55 lines
3.2 KiB
Plaintext
55 lines
3.2 KiB
Plaintext
By the time I recieved my first zip, I had been under the
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dank, drank, and shrooms for a good glorious two years.
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I had never recieved so much green stuff at one time. All that
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sticky, filthy, glowing bud. My partner stared intensely at
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the brick, mouth gaped open looking like a zombie, them eyes
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stretched open, red veins and stuff exposed. It seemed like he
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was going to drool. I fingered through it, getting my hands
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covered with the sparkling crystals. BEAUTIFUL. Honestly,
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there is no feeling in the world that compares to a fat ounce
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of skunk bud resting in your hands. It didn't take long before
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we journeyed to the nearest park. Whipped out our 2 footer...
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took a good chunk and packed it. We closed the curtains to our
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72' Chevy Deluxe van. My palms were sweatin like a madman. I
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was anxious to get the smoke up into my lungs. This 2 footer
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is like no other. Dual chamber with them tubes coming out of
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every which way. When you rip the carb, INTENSE amounts of
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smoke bum-rush your awaiting lungs. This brick's kind was
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smooth & potent-for me it was one toke bud. After we tandemed
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the bong for a good half-hour, the vision in the van
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dissipated as well as the air supply. We had Neil Young's
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Harvest CD on the Sony. Old man echoed through my head, almost
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ear-splitting, but at the same time, euphoric. I started
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bobbing my head to the tunes, when my friend collapsed.
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Thinking he was playing, I continued to trip to the tunes. It
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seemed like eternity, the music went on endlessly. For me,
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this was a true , justifying symptom of a true high. I was
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satisfied with the bud and decided that I should indulge. So I
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packed my party bowl and hit it solo. I couldn't even see the
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front bucket seats. Dense smoke, feeling like I was sitting in
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heaven. The tunes stopped. I crawled towards the front of the
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van on all fours to get the tunes going. As I ventured towards
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the dash, I kneed my friend up in the head. He was out. "Fuck
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him" I thought. I slipped in the first CD I grabbed my hands
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on. I stumbled back to my friend to check on him. I sat him
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upright and loaded another bowl. The high at this point, hit
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the prime. Movements were very slow and I needed to put a
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great deal of effort just to move. I heard birds tweeting and
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heard things getting whipped. It sounded and felt like I was
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in a rainforest or a crazy hectic jungle. Birds, I wanted to
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find them. My thoughts were so unorganized, I started banging
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my head on the roof. I was going hysterical. God damn birds,
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where they coming from. I lit the bowl, the bud flared, I
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fingered the bud to dense it. I left my finger in the burning
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bowl, for who knows how long? All I know that I had a black
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and blue finger the next morning. I couldn't breath! Air...Air
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I blew all the second hand smoke into my friends face. Hoping
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he would get high while passed out. I slapped him repeatedely
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in the face. Birds and thunder... the hell? From all
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directions... Where? DAMNIT!!! I socked my fried in the gut...
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Food, liquid...Things went nuts from there... The next thing I
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know, it's 5:00 on my watch. No way that was possible.. so I
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took a peep out the glass. MORNING????? My friend and I had a
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fattie influence trip all day and night until sunrise. FATTIE
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BUD. That bud was soon shared with the LOM crew the same day.
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