&lt;div class=&quot;report-text-surround&quot;&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;15&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;!-- DoseChart --&gt;
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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;DOSE:&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;5 hits&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;oral&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/lsd/&quot;&gt;LSD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(blotter / tab)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
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		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;smoked&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/plants/cannabis/&quot;&gt;Cannabis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(plant material)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br&gt;

	&lt;table border=&quot;2&quot; cellpadding=&quot;4&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#444455&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight&quot;&gt;
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           &lt;td width=&quot;110&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight-title&quot;&gt;BODY WEIGHT:&lt;/td&gt;
	   &lt;td width=&quot;80&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight-amount&quot;&gt;125 lb&lt;/td&gt;
         &lt;/tr&gt;
	&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;!-- End DoseChart  --&gt;
&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;
To start, this happened many moons ago and took place near the end of my high shcool years with a good friend I&#x27;ll call Dan. Dan and I were both unusually acquainted with hallucinogenics and general mind alterants for our respective ages, so what we were about to do did not seem that unreasonable. Of course, we had no idea how the night would unfold.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We set off on a mission to split a ten strip and watch the movie Scream that was playing at a theater in a mall in a neighboring city (and state). I worked at this mall, and the plan was that he would meet up after I got off work from the department store, we&#x27;d split the strip, walk around the mall until the movie started an hour later and my coworker I&#x27;ll call Sara would then pick us up at the end of the film when the mall was closing. Sara would then drive us around town for the evening, stopping by a carnival that was set up near the mall and we would trip in joyous rapture.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I did not know that the state police had set up a convention of some sort in the mall that night. I didn&#x27;t know this until I ate the strip and wound my way with Dan to the far side of the mall, where the state police had set up displays warning of the dangers of drugs, guns and other police-like warnings. I was mortified. Some snippets of my thoughts at the time would probably read like these : This is not good. I just ate 5 hits of acid, and I&#x27;m in a building with no less than 15 state police and a radio DJ. I need to go. Oh god no. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We head back around the mall and into the theater. So we&#x27;re now sitting in the front row of a pretty crowded mall cinema and we&#x27;re watching the movie Scream, which neither of us had seen up to this point. The shit kicks in, and I&#x27;m literally petrified. I can&#x27;t breathe. I can&#x27;t think. All I see is the Ghostface Scream killer peaking out between my feet and Dan seems completely oblivious to it. I drop my soda on the ground and pull my feet up on the chair, sitting on my knees so the Ghostface killer won&#x27;t get me. Dan is just the picture of cool. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I somehow made it through the film, not moving an INCH until the houselights came on. At this point, I followed Dan out and back towards the mall. I was tripping balls. Dan, still so cool, commented that the movie let out earlier than expected so let&#x27;s walk around again. I said sure. I commented on my legs feeling strange, not realizing they were completely asleep from my sitting on them for two solid hours. And so we walk. I&#x27;m so preoccupied with my rubber legs I don&#x27;t notice we head right back to the fucking police display.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Three cops are leaning on a display table and staring at us as I am nearly clinging to Dan and he is browing a display of weapons made in prisons. &#x27;Go ahead and pick one up&#x27; the cop said. It took a mini-eternity for me to register he was speaking to me, so I grab the first thing in front of me which happens to be a shank made from a toothbrush and some wooden thing sticking out of it. I just said &#x27;This is cool.&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;I lost a buddy to that thing. I don&#x27;t think that&#x27;s cool at all, actually.&#x27; was the police mans reply. All I remember seeing were thousands of pulsing, writhing worms all over the place. I wanted to vomit. Dan pulled me away and we headed through the department store I worked in, looking for Sara. Moving from literally one horror (Scream) to another (Angry police) and now moving to me being surrounded by my coworkers while tripping my nuts off, I was not really feeling this trip if you&#x27;re with me. As people said random things, I hear my name occasionally but kept walking straight ahead, following Dan the whole time, just looking for Sara.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The colors, the amazing clarity of the store in its neon evil, the whorish looking people I work with in their makeup and fake smiles, I was very near a breakdown when Dan said &#x27;There she is.&#x27; He spotted Sara walking out of the store and into the parking lot. I literally bolted through the store and out the door, running outside and yelling &#x27;HEY!!!! SARA!!!