Thursday, December 17, 2009

Journey to the centre of the K hole

Hey readers, I tell you what, please ignore all that stuff I wrote about wanting you to take acid. I had the worst stomach ache of my life for five hours and I was a right old mess. I re-read what I’d written and, wtf? What a load of old bollocks! I’m embarrassed, to be honest with you.

Hello to my new follower Kate, btw. Nice to see you but, take my advice, steer clear of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds!

The thing is, this arts project is getting a bit out of hand. But when it comes to Dippy, I’m just a guy who can’t say “no” and the sixth drug of Christmas was quite something else. I’m not sure exactly what though. Jesus drugs are quite dangerous, dangerous but quite the experience.

And I have just had quite the experience, I can tell you that for the price of nothing. I am just back from what is known in the parlance of those who know as the ‘K-hole’. I did intend to blog about my first experience of ketamine, otherwise known as K, as it happened, but I was too fucked to type. Actually, out of my face doesn’t even come close – I spent 20 minutes thinking I was nothing but a little white box with the letter P on it. WTF?!

Madonna was wrong by the way – K is no way better than ecstasy. Then again, she is about 70 or something and has probably done the 12 drugs of Christmas more than once, especially since she used to go out with gangsters like Ice T.

Anyway, I digress, I was going to tell you about my experience in the K-hole. It was actually pretty scary from start to finish. Dippy reckons she’s done K loads, so I followed her lead. Apparently K is quite hard to get hold of on the street these days, but Dippy said we’d be able to get some at this squat party. It was one of those ones where you have to phone a mobile number an hour before it starts to get the address, which was some disused warehouse on the A406, near the big Staples.

It was like that party where I met Dips, it was like a drugs sweet shop. Everyone was fucked out of their minds. There were tramps with dogs on string smoking crack out of beer tins, prossies touting their wares and little kids of about 14 running around selling acid, I’m not touching that again in a hurry. There was even a stall set up in the corner, just selling drugs openly. It was brilliant, just a great big two finger salute to The Man, like we were all saying, “you can’t keep us down, because we’re free thinkers! You can’t keep us boxed up, because in here, we are no longer in your world and we can access the truth!” So we bought three grams of K from the shop and Dippy was all like “let’s just do it now,” but I didn’t want to taint my first experience in such a weird vibed environment, so I said we should go home.

Lucky we did too – the pigs were outside waiting for the party to die down enough to charge in and beat everyone up probably. I thought they might shake us down, but I outsmarted them. I hid the wraps of K in an open packet of smoky bacon crisps I had. They didn’t stop us but it would have been ironical if they had – smoky bacon – pigs. Lol!!

So back at home Dippy racked up two fat lines of K. Apparently you can’t die or overdose on K. It’s actually a horse tranquiliser, and they used it as a field anaesthetic in ‘Nam, for that very reason. That you can’t OD on it, not that it’s a horse tranquiliser. They didn’t have horses in ‘Nam. Probably because they were all eaten by the Viet Cong.

Anyway, K is a dissasociative, which means it makes your mind feel as though it’s outside of your body. Far out man! But [your]God that stuff is awful! It hits you pretty much instantaneously and you just lose control of your motor functions. It’s like you’re a passenger in your own head, watching your body move around like a Thunderbirds puppet. It’s a really disorientating experience and it makes you feel sick. I had to crawl on my hands and knees to the lav so I could worship the porcelain altar, because I swear to [your] God I thought I was sitting on the ceiling. Dippy didn’t even make it that far, she puked down the side of the sofa. It was like the room was spinning so I just had to ride out the rest of the trip laying on the bathroom floor. I don’t even know how long it lasted ‘cos time just seemed to loop in on itself, like it was infinite or something. And just as I was coming round again Dippy said we should do another line, and then she said that having sex on K is a really weird experience. So I saw my chance here readers, I said we should try it then, you know, for the sake of research ;-) afterwards we could always say it was the drugs talking. Dippy was up for it which was brilliant because I’ve been wanking like a trooper lately and I really needed a chance to properly clean out the pipes. But as soon as we got our kit off (Dippy has amazingly pert knockers BTW!) it all went wrong… Now I’m not talking brewer’s droop, everyone knows that happens often after a night on the sauce and it’s nothing to worry about, but this was different. Suddenly I felt as though I was in the centre of a Roman amphitheatre, about to do the deed with thousands of people watching from the stalls. And the crazy thing is that I could see myself from the crowd’s eye point of view, and there at the front of the crowd was Dan, looking at me all accusingly. I know none of this was really happening but it was like I was a passenger in my own nightmare, while myself was acting of its own accord. It gave me stage fright, my knob shrunk to an acorn, Dippy got the hump and the moment was ruined. I needed a couple of Cobras to get myself back together but it’s a bit awkward with Dippy still.

