Oh this brings back the memories. I was the geek who would usually pre-buy thru a connection and then home test pressed pills, or weigh out portions on my micromilligram scale for capsules (always calibrate first like a true f*cking OCD partying pill-popper!). I have Shulgin's formula for correctly dosing pure MDMA per weight to maximize positive effects and minimize negatives seared into my brain: 1.5mg/Kg. Of course you never found pure, and were lucky to not get Special K or mescaline or whatever the hell else I barely survived ingesting. We'd all be dead from Fentanyl poisoning today.

Great piece and great ending, my man. And yeah, me too: despite the brain-melting sonic soundscape and body-grooving glory of that hour or three you didn't want to ever end, I'm never going back to that serotonin-depleted zombified state of strung out. But I will say, ahem, hypothetically speaking, that shrooms are the closest that one in more advancing years may perhaps come to capturing a hint of that particular lightning in a bottle with few side effects. I mean, besides the taste. And what does it say that a shit-grown fungus goes down better than raw dogging MDMA, and--at least by the end of my party days--was less likely to come back up or explode out the back while trying not to sit down on a horror show of a piss and vomit coated club toilet?

Good times.