7 Things Not To Do On Acid

Watch Porn

I’m no lightweight; I’ll watch as much porn as I have to. I don’t shy away from these things. If it needs watching I’ll do it and I’ll see it through. However, with enough acid in your system, different parts of the body seem so much larger or smaller; heads look like shrunken walnuts and the ass – the ass becomes overwhelming and sometimes it’s all ass, huge asses.

At this point you hit pause and watch an infomercial for a juice extractor and smoke cigarettes. You wait ‘til you settle down a bit then you go back to porn and then you’re confused. The lines blur; are you watching an infomercial for a juice extractor or two Japanese girls going 69 on each other? I don’t care – I want juice. I want sushi. My need for Japanese things is intense.

Open A Coconut

This needs no explanation. You take a hammer and belt away at the coconut until it cracks open. Then the pleasure of hitting a coconut with a hammer hits you and you just keep bashing at the coconut until all that is left is a bloody white juicy pulp littered with hairy brown fragments of shell. You imagine the bodies of innocent children in waterlogged craters made by falling bombs then drop to your knees weeping. You smash the hammer on the floor; it connects with the concrete that lies beneath the lino. You can feel the vibration of the hammer strike and the frequency is telling me something – if only I understood. I scoop handfuls of smashed coconut off the linoleum and into my mouth.

Dial A Pizza

What was I thinking? I’m on acid; I have no appetite. The idea of pizza is good, but I don’t want to eat, I want a purely abstract pizza – a platonic ideal of a pizza. Dominos does not deliver platonic ideals. Then the doorbell rings and you know you have to deal with the delivery guys and you become frightened. You are naked and covered with coconut and he’s right there with his stuffed crust and his crisp blue and red uniform waiting for you. You tell yourself to put on a towel and deal with it like an adult.

Shave

The need to shave becomes overwhelming; you are covered in hair and it has to go. You cover your face with shaving foam and it smells like a lime fruit salad. It feels luxurious. You put down the shaver and spray shaving foam all over your chest, then your arms, then all over you body and it feels like you are a cake. You imagine cake. You are now naked, covered in shaving foam and coconut pulp and have a pizza but you really want cake. You decide to eat cake.

Buy Sara Lee Frozen Desserts From A Convenience Store

You decide that it is best not to wipe off the shaving foam that covers you. Right now you are in perfect balance with the world and any changes would destroy that fragile balance. You throw a Hawaiian shirt over your shaving foam drenched body then head out for Sara Lee. But it seems to take forever to get there. It’s only 50 metres, but for every metre you walk, the convenience store recedes a metre further into the distance.

Danny, the clerk at the store, knows you; he’s seen you like this before. No questions are asked. He looks twice at the hammer you have in your hand, but otherwise all is just fine. You smell delicious. You crave a big fruity taste now. You buy lime cordial and Jolly Ranchers instead.

On the walk home you realise that the shaving foam has made your Hawaiian shirt stick to your body like it was wet. I can feel the cool breeze of the night air. The evening is majestic.

Find Your Cat

You arrive home and you can hear your cat meowing. Cats are so lovely. I just want to hold a cat, I know that if I can hold my cat I will be ok, I know it will be soft and warm and I’ll just hold it tight and it will be lovely. I call for the cat. It stops meowing. I go in search of the cat.

I head to the back room and find Jack and Sarah. They are eating my pizza. I can smell pizza. I feel like I need to explain why I’m covered in coconut pulp and shaving foam and clutching a hammer and need to find my cat, but I don’t; something tells me that they understand. The cat is not in the back room. They are listening to Bob Dylan and this is why I know I don’t need to explain. They understand everything; they have pizza and nothing is said. I exit the room without saying a word.

The cat is hiding from me. The cat is wise beyond its years. Cats are wise, they understand the many dimensions of the multi-verse and they can travel through time and space in their dreams. I realise just how good Veronica’s acid really is.

I know that my cat, the one in the future, can see me. I send nothing but pure love through the time vortex that connects me to my future cat using the vibrations caused by my striking the hammer on the floor in the kitchen.

I head back to Jack and Sarah to tell them the good news about the cat and the time vortex and how it’s all going to be just fine. This proves to be somewhat of a mistake.

And I have this mental picture of the moment; I am on my hands and knees hitting the hammer on the floor in front of Sarah, covered in shaving foam and coconut and spilled lime cordial wearing a Hawaiian shirt screaming things at her about the cat and the time vortex and how she really need to listen to the hammer. It is not a pleasant moment for Sarah.

It is now three days since the event. Jack and Sarah have explained to me that it’s their names on the lease and that I really should find a new place to live that better suits my lifestyle choices. All of which confirms for me the belief that this list – this list of things you should not do on acid – comes to you with some authority.

I have still not found the cat.