Vice magazine laver nogle vildt seje artikler fra tid til anden. bl.a. denne om Methoxetamin og kemikeren der har lavet det:
http://www.viceland.com/int/v18n2/htdoc ... php?page=1 husk at klikke videre til side 2 og 3.
EDIT: oh my golly!! det lader til at M er selveste bluelight legenden fastandbulbous:
Citat:
Well I've been offcially declared sane after nearly two weeks in the cuckoo's nest, although it was longer than expected due to meetings wityh consultant psychiatrist being put back/cancelled (yes the wheels of beauracracy do indeed turn slowly)
Basically I underestimated the half life of said assoerted 3-MeOPCP derivatives and ended up so fucked that I became a tad catatonic, which resulted in paramedics, doctors, hospitals & section 2 of the mental heath act being used to 'make me better' (it was the final dose of 3-MeOPCP that tipped the scales - I can quite confidentally state that a toxic dose is less than the 50mg I IMed). Mrs f&b had been to Leeds for her cousin's 40th birthday and returned to find me (or at least my mind) somewher past Alpha Centauri. The first thing I remember is being in an ambulance, being asked all sorts of questions by paramedics about what & how much I'd taken of whatever had done this to me. After 2 days in a 'normal' hospital, two docs came into my room, asked some questions (some of which I still can't see the point of); it was only an hour after they'd buggered off that I was informed that I was to be detained because in their opinion I was a fruit loop. As I later found out, they thought I'd tried to self harm/commit suicide after finding some printed pages full of vitriolic rants. It took bloody ages for them to believe that 1) I'd written said pages 3 years ago & 2)that they were wriiten as a form of therapy where youi put down your feelings in writing in order to exorcise such feelings. Where I came unstuck was that you're supposed to destroy said rants after commiting to paper, but being the idele bastard that I am, I'd just put them in a draw by the computer, so they did a 2+2=5 sort of deduction.
Let me tell you that if you ever think you're going insane, try a fortnight in a secure psychiatric ward - I encountered real crazies there which in comparison with, I'm just a tad eccentric. One night I had waited to watch Ross Noble's Aussie program, but when it started, this 'heed the ball' starts ranting at me how he's killed for the queen's honour while in the SAS. I asked him if it could wait as I'd been waiting all night to watch this program, but he just continues gibbering. So I get a chair and put it about 2m in front of the telly as a way of saying "I want to concentrate on this". Does it work? Does it fuck, he comes and stands between me and the telly and continues to rant. At this point I was thinking "you had better of been in the SAS as anytime now I'm going to kick the living daylights out of you if you don't fuck off RIGHT NOW". Not sure if he was actually responding to my request to'shut the fuck off or fuck off', but it was the closest I've come in my adult life to an act of violence upon someone for a reason other than them abusing animals. If that wasn't enough, there was another one on the ward with exactly the same derangement and it was only the knowledge that attacking another patient would result in my being kept in longer that kept me from administering my own version of aversion therapy on them. I don't know what it is, but I seem to be a nutter magnet - they see me as some sort of kindred soul (rather than the misanthrope that I know lies just beneath the surface). In the time I was in there, one fellow patient put a chair through the window of the communal room, followed by a proclamation that he was indeed lord god almighty; another patient punched a third patient in the head about half a dozen times for not passing the salt to him and yet another tried to fight off nursing staff with an acoustic guitar while screaming that they could put their medication wher a monkey shoves his nuts. I am so fucking relieved to be out and able to watch a telly program in peace and not having to hide the remote control to prevent them swiching channel mid program (not to watch anything else, just to change the channel).
I have since found out that the paramedics took a load of my 'pharmaceutical reseach tools' under the excuse that they had to find out what I'd took (totall bollocks of course as they waltzed off with samples of 3-MeOPCP, various other 3-MeOarylcyclohexylamine dissociatives, a bag full of really nice white widow and various other items which I'm still trying to list, such as my yohimbe alkaloid extracts). As only the cannabis was a controlled drug, I'm sure they overstepped their authority and effectives stole all of the other uncontrolled compounds. I was told they've been destroyed, which rather pisses me off as they did not break any law and were my property, but what the fuck can you do.
Although I'm glad to be out, the grim shit continues as mrs f&b has moved out stating that she could no longer watch me self destruct with assorted drugs and that even if I stopped she'd had enough and it was all over. It seems that I've fucked up on a scale I'm still having difficulty fathoming.
It never rains but pours & I can blame no-one but myself for putting the whole shit train in motion in the first place
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.p ... 458&page=5 det var noget af en røvtur han tog der.
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