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My problem here is that I've never been a big drinker. I enjoy the taste of alcoholic beverages, and I have an enormous tolerance for alcohol, but I don't enjoy being drunk that much: it makes me rambunctious, and I prefer to be chill. So I don't have a lot of "I was so wasted" stories. But I do have zillions of "I was so stoned" or "I was so tripping balls" stories. Let me give you one of those, instead.

My sophomore year of college, we had a huge dorm party for Halloween, and I volunteered to host the green room. Some dorms were big enough to have more than one, but we were a smaller dorm, so generally, any two people with a double room could host the green room. Through a fluke of housing, it so happened that I was assigned a double room without a roommate, so I had a lot of room and not too much stuff packed into it. I was a natural.

So, the rule was, everybody either donates a nug at the door, or tips a couple of bucks into the herb fund, then comes in, stays as long as they like, and can smoke off anything lit in the room (no in-and-out privileges). But the green room host has the right of first tokage off of anything that gets lit. I took advantage of that rule. A lot. We opened the door to folks at 7:30pm, and closed the doors at 12:30 am. In that five hours, we never had less than 40, maybe 45 people packed into that little dorm room, and I was taking first tokes like they were going out of style. I had a couple of bongs and pipes, but people brought a lot of their own-- including a huge 4'5" blown glass bong that was just ridiculous. It took me two huge pulls to fill and three tries to empty the chamber on that thing.

One of my friends, who was helping me run the show, said according to his count, I had a good 56, maybe 58 tokes over the course of our five hours. I don't remember much after we closed the room down. I don't even remember a whole lot about how we acted or what we did in the last hour or so my room was operating. But I remember how much I laughed, and what a great time I had.

My friends tell me that I came out of my room after we closed, and I laughed quietly for about ten minutes. Then I tried to get my breath, and apparently I couldn't really distinguish sounds, and had a certain difficulty distinguishing visual features, also. I am told I spent some time outside, looking at the sky and mumbling things like "Oh, wow, the moon is so cool!" and "The ground just fuckin' rules!"

I woke up the next afternoon with drymouth like no one has had since God woke Adam, naked, clutching an unlit doobie in one hand, and a porn mag in the other. Don't recall going to bed. Don't recall what happened once I got there. Don't recall if anyone was ever with me. That was the only time I ever had a serious weed hangover, and it lasted three days.

__________________
Dull sublunary lovers love,
Whose soul is sense, cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
That thing which elemented it.

(From "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne)