Fear and Loathing in... Belper?

It started on a Friday. Parents went away for the weekend. We drank a few beers, chilled at home with Grace. Brother, Teddy, and Alice made varying appearances. Bearing in mind that my memory has since deteriorated, I couldn't tell you the exact sequence of events that led to me eventually drinking a bottle of Benylin Dry Cough mixture. I know that I had a cough. And I know that I knew that dextromethorpan gets you high, and diphenhydramine makes you trip out and go to sleep. I wanted sleep. I think.
I was getting sleepy, and couldn't see properly, I was so stoned on this stuff. I staggered to bed, and slept for 13 hours.
Saturday was party day, and having woken up at 3pm, I was in a bit of a hurry to get things ready. I went to Belper on a mission for weed and vodka. The vodka part was easy enough, but weed involved finding Ozzy, and then accompanying him on a long trek, involving many breaks to 'wrap one up, yo.' It was such exhausting work...

At this time I was already pretty out of it. Dextromethorpan (DXM) is a euphoric dissociative hallucinogenic, and diphenhydramine is a deliriant hallucinogenic and also boosts the effects of alcohol. I wasn't actually hallucinating, I hadn't taken nearly enough for a proper, reality-breaking trip, but I was definitely high.
My body and brain seemed to be disconnected. I was walking, very fast, into town, but felt no pain or tiredness. I looked down at my feet, seeing them walking, and knowing that it was nothing to do with me. I tried to tell them to stop walking, but it didn't work. I was being carried somewhere. This was slightly worrying, but also intriguing. I managed to gain back my autonomy enough to go and buy some cigarettes. Then, I was in a supermarket, eyes aching horribly in the bright lights. My pupils couldn't shrink, they stayed huge, so I wandered around with a wide-eyed 'deer in headlights' expression, trying to focus enough to understand the world. I managed to buy a bottle of vodka, and then went to meet people. We smoked some, walked, smoked some more, and somehow ended up in a house, with the guy who we were buying off, smoking joint after joint, and generally passing time. I realised I had the shakes again, real bad, it was so difficult to even take a spliff when it was passed to me. Then I realised that I was supposed to be having a party. Grace was at home on her own, and she would be pissed off...
However, the warm and cozy house, with endless supplies of weed, random conversation, and a little dog, was too nice to leave. It was pouring with rain, too. However, at some point, we walked, via many other places, up Mill Street, and ended up home. There was, indeed, a party. And a very pissed off Grace. I was 2 hours late for my own party. And, ironically, Ozzy had disappeared somewhere with my weed. Anyway, my room was hotboxed, and everyone was happy. And I got some people stoned through passive smoking, who would never dare to active smoke. So generally, I won. At about 7am I fell asleep. Apparently I twitch a lot.

The parents just came home. My room smells of insence. I have some vodka left. I finally ate some real food. And now I'm so chilled, it's awesome. I just want to give everyone a hug. So, dear reader(s), imagine that you are being hugged by a short, twitchy, vodka-scented girl. Nice, isn't it?