&#x27; I get outside and remember the Ghostface killer man, and turn to run right back inside when Dan catches my arm and guides me to the car. Now Sara had just got a new car. Literally the week before. She had never owned a manual before, but was learning how to drive one. We piled into her Cavalier, me in the front, Dan in the back behind me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Her having no idea what it is like to be tripping, bitching about customers as she stalls the car twice before pulling out of the parking lot. I look at her and see a giant raccoon with a wig on, driving this car and the fucking raccoon keeps sticking its tongue out at me. I get a bit freaked out, so I can&#x27;t look at her. Which makes her start asking &#x27;What is your problem?&#x27; This question inevitably will lead anyone tripping face to dissect their entire life, which is exactly what I began doing as she sped toward the interstate ramp. &#x27;You&#x27;re going really fast!&#x27; I said with a laugh, finally getting comfortable as Dan leaned forward and adjusted the radio to a local rock station. &#x27;You call this fast? Watch this!&#x27; She said, laughing too. We all laughed as the red and blue lights started flashing behind us at that exact moment. She said the words &#x27;Watch this&#x27; and the cab of her car turned into an amazing array of red and blue pulsing waves.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Oh fucking fuck.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Now, I was sitting with my right foot resting on my left calf. I was wearing Doc Marten boots, brown in color. I was holding my right foot in both hands. This is a detail you should know before I mention the flashlight that started shining in my window, in my face as a nightstick tapped against my glass. Not hers. Mine. I&#x27;m just tripping, I thought to myself. I&#x27;m not really getting spotlighted by a cop, no fucking way! Dan grabbed me by my shoulder in a vulcan death grip. &#x27;Dude, stop saying that you&#x27;re tripping. Roll down your window.&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I was saying that shit out loud. OK. Roll down window. I can do that. Sara did it for me. I was greeted with &#x27;What is in the cup son??&#x27; Now I knew for a fact he wasn&#x27;t talking to me, I had no cup. I had nothing that could hold liquid so I am gonna sit here and not say a wor- &#x27;I SAID WHAT IS IN THE CUP SIR&#x27; His light was shining on the foot I was holding in my hands. &#x27;IT&#x27;S NOT A CUP! IT&#x27;S MY FOOT! I CAN&#x27;T DRINK IF IT&#x27;S A FOOT SO I HAVEN&#x27;T DONE ANY DRINKING!&#x27; Those were my exact words, I will never forget them as long as I live. And I was ocnvinced this police officer was Deputy Dewy from Scream.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The police left us alone after giving Sara a nice fat ticket for speeding 20 miles above speed limit. She was in tears, but proceeded to take us to the carnival. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to never ever ever come out of my room again.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
So we get to the carnival.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The definition of pure fear, already established well for me that night, was now truly revealed. Enormous inflated clowns. Cheap blinking yellow lights. Dozens of people meandering about, nothing to do but stare at the people coming in. Grating sounds from the rides that were bound to break apart at the slightest breeze. Dan told me I needed to relax, and instructed me to sit at a picnic table while he got us drinks. Sara was bitching to someone she went to school with about her ticket and she was crying hard.  OK. I can sit still. I sit at the table watching people walk past me, some with cotton candy, some with giant cheap stuffed animals. I wish I had a stuffed animal, I thought to myself. And then I saw the little kid and the stuffed banana. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
This kid, all of three years old, walked by holding up this great stuffed banana. He held it out to me, I swear he did. Assuming he heard my wish for a stuffed animal, I took it. He began to scream LOUDLY. I panicked. What follows panick when tripping is natural. I ran away. With the fucking stuffed banana.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
And the LSD, how she loves to fuck with me. Coming and going, ebbing and flowing, just when I think I got it all under control another tidal wave crashes into my soul. That wave decided to crash right as I was sprinting with the banana, no clue where Dan was or Sara for that matter. I just ran. People staring, voices yelling behind me, I just ran. And this banana, it had a face on it. And this nose, like a little button sticking out of the face. It didn&#x27;t look like it wanted the button sticking out like that, and before I knew it, Dan and Sara were rushing me into the car after finding me sitting on the sidewalk, chewing the nose off of this stolen stuffed banana.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Back in the car, I was contently chewing as Dan and Sara were exchanging heated words. Sara, it seems, was no longer going to drive us. We had to drive ourselves back home. All I saw was the flowing water of colored sounds and vibrations, and my happy little banana with a mangled, soaking wet nose hanging by threads. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
 &lt;span class=&quot;erowid-caution&quot;&gt;[Erowid Note: 
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. &lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/show_image.php?i=dmt/dmt_contraindications1.gif&quot;&gt;Don&#x27;t do it!&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/span&gt; 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The next thing I know I&#x27;m in Dans car. He&#x27;s driving. And I know he is tripping as hard as me. He has to be. He&#x27;s just a lot cooler with it all. I now had a drink that Dan bought me, and my banana that my mind was somehow linking to a tribal consciousness. I was set. Dan was not. I realized he was just as fucked up as I was as I noticed he was driving the wrong way on a one way road, that was under construction. I pointed this out rather calmly, because this banana kept telling me not to panic, that Dan needed me. So I told Dan that he was going to get us arrested very calmly and the banana was pleased.