My only real "trip" happened when I was 19 and in college. That Friday night, there was a huge keg party in just about every dorm. Some of them had events called PDFs, Progressive Drink Floors, where you drank something even more intoxicating every floor until you got down to the first, where you finished off a keg. A friend and I tossed a sofa out onto the soccer green. The next day, still high as ever, we spent he entire day pretending to be jet pilots...we didn't move for hours.

My luck, I was out of town judging a high school debate contest, and only came back to the carnage a day later. One of my best friends Brad was laying in front of his dorm door, a stream of puke engulfing him. I love Brad, Brad is a great man, and went on to receive a M.D. from McGill University. But to this day, he blushes (he's black) when he has to admit he broke into my hockey gear and stole the recipe for "The Purple Jesus" that was on one of my t-shirts. Evidently Jesus wasn't so kind that evening.