I could think coherent thoughts, but whenever I opened my mouth, something akin to "hama blamnnnn gggggrubbanama" came out.

One time, a group of friends and I were talked into going to a rave called "Rollergasm." Imagine our surprise when, it was not so much a rave, as an underground gay circuit party (we're all heterosexual). Needless to say, we weren't having much fun, but after already having paid to get in, we decided to make the best of it, by scoring some XTC and having a good time. After all, there were usually couples on the floor making out at raves anyway, what did it matter if they were all pairs of guys?

One of my friends found a dealer and bought X for all of us. Unbeknownst to us, this was some heavy duty shit. We aren't newbies or anything, but this stuff whooped our asses, hardcore… Bobby was on the floor mumbling to himself and drooling; Morrie was busy with some girl he met (leave it to him to find a straight girl at a gay circuit party) and I was sitting on a bench wondering why I couldn't speak English anymore. I could think coherent thoughts, but whenever I opened my mouth, something akin to "hamablamnnnngggggrubbanama" came out. Although this was somewhat disquieting, I decided to go with it. Not much else to do BUT be an e-tard.

Periodically some of my friends would come up and try to talk to me. I guess it was because I didn't look like I was having a good time, just sitting there blabbering in some moon-man language while staring at a strobe light. When approached, I would think a coherent sentence, open my mouth and confidently say, "Ohamahabbbagoooootentag. Rahrahschlamkragger!" Their usual response was to nod and walk away. Soon I was wondering if I'd ever be able to speak intelligibly again. Although the trade off didn't seem too bad--lose some language skills but forever be completely enthralled by a strobe light or a spot on the wall!

The more I considered it, the more I realized that not being able to speak was screwing up my roll. At one point I got out a cigarette and started smoking but, apparently, the spots on the wall did something funny causing me to laugh and swallow all the smoke. The X had already messed with my stomach pretty bad, and that smoke inhalation proved to be the final straw. I grabbed a nearby styrofoam cup and horfed maybe 4 oz into it.

A few kind Samaritans, who'd witnessed this, were concerned about me. They brought me some water, to which I thanked them by saying, "heyabgthigjezwhatermagabam." Finally I managed to convince everyone I was indeed ok with hand gestures since I couldn't say anything even RESEMBLING spoken language.

Hours later, my little ordeal was drawing to a close, I realized I was no longer entertained by moving lights and figured I ought to try to be sociable. I walked up to this cute, single girl that had gone to the rave with us, and said confidently, "Hey, I speak English. That's cool." Now in my mind this was significant, as I had been unable to speak English for many hours. Apparently she just thought I was an idiot!

Later on, Rick mentioned that I might have had a shot with the girl if I had introduced myself by saying something like "Hello"...D'OH!!!