If you like a good rave as much as I do, you’re probably down to get totally zapped out on some Horse Remorse. In fact, in light of the recent pandemic transpiring around the globe, the world needs to get absolutely zoinked out on Kitty Powder more than ever. After all, if we’re not fully slamming K-Toots, are we even living to begin with? Lest we forget, the human race was awarded the inalienable right to Womp Down during the Geneva Convention.
Ultimately, it was our very forefathers who died, weapons in hand, for our right to spazz out on some Creme Bru-K.
Yet, with great powder comes great responsibility. Too much of a good thing can spell major malfunctions to your brain cave. Special Kay rips are no different. These tasty treats are the product of thousands of years of evolution, true modern marvels of science, and they will eat your serotonin like a midday snack without batting an eye. That’s why you’ve got to know your symptoms and cross-check between any and all ongoing super viruses on a regular basis—just to keep your fellow K-hawks out of harm’s way.
I won’t lie to you; in these trying times, it may be harder than ever to tell exactly why you feel like total shit when you wake up in the morning. Could the sickness have originated from that gangly cook’s hand you shook at Waffle House last night (on account of him doing such a bang-up job on your hash browns)? Or could it be the result of something much more modest, like snoozing a half-G bag of Cliff Banger with your buddy Ian at the Zeds Dead show in Atlanta?
Scientists have pondered over these questions for eons.
I don’t know about you, but around my Rave Enclave, we’re not much for doctors. My buddy Pierce broke his hand doing light-gloves for a biker 6 months ago and just kept taking ecstasy until his wrist fused to his forearm. That’s the type of shit the political quacks on Capitol Hill don’t want you to know about. Sure, he can’t play catch with his son anymore, but he’s not even sure it’s his. For all he knows, he found the kid. 2016 was a blur for many of god’s chosen soldiers.
With that in mind, you don’t need “testing kits” or “scientific proof” to get to the bottom of your ailment. You just need street smarts—and we’ve got those in spades. Let’s go over some basic guidelines and symptoms to keep in mind to help you suss out the truth without letting the media eat away at your free will.
- Extreme desire to Womp-Face
- Hearing colors and seeing sounds from permanent Serotonin Syndrome
- Tinnitus of the ears, which can no longer be ignored due to the lack of massive amounts of K-Sizzle
- Meat Sweats
- You keep hearing your phone ring, only to remember that you left it in a tent at Bonnaroo two summers ago
- Lockjaw from that time you got shanked outside Brandon’s house with a stop signpost, but you didn’t get a tetanus shot because you were absolutely floored on Mouse Pellets
- Coughing up neon bracelets that look like they were made at an after-school program
- Haven’t played a Bauhaus song in days
- Big ol' dry cough
- Don’t mind being away from the Skizz Sesh
- Trouble breathing, but not from smoking too many menthols
- Fear of impending doom
- Should not be exposed to the public
- Loss of smell (in the case of K-Boyz it is due to stripped sinus cavities from all those $5 bumps being cut with lidocaine)
- Tired as hell
- Mad sad that you can’t spend more time with your Chakra Crew
- Out of toilet paper
Knowing your symptoms can mean the difference between living to K another day and moving on to the great rave in the sky. No matter what you’ve come down with—whether it’s a serious lack of Blind Squid Crystals or a widespread pandemic that is slowly taking the world by the throat—make sure to take this time to appreciate your loved ones, stay inside, and stay away from the raves for a little while. They’ll still be there when you get back.