• Home
  • Books
  • About
    • About Bill
    • Q&A with Bill
    • Photos of Bill
  • Blog
  • News
  • Events
  • Media Room
  • Contests Winners
  • Contact

Bill A. Brier

Author of The Devil Orders Takeout

Follow Bill on FacebookFollow Bill on TwitterFollow Bill on GoodreadsFollow Bill on LinkedIn
Mailing List Sign Up


Read the First Post in the Story

Here are the first posts in The Brier Patch story:

  • Nudists Are Normal People… Or Are They?
  • Sex For Science
  • LSD…WOWEE!
  • Two Amazing Women…Which to Choose? Pt. 1
  • Two Amazing Women…Which To Choose? Part 2

Then, use the archives at the bottom of this sidebar to read the rest of the story!

Sign Up for Bill’s Blog

By signing up to receive blog posts by email, you are opting to receive Bill's mailing list and receive occasional promotions and news updates. You can remove your name from the list at any time by clicking on the unsubscribe link in any mailing you receive. Your name will not be shared with any third party.
Black Opal Books
(2017-10-21)
307 pages
$14.99/$3.99
ISBN: 9781626946897

Buy the Book

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
IndieBound

Buy the eBook

Kindle
Nook
Kobo
Google
Smashwords

Buy the Audiobook

Audible

 

Black Opal Books
(2017-04-22)
347 pages
$16.49/$3.99
ISBN: 978-1626946071

Buy the Book

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
IndieBound
Books-A-Million

Buy the eBook

Kindle
Nook
iBooks
Kobo
Google Play

Buy the Audiobook

Audible

Archives

Brier Patch Blog #3 LSD…WOWEE!

October 9, 2017 by Bill Brier 4 Comments

Barbara of Homosassa Springs, Florida was chosen last week’s $25 winner, having the correct answer, Vaginal contractions & orgasms.

LSD … WOWEE!

Before introducing wife number one or two (with whom things got really crazy), here’s another earlier adventure with Fran.

While I was living in the suburbs, raising a family with wife number one (she’ll be in later blogs), the country was in a whirl.

Antiwar rallies, sit-ins, the free-speech movement, the feminist movement, the pill (learned about that one a little late), and Harvard professor, Timothy Leary, telling the world to Turn On and Tune In.

Fran was not a druggie, but she had dropped acid. Not only had I not done acid, I had not done much of anything. I was like the guy who goes into a bar and the next thing he knows he’s in Hong Kong with a two-foot beard.

But I was catching up with the world, and since I’d already led a nude workshop and participated in a sex study, I thought, drop acid? Why the hell not!

There are two kinds of acid trips. Good ones and bad ones. Mine was the latter.

Tripping isn’t cool if you’re schizophrenic, or think jumping off roofs is akin to flying, or have a deep fear of the unknown. Like me.

“All set,” I told Fran, and patted that little tab in my shirt pocket.

Malibu Beach

Our plan was to rent a motel room on the beach and blow our minds. Run sand through our fingers and marvel at every grain.

In those days you always inspected the motel room before committing to it, and this one was dingy, dirty, and above all—depressing.

So back to Fran’s house it was. Lots of things to groove on there. The blinking light on her answering machine, the sound of moving air molecules—the evaporation of a water drop.

I slid in behind the wheel. “Let’s turn on now, before we go. Give things time to kick in.”

I carefully unwrapped our precious wafer-thin tab, the size of a small fingernail, and put it on the dashboard. With a razorblade across the middle, I pressed, and … half went flying.

“Don’t move!”

For ten minutes we sat frozen, our eyes searching.

Finally, there, in Fran’s hair.

Varoom! We were on the road. Soon, everything turned scenic.

My God! The traffic signal’s florescent. Like a black-and-white movie that suddenly switched to dazzling Technicolor.

“Far out,” Fran droned, slipping into appropriate lingo.

The House

I turned on lights, and Fran said, “I’m hungry,” and phoned Pizza Man for delivery.

After grooving on her goldfish with its far out, iridescent colors, I was suddenly struck with the kind of panic you feel when you miss a step on the stairs and know it’s going to be a bouncy ride down. The pizza guy will know we’re on acid and call the cops!

“CANCEL THAT ORDER!”

“No way,” she said. “He’ll be here any minute.”

We’re doomed. Wait!

I ran around turning off lights, muttering, “He’ll go away and we’ll be safe.”

Fran stared at her hand with the fascination of someone who’d never seen it before.

I was seeing it in handcuffs.

“Out of sight,” she droned, still staring at her hands, eyes pulsating.

The doorbell rang.

The Bedroom

I grabbed her arm, dragged her upstairs and yanked back the bed covers. “We’ll be safe under these.”

“Forget that!”

The doorbell got louder.

“We’ve got to hide!” I told her, holding back panic. “Dammit! You’re being irrational.”

When the guy finally gave up and left, I discovered that my “hour” of terror, while huddled under the covers and being tortured with non-stop doorbell ringing, had been only two (never to be repeated) minutes.

Being really pissed, Fran went in the bathroom and slammed the door.

I followed her. She was opening her bottle of nightly sleeping pills. “You can’t mix drugs,” I yelled. “You’ll OD and die!”

“Go back under the covers.”

“No!” I shouted and threw the jar out the window.

I climbed into bed and remembered something else Timothy Leary said. “You never come down. You only readjust.”

IF YOU’RE ENJOYING these goofy blogs, share with friends. There’s a new one each week (until I run out of drugs, girlfriends, and wives).

Me (actual photo).

 

Next Week:

Two Amazing Women …

Which To Choose?

Part 1

Filed Under: Blog

Comments

  1. Barbara Cameron says

    October 10, 2017 at 2:51 am

    Hope you don’t run out of sex, drugs or women anytime soon. ????

    Reply
    • Bill Brier says

      October 10, 2017 at 10:21 am

      Stay tuned, Barbara. You shouldn’t be disappointed.

      Reply
  2. Robbie Bauldree says

    October 13, 2017 at 12:49 pm

    Cute story.

    Reply
    • Bill Brier says

      October 16, 2017 at 8:44 pm

      I’m so glad you liked it, Robbie.

      Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Copyright © 2023 Bill A. Brier