Spencer the Garbagehead had dropped some very powerful Owsley Purple, an hour or so ago.
It didn't matter exactly when.
Time was illusory.
Only vibrations mattered.
He was at one with the All.
His gaily painted Herse was just chugging onto the Golden Gate Bridge.
The sun was setting.
All was red and gold, flashing, flashing.
The sun was God.
He was God.
All the people in the shiny fruits and vegetables chugging next to him... they were God.
He heard a siren. A cop car pulled him over.
"Just haw fast you think you were going?", the cop asked Spencer.
Spencer, peaking and flashing, attempted to gather his wits.
He'd better play it on the conservative side.
He couldn't have been going that fast.
"You were going four miles an hour," said the cop. "Get out of the car!"
I saw the above gif the other day, and it fit perfectly with the above text I ran into 35 years ago.
I'm just glad that I held onto the book this long.
Pharmacopoeia, by Chris Miller (page 96)
National Lampoon Tenth Anniversary Anthology 1970–1980
Page count: 318