An exploration of a product that is definitely, absolutely, only to be used for charging whipped cream dispensers and nothing else.
Visitors to any outdoor music event or similar public event full of excitable people will be all too familiar with the screeching chorus of notorious oxide enthusiasts filling up balloons with their low rent intoxicant of choice. Often found stumbling across guy ropes in the blue-lipped stages of profound hypoxia, it’s a dynamic as evocative of contemporary festival culture as collapsed K casualties, overpriced bars and that nauseating smell of frying burgers mixed with human excrement that greets you as soon as you arrive on site.
Being a sucker for any quasi-legal product which carries the disclaimer ‘NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION’, I decided to see what all the fuss was about. My supplier conspiratorially informed me that there is a shop in Bristol that sells nothing but Erotica Cream, the shelves piled high with stock placed underneath a number of laminated A4 signs sternly warning that the owners ‘DO NOT SELL BALLONS’ in 72 point type.
With its retro-Seventies dolly bird packaging, Erotica Cream appears to be marketing itself as some kind of adult novelty product, rather than a formerly legal high that tends to offer the same skittish buzz as an unexpected punch to the back of the head.
Reminiscent of the gas-based anaesthesia I fondly remember pre-tooth extraction at my childhood dentist, the intense floaty feeling sustains itself for a short 30 seconds before a gentle landing back to earth. For seekers of esoteric wisdom Erotica Cream offers little in the way of psychedelic insight but for thrill-seeking idiots like myself, predisposed to very much enjoy a short but intense stumble about whilst egging on your friends to do likewise, its great value for money.
Incredibly more-ish though, so take that into account when ordering.
BRUCE BARNARD
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