I’m never doing that again.


  1. Have you tried sherbet dip-dabs? Phew

  2. I think these posts are some of your finest... but I am worried about the week ahead. Are there even another 7 drugs for you to try?

  3. It can be rough falling in the K hole, but nothing some Cobras won't fix.

  4. Baz, my boy – I’m inspired! Your selfless devotion to your followers leaves me humbled. To sacrifice yourself in this way on the altar of hedonism for the singular purpose of bringing understanding and insight to your growing band of followers is the act of a truly magnanimous man. Your example has emboldened me! If you can do these things for us – surely, the very least we readers can do is support your altruistic endeavours by becoming proactive in this evolving, and sociologically important, project.
    To that end I have, this very morning, been out on the tenebrous back streets of Nottingham and scored a deal on my own drug of choice – Phyllosan! I tremble at the very sound of its name – remembering as I do the last really bad trip that me and Mrs Winterbottom had on it when we popped a couple after early closing at the Age Concern charity shop where we both help out on a Tuesday.
    The Phyllosan bottle is before me as I type. I’ve shaken a little white tablet of pleasure into my trembling hand! I can’t fight it a second longer. It’s been a long, long time and I swore I would never, ever do this again – but, for you and our friendship Baz, I will do it - I’m going upstairs to have a P.
    When I get back from the astral plane I shall pass on as many recollections of the trip as my addled brain can recall.
    Yours in science, MrC

  5. Sweet jesus, whats next?!!!

    This is all very educational. :)

  6. Dudes. I am well appreciative of your feedback. Mr C, in many respects I feel you have much in commong with the King of Rock 'n' Roll himself. MLS - Dr Ugly comes in many guises. You know the score. Uber - nice to meet you to meet you nice and yes, I've tried dib dabs. DO NOT SNORT DIB DABS, I sneezed so violently that I soiled myself. Hunter. You know the score too. I think Cobra could solve the Middle East. Jusearoo - speed.

  7. Dude!
    I fell in a K-hole by mistake once, and it's been one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had. In fact, every so often I still put a fat line before going to sleep, and spend a while 'out there' being pure energy and flying in an ethereal form, in places that not even acid has propelled me to. K is quite something - but there are a few things you have to keep in mind...
    1: Don't mix with alcohol. It will make you nauseous. Chill, kick back, relax, and remember that it's *just a trip*.
    2. Dosage. A little is like having a few glasses of wine. A little more is like flying on the dancefloor. A little more can take you into K-world... unless you've already been doing so much that your tolerance stops you from 'falling in'. In which case you'll stay on a plateau, feeling like you're 'swimming in honey'.
    I love K. And it's a fantastic mix with Acid or 2CB - it takes the edge off and keeps things nice, clean and psychedelic. It's groovy stuff. :)
    So... yeah - next time, try a little less, or at least make sure you are lying down and taking it easy! Set and setting, man! :)

  8. Oh - I forgot. Since K is a dissociative, falling in the K hole means your ego vanishes, melts away, disappears. Now *THIS* is what scares the hell out of people; the thought of losing oneself, losing your mind, disappearing into space.
    So I tell you: Go with it. Let it happen. You'll be black, it's *just a trip*... so let go, go with the flow, enjoy the freedom. :) Sometimes a bit of nitro can help you get over the 'treshold' ;)... (although that can also propel you into dimensions beyond the K, so .. proceed with caution).