I remember times, back in the sixties, when peeps I knew back in those days in Stockholm, Sweden, that they thought they could fly. I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest to keep them from jumping out windows. It is a hard life when you are the only one sober and not in the mood for going to funerals.
Too late the warning at Woodstock: "stay away from the brown acid"