OK, I'll break the ice this morning:
What's the thing that sticks out in your mind the most when I was messed up (under the influence of something)? Be honest. It doesn't bother me. I just can't see the world through the eyes of all y'all. And I think the responses might be interesting. Be as detailed as you need to be, be honest and Kiche, don't mention me trying to scratch on the turntables...lol. I'll never forget that. Have fun.
brandon [email] said at 11:40 AM 01-30-2003: This one time, you held my hand, and heated a pot of warm Chocolate. It was late January and your cold, gray eyes reflected the blasted landscape outside. I wept, but you comforted me in your ageless embrace.
You ruined me that day, you ruined me for everyone else. Everyone to come after. But now, you are betrothed to another, and I, I am alone, alone with my chocolate ladel and my spleen.
milky [email] said at 11:43 AM 01-30-2003: Dude, before you left, I wanted to take you on an atom smasher. I still regret not hooking that up. That would've been a very fun experience.
milky [email] said at 2:47 PM 01-30-2003: What's funny, woody, is that the stuff I used to get tossed on is...well, you can buy it over the counter in Canada. It's prescription only here, as it IS a narcotic. Every day, new teens get a bottle from a store in Canada and are introduced to my past life.
Funny, ain't it? I'd never give up my free speech for narcotics, but apparently Canada has its priorities in order.
Woody said at 2:54 PM 01-31-2003: I really can't say how these things get classified. We are certainly less strict about drugs. I guess to answer your question, we'd rather let people do things to themselves than let them say things that cause pain for many others.
Incidentally, I don't agree with most applications of our "hate speech laws"...
Joey said at 12:08 PM 01-30-2003: ONE THING!!?? Just One??
Hmmm.... I couldn't possibly, here's a list:
I remember how fucked up you looked when you weren't fucked up. The peculiar way you looked around the room, as if something wasn't quite right, when you system was lacking in the proper dosage of over the counter prescriptions.
I remember the way you could finish a bottle of cough syrup without the use of your hands.
I remember packs of cigarettes, a bottle of scotch, and an unending night of studying for the final that only took 15 minutes.
DJing sets with you at the ungodliest of hours.
DJing sets at the ungodliest of hours while you were passed out on the floor.
DJing the Spanish moon that night when all the hosts took turns... that was cool.
I remember the first time I met you... you had the laptop and a new AIR CD with the video on it. We watched it, I was introduced to AIR, and I began my quest to figure you out.
I think my most prominenet memory is/was more of a constant thought than anything else:
"Man, Milk is fucked up beyond belief again. He might be able to function, but I hope he's able to tone this down eventually because he's one of the most interesting and intelligent people I know."
I'm going to stop here... after typing that last bit I feel like I should have worn knee pads while typing it.
mary [email] said at 1:42 PM 01-30-2003: I used to have to wait on your sorry, fucked-up ass at Louie's at 3 a.m. Which often meant a walk-out on the check and broken dishes.
Sometimes, I wanted to break the dishes
over your head pre-emptively. But I would count to 10 and say to myself, "He's friends with Skoog and Tom. He's a nice guy, who's just got issues. I promised them I wouldn't kill him."
milky [email] said at 1:45 PM 01-30-2003: I know Kiche's door was a particularly BAD scene. I got, well, numbed one night and broke his dorm door.
Other times I can remember are:
Creeping on the filthy concrete floor of the Bayou looking for dropped contraband. (Multiple items and YES, I ingested them).
Showing up for my first set at KLSU and Hans having to drop a DAT on for me (the night before, he had to drive because I kept blacking out behind the wheel).
At Gary, Jared and Ben's...and me asking Ben "How can you live here at this high-powered blotter circus?" I think he shrugged. That guy can live anywhere. That apartment was a zoo.
Me laughing off something as "lightweight fluff" after the act and promptly loosing my balance and falling to the floor. Hit me like frieght train, that stuff.
Every odd social situation where "exchanges" were as common as bumming smokes.
anotherben... said at 2:04 PM 01-30-2003: gary didnt really live there. he did kill my iguanna though...making it slightly less of a zoo. when the both of you showed up i would sometimes escape out my window.
Emmaliegh said at 1:51 PM 01-30-2003: once you were stumbling around Kirby_Smith's lobby eating cold peas out of a can w/ your hands...and they weren't Lesueur's!!!!!
milky [email] said at 5:21 PM 01-30-2003: It was xmx's reference to Vicodin in another post that sparked this post.
'Sides, I figure some people _still_ have some stories. Kiche probably has about a million, Adam just as many...
Josh videotaped me upon my request when I was whacked outta my mind...i was trying to video a love letter (the average user can't comprehend how bad of an idea that is). Bendependent can probably give you a written acount of how many times he told me "no, I don't have anything," as well as countless other people on killoggs.
I thought it was time I talked about the whole experience.
Baby Duck said at 5:39 PM 01-30-2003: I have had several friends stumble down this dark path and come back. And I was always somehow, someway, simply not there when it happened, no matter how long the duration. Always heard about it after the fact. There is one very noteable exception, but still, it amazes me.
I must have Buzz Kill written on my forehead.
It's odd that you post this today, Milky. Because I had this revelation this very morning, thinking about the noteable exception. And I hadn't thought of that part of his life in a long time. Like it was a bad dream that didn't really happen.
