This might sound lame but alcohol, without a doubt. Even the times I've really over amped or on the rare occasions I've taken a fair bit of Etizolam (9mg, none or very little tolerance at the time), I have in no way came close to the state I have been due to alcohol.
Too many stories. One that sticks out (partly because I never blacked out for some reason and remember the night quite clearly), was when I was 19 years old and living as a lodger with a family, my "landlady" was the principal of a nearby school. Anyway, was at a party at my friends apartment, everyone left for a club but we decided to stay put as we knew we probably would be too intoxicated to get in.
I decide that I want to get some food, so I go off wandering around on my own looking for a fast food place. The area was pretty disadvantaged, very rough. Lots of petty crime and a fair few junkies. I find a food place, get food, and go back to the apartment. She lets me in, and then I discover I have no tomato sauce, I can't eat chips without tomato sauce, so off I go again. I end up at one of those 24 hours petrol stations, I genuinely thought it was a chipper of some sort. I ask for tomato sauce and end up buying one of the large plastic bottles that squirts the sauce out. I bought a load of random shit as well (like rice and stuff) that I must have dumped.
So, I make it back to the apartment complex, my friend was supposed to be waiting for me at the entrance area but she was not there. I'm ringing her, ringing her, keep ringing. No answer. I'm banging on the windows, every window I'm banging on, knocking on the door as well. It's like a ghost town, nobody is answering. Out of frustration, I start squirting the tomato sauce around the place, on the door and a good few of the windows, before finally throwing the ketchup bottle on the roof. I lay down by the door and try to sleep.
After awhile a man walks towards me, he says "what are you doing?". I tell him I'm trying to get into the apartment complex and he goes "but this isn't an apartment complex, this is a school". I look around and the apartment block has magically transformed into a school. Except it hadn't magically transformed into a school, it was always a school. And quite obviously so, too. Prefabs, hopscotch painted on the ground, a yard for sports and it just looked nothing like anything other than a school. I remember just standing there dumbfounded for about a minute or two, before accepting that it was not a school.
I wander around for at least another hour, completely lost. Manage to hail down a taxi, she says the fare will likely be 8 or 9 Euro. I empty my pockets and just have a load of change, thankfully the woman had some pity for me and brought me home anyway.
I wake up the next day, feeling awful and scared about what may have happened. When I'm eating breakfast my landlady (who was pretty friendly) starts talking about how delinquents had squirted tomato sauce all over the outside of the school where she works the night before. I spent the next week shitting bricks that they'd look over CCTV, but to the best of my knowledge they didn't.
Afterwards, I looked up the location of the school in relation to my friend's (turns out she had fallen asleep) apartment and it was about 2-3km away. I had walked that much away from the apartment.
The whole night caused me a lot of anxiety in the following days, partly because I knew I had made a complete tool of myself at the party, as well as the whole tomato sauce and possible CCTV.
Ah, not worth getting that messed up, fun memories though.