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We were all actually cool until I realized that Dan had no idea where we were or how to get us home. The banana, the drink and all the zen in the world didn&#x27;t keep me from tweaking out at this point. That&#x27;s when Dan told me to pull the ashtray out of his dash. I did so. And there were two more ten strips wrapped in cigarette wrappers, and some joints. &#x27;Do not freak on me.&#x27; I agreed with him. The thought of prison can sober someone up fucking FAST.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I felt in my pocket and found a pack of stickers. They had STATE POLICE - 911 emblazoned on them. I must have had 200 or more of these things. How I got them, I have no idea to this day. What I do remember next was Dan pulling down a heavily wooded dirt road and bringing me to a secluded hiking path and saying &#x27;Let&#x27;s walk&#x27; at around 1 in the morning. So I followed him. The banana nodded in agreement, and with him in tow we began walking. It was a full moon in the middle of the woods, just me and Dan, tripping nuts and now passing a joint back and forth. The joint, I think, is what made the banana start fucking with me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I know I heard a voice that was not Dan&#x27;s come out of the bananas mouth when he said &#x27;Watch out for Mr. Ghostface.&#x27; I became paralyzed with fear. Not for the first time that night, but probably the worst. I was surrounded in white moonlight shining through tree branches. EVERYTHING LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING SCREAM MASK.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;Don&#x27;t move.&#x27; I breathed. Dan stopped walking ahead of me and came back. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;What is it?&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;Don&#x27;t...move&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
He then turned and exclaimed &#x27;Dude, good call!&#x27; And started walking towards a tent I had not even noticed was set up five feet away from me. With the moonlight, I could not tell if it was an old tent or a new tent. It looked abandoned. I noticed holes throughout it, and the banana chimed in that what I was seeing was knife marks and the tent held the corpses of Mr. Ghostface.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We walked up to the tent and I sat down on something. I wasn&#x27;t paying attention. I told Dan the camp looked abandoned and we should get going. He told me he didn&#x27;t think it was abandoned because I was sitting on a cooler. I opened the cooler up and stuck my hand in ice and black tarry shit that I was convinced was blood. I ran back to the back, Dan following me quickly.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;What is it?&#x27; he asked. I held up my hand. It smelled like cake. I had stuck my hand in someones ice cream or chocolate something. But where were the people who should be in the tent? WAS THIS HAPPENING????
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We kept along the path and within minutes came into a clearing that lead to a series of cliffs overlooking the river. I realized Dan had found his way back to familiar turf and had brought us to the cliffs, a local hangout where I had been many a time. Sitting 250 feet over the river one could observe a great peace-sign made of rocks on the embankment below. We climbed onto the rocks, Dan warning me to be careful. The banana had other plans. He informed me that the only thing I could do that would matter would be to place stickers on the face of the cliff that had the police logo on them. I looked at Dan, who was sitting indian style on a jutting rock and I was instantly reminded of the Hermit from the game Rygar. I decided not to disturb him and went about my business of hanging over the cliffs edge and placing stickers as far as I could reach. I hung from my stomach down over the cliff and started feeling heavy.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I was sliding. I remember my exact thought as I started feeling my weight shift towards my head. &#x27;That fucking banana killed me.&#x27; Then blind pain as my chin smashed the rock ledge and my face was dragged along ground. Dan had leapt over, grabbed my feet and dragged me back to safety. Neither of us said a word yet he knew to come and help.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We spent the rest of our trip exploring, chilling out, finishing another J and letting the trip unwind before he drove me back to my house where I climbed in through my window and slept for nearly a full day.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
This story taught me several things, one being that tripping can induce fear. Another being that fear is not always bad as this will forever be my favorite trip of many, many MANY trips - even though this one was spent almost entirely in some state of disbelief or panic. And finally it taught me that if you find yourself tripping and weilding a stuffed banana, get a second opinion before taking any advice it may offer.&lt;!-- End Body --&gt;
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&lt;table border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;5&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;footdata&quot;&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;700&quot;&gt;Exp Year: 2005&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 48973&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gender: Male&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Age at time of experience: Not Given&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Nov 30, 2007&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 52,403&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;[ &lt;a href=&quot;exp.php?ID=48973&amp;amp;format=pdf&quot; type=&quot;text/pdf&quot;&gt;View as PDF (for printing)&lt;/a&gt; ] [ &lt;a href=&quot;exp_pdf.php?ID=48973&amp;amp;format=latex&quot;&gt;View as LaTeX (for geeks)&lt;/a&gt; ]
[ &lt;a href=&quot;#&quot; onclick=&quot;expChangeColors(); return false;&quot;&gt;Switch Colors&lt;/a&gt; ]
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;LSD (2), Police / Customs (60) : Various (28), Guides / Sitters (39), Entities / Beings (37), Difficult Experiences (5)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;!--  &lt;img src=&quot;/images/new.gif&quot; alt=&quot;May&quot;&gt; --&gt;
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