Ozzy Osbourne - Trust Me, I’m Dr. Ozzy

♦ Ask any major acid-head about “Bicycle Day” and he’ll know exactly what you’re talking about—it was the afternoon in 1943 when the Swiss chemist Albert Hofmann mistakenly took 100 times the “threshold dose” of LSD and then tried to ride home from his lab on a bicycle. Needless to say, the journey took a long time and involved visiting several other universes. Before then, no-one knew how high you could get from LSD (which is made from lysergic acid, found in certain kinds of fungi).

♦ No matter how much more research they do into LSD, it ain’t likely to become a new blockbuster drug any time soon, ’cos it was discovered such a long time ago. That means all the chemical formulas behind it are now “in the public domain” and aren’t gonna make anyone rich.

♦ Other common psychedelic drugs include peyote (a small, spineless cactus which contains mescaline), psilocybin (found in certain kinds of “magic” mushrooms) and PCP—which was used as an anaesthetic until surgeons realised it gave their patients head-trips that were worse than their injuries. Illegal PCP later became known as “angel dust.”

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

After spending the late sixties and the seventies in a psychedelic fog, I’ve found that even now, after thirty years of abstinence, my sight hasn’t recovered. Everything moves or breathes—the walls, the floors, people’s faces—and I can wake up in the night with full-on “acid vision.” Do you suffer from this? If so, what can I do about it?

They used to tell you that LSD never leaves your system for the rest of your life, although I think that’s been disproven now. What might be happening is that something’s triggering a memory of a bad trip—like when you think about spicy food and your mouth starts to water. But it doesn’t sound very fucking normal, still having “acid vision” after 30 years. You should go and get an MRI, because you never know, it might not even have anything to do with the crazy shit you took when you were a younger man.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Was Charlie Sheen really “winning” when he was fired from Two and a Half Men? Or is it impossible to lead such a wild existence without some kind of tragic conclusion?

There are three things I don’t like talking about these days: religion, politics, and Charlie Sheen. I’ll say this, though: if Charlie Sheen had found a cure for cancer, the guy wouldn’t have got as much press as he did when he was doing his Winning Warlock thing—which probably says more about our society than it does him. Also, as a general rule, it ain’t ever a good idea to make a big announcement about how you’re suddenly clean and sober, ’cos chances are, you’ll fall off the wagon at some point—and I guarantee, there’ll be a camera there, waiting for you. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, the baseball cap, the mug and spoon set, and every other souvenir you can think of.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I am a 47-year-old woman who’s indulged in various medicinal herbs and chemicals for most of my life. Now I’d like to stop, but how do I fight the urge to self-medicate?

It ain’t easy. When I finally admitted that I had a problem with booze, my mum said to me, “Well why don’t you just stop bloody drinking then ?” But the truth is, very few people can do that. Fortunately, there’s a lot of help out there now—which wasn’t the case in my day. The fact you understand that you’re self-medicating is a good thing, ’cos it means you ain’t under any illusions, although it sounds to me like you haven’t come to terms with the fact you might be an addict yet. The next stage is to find a good therapist, or a local AA meeting. That’s how I started. Having said that, the most important thing for me was changing my social circle. I just don’t hang out with practicing drug addicts or alcoholics any more. When you do that, you finally realize what a small minority of people have a case of beer and an eight-ball of cocaine for breakfast.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I’m not a big druggie, but I have a big birthday celebration coming up and I want to enjoy myself. Obviously I don’t want to cause any permanent damage—or end up in hospital—so what combination of magic plants, powders, pills, and other mind-altering chemicals would you recommend for a really kick-ass time?

My favourite combination of drugs was pretty specific: anything and anything— and as much of it as I could get my hands on it. That pretty much guaranteed a kick-ass time… until I woke up in prison, or in the ER, or in the middle of a twelve-lane freeway. I wish I could tell you the magic formula that’ll keep you out of trouble, but I never found it. Whenever I got loaded, my self-destruct circuit activated, and I ended up trying to strangle my wife, or shoot my cats, or some other fucked-up shit. My advice? Stay clean, man.

1. How can you get high from a Colorado River toad ( Bufo alvarius )?

a) By sucking on it

b) By milking it, drying the venom, and smoking it

c) By blending it and drinking the liquid

2. When a British prison inmate grew a marijuana plant in his cell, what did the wardens think it was?

a) A tomato plant

b) A Christmas tree

c) A plastic ornament

3. What was Diane Linkletter high on when she jumped out of a window to her death in 1969?

a) LSD

b) Peyote

c) Magic mushrooms

4. When cops raided an (alleged) meth dealer’s house in Mexico City, how much cash did they find hidden in the walls?

a) $205 million

b) $25 million

c) $2 billion

5. What was Operation Midnight Climax?

a) A project to create a female instant-orgasm pill

b) The secret nickname for Viagra drug trials

c) A CIA-run brothel where the punters were spiked with LSD

Knowing me, I won’t leave this earth peacefully. I’ll be abducted by killer turds from outer space, eaten by a giant cockroach, or crushed by a falling chunk of Halley’s Comet. No matter what happens, though, one thing’s for sure: my time will run out. When it comes to Death, not even the Prince of Darkness gets any special favours.

It used to bother me that I wouldn’t last forever, but it doesn’t any more. Don’t get me wrong: I ain’t planning to kick the bucket any time soon. But we’re already living in an overloaded world, and it’s only gonna get worse: a stray asteroid will land in the ocean, some whacked-out dictator will blow up the moon, or the next ice age will arrive. Who wants eternal life only to see all that bullshit happening? Fuck that, man: let the great-great-grandkids handle it. In the meantime, my philosophy is to make as much of what you’ve got, for as long as humanly possible. So when people write to Dr. Ozzy about getting old, that’s what I tell ’em: accept the inevitable, but don’t stop.

Never stop.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it too morbid to plan your own funeral? Or is it a thoughtful gift for your surviving relatives, like when Peter Sellers asked for Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” to be played during the service? (His final joke—everyone knew he despised the song.)

I honestly don’t care what music they play at my funeral—they can put on a medley of Justin Bieber, Susan Boyle, and “We Are the Diddymen” if it makes ’em happy—but I do want to make sure it’s a celebration, not a mope-fest. I’d also like some pranks: maybe the sound of knocking inside the coffin; or a video of me asking my doctor for a second opinion on his diagnosis of “death.” And obviously there’ll be no harping on the bad times, like, “Oh, he was terrible boozer, old Ozzy, and I’ll never forget when he beat up the cat.” So to answer your question: yes, I do think a bit of planning is the right thing to do for the family you leave behind. Also, it’s always worth remembering that a lot of people on this earth see nothing but misery their whole lives. So by any measure, most of us in the western hemisphere—especially rockers like me—are very lucky. That’s why I don’t want my funeral to be sad. I want it to be a time to say “thanks.”