I had a good friend who was the King of All Partiers 'round here. We used to spend a lot of weekends dropping acid and eating speed like they were Flintstone chewables. I never thought that there was much of a physical or emotional toll to that sort of thing until the day I thought my heart was going to explode. I refused to go to the e/r for fear of the questions that would be asked. Well I survived but my friend ended up killing himself a few years later after a particularly nasty bender of alcohol and assorted chemicals.

I stopped doing anything stornger than the occassional beer or maybe an Advil or two since.

"Here's to you Butchie. I hope you're geeking a frosty or two and burning some herb wherever you might be, brother." :)