was warm and soft anyway. The next thing I knew, I was standing in a different room, along with my three friends, in a place I had never been before.
A naked woman stood over a sink, vomiting. Somehow, I knew she was Life, and that we had been expelled from her like gas.
A man appeared then from behind us and started having sex with her. He was Sin, I could tell, and not just a single sin or the bible sins or the seven. He was all sins, fucking Life.
Greed was most obvious on his face, but they were all there, if you looked.
7/1/2006
Substance taken: Unknown
Pudding Versus Cake: The Endless War
We’ll have cake all week, now that the Great Puddings have been defeated.
They kept cake humble, with none baked except for special occasions—of which there were none. So we banded together and threw the Puddings back into the mixing bowl from whence they came, spat on their carcass and fed it to the cat.
The cat is now dead.