Never do shrooms or LSD

Today’s daily prompt is to share a “second-hand story” that happened recently. Many of my/our friends are excellent story-tellers, crafting hilarious mini TED talks out of the most mundane of occurrences. For whatever reason, this (very old, very unimportant and irrelevant) story kept on popping up during my prompt-pondering sessions today. So, I will share it.

I had two friends in college (about a decade ago… yeesh!) that were intensely creative and unattainably brilliant. These men were absolute best friends with each other (platonically), and lovely (platonic) “fringe” friends of mine. ANYWAYS. One of these geniuses was a music major and was composing pieces that were super-famous (honestly I didn’t really pay attention, but it sounded like a big deal at the time), and the other was a hot-shot in the Econ department but was an incredible writer and had successfully published prose in some national publications. Basically, they were undergrad gods.

They also adored experimenting with drugs. Somehow, they were able to hold down impressive internships, preside over college clubs, and dazzle professors with their genius all while nursing a daily marijuana habit, and dabbling in “sexier” mind-altering substances on the side. (I did not have any interest or experience in the drugs they were doing, so there are going to be key details of this story that will absent. Essentially, take all of this with a grain of salt*)

ANYWAYS. One weekend, these two buddies obtained a new substance (LSD or mushrooms? yikes, either sounds terrible). They were SO PSYCHED, because they had heard that they would be brilliantly creative and extraordinarily amazing while on this drug: One would craft entire SYMPHONIES! The other would rescue the electoral college! Cure capitalism! And our two-party system!! ALL OF THE THINGS. The week leading up to their designated two-man brainstorm/revolution, they were giddy with glee. They secured housing, prepared food, and organized their academic materials. Their academic materials consisted mainly of Great Works of Literature- to inspire elevated thought, as well as mathematics and economics textbooks- to provide cold formulas and logic to their experiences, and  blank music staffs- to provide space for the impending Next Great Symphony.

Ingestibles were ingested, the hours whipped into a frenzy, and soon enough the two triumphant travelers emerged to share their grand discoveries.

We expected them to emerge from the chambers triumphantly, with chapters and chapters of the next great American novel hammered out in frenetic, Keruoacian prose. Instead they limped forth with two high school algebra textbooks in tow. When we questioned them about the minutae of the weekend, they shrugged… neither of them remembered anything, except for the rush they both felt while they were writing their brilliant revelations… The sharp, clear, unflinching morning sun recounted a different sight. The stacks of paper and music staff were left untouched and empty… Yet, they had scrawled on every. single. page of two entire algebra textbooks, “macaroni and cheese.”  Over, and over, and over. This cryptic message was interspersed with “666” and crude drawings of genitalia, but the predominant message was “mac n cheese.”

There is no accurate way to portray the utter tragedy that was painted on the faces of these two gentlemen… however, the stark contrast of their constant state of “win”, and the reality of their meticulously planned weekend was remarkable and mind-blowingly hilarious.

This post does not do this second-hand-story justice





*Isn’t “salt” a drug too? Or, “bath salts”? I think I’ve seen a PSA about it… NOTHING IS SACRED ANYMORE





<a href="">Second-Hand Stories</a>



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