I mean, really, where do you even begin with a story like this? In a recent interview with Rolling Stone magazine, metal musician, artist, womaniser and face-paint enthusiast Marilyn Manson (born Brian Hugh Warner) opened up about his rampant drug use and experimentation with mind-bending substances, and if we're honest, one stands out above the others: human freakin' bones.
I don't really like to use the word "cooked" when I'm writing (unless I'm describing a tasty lasagne) because this is Penthouse and not the aptly-named Pedestrian TV, but one is forced to wonder, just how "cooked" can one even get from smoking human bones? We're all aware of Tupac Shakur's hip-hop outfit The Outlawz ostensibly smoking the rap legend's cremated ashes in a big ol' spliff after his untimely passing, but this is pretty dark.
The exact origins of these bones aren't clear, but in all honesty, I don't even know if that's the weirdest part of Manson's confession – I actually think it's the fact he rated it as one of the worst drugs you can possibly do. Let's say, for the sake of the argument, that he got them from the catacombs of Paris. Nobody's going to miss one or two, right? There are plenty there, no known relatives, easily accessible. And they'd be well and truly dry by now, making them perfect to roll up. So how on Earth can they get you high?
A quick Google suggests a serious lack of information, which means one can only assume that human bones aren't exactly choc-a-block full of psychotropic substances. Drug users are a famously inventive bunch: just look at a bong. Or cocaine (who knew that turning the leaves of inhospitable mountainside scrub into a mush and then adding petrol and hydrochloric acid could be so darn tantalizing?). I feel like maybe if human bones could get you soaring then we'd know about it by now (the Aztecs were pretty fucked up, surely they'd have tried this).
The only real assumption to make here is that whatever cocktail of shit the guy had taken that morning, which compelled him to smoke human bones in the first place, really took its toll. It was that cocktail, surely. Not the femur, or the tibia that he crumbled into a joint and burnt down with his homies that twisted his brain so far that he recommended that nobody try it (also: yeah – that's the reason you shouldn't smoke human bones...)
If anybody's game enough to give this a crack – don't write in – I don't want "accessory to grave robbing after the fact" to be the first entry on my rap sheet.