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When it's 2Many DJs and it's been advertised on the escalators on the Underground... The queue was about 500m long - all the way roung the block and 3 or 4 people wide.Drunk and a bit bored I invited everyone back to mine to take drugs and listen to music. By the time they'd left I had given away 3 pairs of socks, 12 pills, had 4 myself and got the eye-shakes as bad as I've ever had them in my life. Fortunately I was able to field her pointless and stupid questions and inane chatter without even once telling her to SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME DIE!However, it was already clear that something larger was wrong. On Wednesday I lost about 10 minutes work when my computer crashed and I was flooded with a white-hot searing fury and wanted to throw my monitors out the window.But before I get to the problem, I want to briefly address the hell that was the subsequent week. Actually, it would've been more like the window as they're both flatpanels and the windows in my office are reinforced bomb-proof glass, but I wanted to destroy.During my teenage years I'd sit around with my friends and drink, or smoke hash, and often not do a whole lot more.I never developed a physiological dependence on any of the drugs I took, even cigarettes, which I count as a blessing.Some of my finest software moments coalesced out of the smoke!
On Wednesday night, the drugs worked well; the conversation varied between interesting and hysterical, and clichéd as it may be, a good time was had by all. Alcohol on Wednesday was fine, but alcohol on Friday wasn't, especially not with a load of pills to chase it.Well, the problem - and it's one I'd been vaguely aware of for a while but hadn't really grasped - was that doing drugs for the sake of it just isn't that fun any more.On Friday night I was there for the sake of it; I didn't actually want to go, but found myself stepping out of the office and going anyway. My very old friend C from Bristol has recently given up smoking draw after what's probably knocking on 8 years of being nearly permanently stoned.I can't begin to describe the anger that flowed from such a tiny misfortune, but if you will, please try to imagine that you've just cut yourself while doing something unnecessary and doing it badly.As you start to kick yourself, someone comes up to you, pisses on your trousers, slaps you in the face, calls you an arsehole and walks off with your girlfriend, who flashes her tits at you and leers as she leaves. I couldn't face another empty evening and sweaty sheet-wrapped night so on Wednesday evening I took steps and met up with the Tokyo crew and got pretty sloshed in a pub, which was enormous fun with beer and banter flowing in about equal amounts.