I started off with LSD back in 1972. I counted it up and my best estimate was about 60 acid "trips". Smoked pounds of pot, including some of the legendary strains, and several varieties of nice hash. Psilicybin (synthetic mushrooms), Mescalin (peyote buttons), all sorts of amphetamines, barbs, MDA (my favorite!!) and combinations of things - some of which really messed me up. My most memorable experience was the night our bands drummer was leaving the next day and we had him a party. I dropped some psilicybin and we all went to a concert. One of my friends had some good acid so I bought 2 hits. We stayed for about an hour at the concert and left to go to "Rusty's dream house", a place way out in the country. Rusty had the windows painted black and boarded up inside. Everything inside was psychedelic, including numerous black lights. I dropped one of the hits of acid when we got there. Larry, my best friend, and the towns biggest dealer, brought out a bag and started rolling joints, passing them left, then right, then left, etc. There was about 20 of us sitting on the floor in a circle. A couple of head fuckers were singing Zappa and Capt. Beefheart songs. I was sitting directly across from Larry and he kept looking at me, smiling. I didn't "get it" until somebody was handing me a joint on each side, one right after the other. I was soooooooooo fucked up!! For some stupid reason, around midnight I decided to do the other hit of acid. I wanted to get off quickly so I crushed it up, took out a dollar bill and snorted it. Holy shit... within 10 minutes I was out of my mind. The head fucking was getting to me; everything in the room started looking like cartoon characters. I grabbed Larry and another friend and we went outside. I told them I was too messed up and needed to come down. They both had cigarettes and when they flicked their ashes the trails went all the way to the ground and then back up, like a yo-yo. I was also have audio hallucinations; when one of them would talk, then the other, I would hear the first one say the same thing again - echoes! I had never experienced that before. Larry decided that he needed to get me out of Rusty's place so he suggested we go to his girls house. I had my dads Pontiac Bonneville. When I got in and started it up, it was like the fucking space shuttle. I got on the highway and was driving about 15 mph but it seemed like I was doing 100. We got to Larry's girlfriends house and he had to go find the key to get in. Meanwhile I'm standing there by the car, waiting. All of a sudden, Larry's girl's damn man-eating dog comes out, barking his head off at me, acting like he's going to attack me. I was about to shit my pants when he got back and took control of the dog. I remember listening to "DOA" by Bloodrock, several times (and the rest of the album); that was one freaky fucking night.
