Portrait of the Derelict as a not so Young Man Vol. 2

Michael Stipe once said that if you believe, they put a man on the moon, and of course i believe cuz i've been the fucking guy on the moon on more than a few occasions in my illustrious past, see i've often been a proponent of better living through chemistry, i've got the utmost respect for those scientific types, the people out there solving problems and curing cancer and making acid and strange designer drugs, of course i've never been big on those designer drugs but what the hell i'm sure if it wasn't for the curiosity of the scientific mind man never would have created beer, which brings us to this little tale about synthetic THC...

Of course you may be wondering, why in the hell would you need synthetic THC? and i of course would agree with you why? seems to me that the real stuff does the trick just fine and good ole' mother earth with the help of a few scientists has pretty much perfected this wonderful little chemical compound over the past million years or what have you but you know onwards and upwards as they say, so one day a friend of mine handed me a little vial of whitish powder and said, "next time you get some average shit, sprinkle a little of this on it and you'll be good to go."  Now one must remember my trials and tribulations with a certain angelic dust that i'd had in my younger days and i quizzed my friend on the exact substance he was handing me and he of course assured me that it was nothing of the sort, basically it was a way to get higher off shitty weed or even higher off quality smoke and i said gracias and was on my way...

Now over the next week or so i tried out this little powder on various grades of herb and found that it did do exactly what he said it would do cuz hell, i'm a bit of a scientist myself now ain't i, of course i stuck to the directions i'd been given and sprinkled a tiny bit on each time and was happily on my way... then one fine friday night i was having one of those days and was trying to get out of the house to have a few bevy's so i put the boyos to bed and headed down to the basement, needless to say it had been a frustrating day at work and home and as i pulled out the little vial to sprinkle on my pre-bevy smoke i looked in the mirror at my graying beard and said, "fuck these bubble gummers, i'm the fucking King of North Oakland, i can handle my shit better than anyone i've ever met and tonight i'm going all in on this hand" and so i proceeded to put about five times the normal amount on my little appetizer and smoked away...

Now i should preface this by saying the appetizer i was enhancing was not your daddy's smoke, it was locally grown organic high test, a strain of which is named after the Aurora Borealis, good shit that really needed no enhancing but sometimes i'm like fucking Major Tom, you know like fuck it ground control i'm gonna step through this door and see if i can make the grade, and so i took a few tokes and then a few more and headed up the steps, i realized i forgot something and headed up to the second floor and by the time i figured out what i had come up for my heart was racing and my vision was skewed and as i attempted to go back down the steps i had to hold onto the rail cuz it felt as if my legs were going to give out...

Downstairs the girl was laying on the couch and watching some crap telly and i began pacing and taking deep breaths and finally i sat down on the couch and wondered what the fuck was going on, she looked at me and then back at the telly and asked "are you going out?" and i kind of stammered and said i don't know i might need to sit here for a few minutes and get my shit together, she was like okay and paid me no mind and i sat on the couch about ready to crawl out of my skin, i walked into the kitchen and ran the tap, dousing my face with water, i took a sip and walked back to the couch and sat down, pretty much so fucked up i didn't know whether to shit or chew bubble gum, now remember the girl has known me long enough to know that i could have done any number of idiotic things and she would just shrug it off and laugh at my stupidity, i then blurted out that i needed her to talk to me and she, who was always telling me we needed to talk more sighed and said "i just need to relax, are you alright?", to which i replied "well i'm kinda fucked up, see i took sprinkled this powder on my dope and i'm starting to think it was dust or something, though i did put like three or four times the recommended dose and now i think i'm having a panic attack or a heart attack or i don't know what but it helps me if you talk to me you know sweetheart, how you always want to talk and shit", she turned to look at me, cocked her head and said, "you'll be alright just watch the show"...

What the fuck? oh i love you too dear, one of the few times i actually need a conversation and she's clamming up, i'm on the couch gurning and fidgeting like a spastic and she's watching Guiding fucking Light and ignoring the poor guy who's losing his mind, so i began walking from room to room and splashing more water on my face and generally trying, in my own head, to talk myself down, i'd stop and sit on the couch and then start the process over thinking that maybe a half an hour had gone by and then i'd see the clock and realize not more than five minutes had elapsed, a commercial comes on and she asks me "do you want to go to the hospital?" and i'm like fuck no besides i'd have to walk cuz someone has to stay with the boyos and like what the fuck am i gonna tell them anyway, that i smoked some non-descript white powder that was supposed to enhance the weed, just saying it now makes me sound like a fucking imbecile, i paused for a second and tried to watch some Guiding Light then said, i'll be okay but if i pass out call an ambulance and tell them that i just came in from the bar and that i think someone slipped me something, i don't want them to know i did this on my own dammit, to which she laughed and said "i'll make sure to tell them",  i replied that i was glad she thought this whole episode was amusing cuz i'm losing my fucking mind and for the first time in my life i think i want to come down, i want it to stop and the whole space time continuum on the soap opera is fucked up, she rolled back towards the telly and laughed...

So here i was on my own and losing my mind, thinking i was having a heart attack and wishing for the clock to move just a little faster when i had an epiphany, i figured that if i could get a hard-on then everything would be alright, cuz how many guys having heart attacks can get an erection? right? i mean i didn't have time to really think about the science of it i just knew that if i could sport some wood things would be okay, by this time about two hours had elapsed and the girl had gone upstairs and gone to bed and i paced back and forth and with nothing other than my imagination i produced a glorious fucking boner, i don't think i was ever happier to have a hard-on then i was right at that moment, that boner meant i was going to live dammit, i was going to live!!! i danced around  the living room as if i had just won the lottery,  the almighty boner had saved the day,  i started making jokes about it, inserting various names for erections into song titles, movie titles, book titles, i was going to be okay, it was then that i decided not to waste that boner and rubbed one out in record time, cuz this boner was mine, not to be shared with anyone but me, i laughed thinking of what a fool i'd been and then came that faint flickering of idiocy, i thought to myself, you know that whole experience wasn't that bad, maybe i'll try it again, yeah i'm that stupid... for the record though i tossed that vial in the garbage the next day, singing, last night a boner saved my life...