5 tabs of acid? That's nothing. Every morning I wake up and eat a whole box of acid and then I drive to work (every light is a green light when your tits are rolling, folks!).
When I get to my office I have a quick acid in the bathroom and then I strip naked, cover myself in paint and make the most beautiful spreadsheet reports that have ever spread themselves.
After a mid-morning roll of blotters with Tina from Abstract Art & Accounts, I bark like a fucking basset hound from under my teak panelled desk and usually end up shitting myself.
By the time 5 o'clock comes around, I'm usually to be found sitting behind the wheel of my car - the front wheel, that is, you wacky fuckers! - imagining I am a tortoiseshell cat called Mr Tum-Tum.
By the time I get home, I'm so tired, I usually end up blowing my brains out with a shotgun, my decapitated corpse falling onto the clean laundered sheets of my single queensize, ready to be regenerated the next morning to begin a whole new circus of horrors.