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The Washington Post Magazine‘s lead story Sunday involved a twenty-something who goes to India to find his uncle, who’s become some sort of Hare Krishna guru-king.
It turns out that when your uncle’s a guru, he acts a little weird. He sits on a bed with the writer in silence, smirking. But I think the weirdest part in the piece comes before he joins the Hare Krishnas:
He thought about suicide, got kicked out of school and spoke of moving to Nepal. “Where did I go so wrong?” my grandmother, who still lives in Germany, wrote in her diary back then. One afternoon, terrified of losing her connection with her son, then 17 or 18, my grandmother, a good Lutheran, sat with him at the kitchen table and got high on LSD.
Emphasis added. Can you think of anything wilder than doing acid with your mom? No word on how her drawings skills were affected.
Speaking of drugs, police officers in Montgomery County discovered a drug operation Friday after being called to investigate a noise complaint. After the partiers refused to turn down the music, officers checked out the apartment, where they found $15,000 in weed, Ecstacy, and PCP. They also found a one-year-old child in a closet, which is much less fun.