The Free Talk Live BBS
Free Talk Live => Guns, Drugs, and Crazy Independence Stuff => Topic started by: John Shaw on October 21, 2011, 12:19:42 PM
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*Slavering creepy voice*
Tell me about your first time sweeties...
What was it like? How did you feel? What were the circumstances? How old were you?
(http://www.campusbasement.com/uploads/creepy-guy.jpg)
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It was my 30th birthday (see user name). One of my co-workers smoked in her car every day at lunch (no idea why she told me) & she found out that I'd never imbibed. On my birthday, she showed up at my house with some weed and rolled a joint for me. I was a little nervous so she suggested smoking it in her car. I got nothing, because I can't fucking inhale. I didn't try again for 10 years.
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I'm one of those people that didn't get high the first time. I inhaled lots of it too.
It might have been because I was doing it in front of others and I had anxiety that made my brain protect itself.
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Halloween party when I was 18 or 19 years old. Didn't do much. Made me sleepy.
Felt great when I woke up in the morning though, really well rested, so maybe it calmed down much of my normal nighttime restlessness?
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14 or 15 years old- behind a church with some friends. Smoked a ton through high school, somehow my parents never really knew. I don't smoke now, no good reason as to why I don't I just don't.
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7th grade, so however old that is.
Was hanging out on the school playground one Saturday afternoon with my friend Mick (cant remember his last name) at the school icecream social, while the moms were doing whatever they do. We went all the way back to the end of the playground where it turns to woods. You walk through the woods maybe 60 ft and there was an old broken down barn with half a roof, so we headed out there to partake. Mick had the weed, I was just going along with the plan.
I remember having this feeling of impending doom...... like I was about to do something REALLY wrong and kinda had this sick feeling in my stomach. We climbed up into the rafters of the old barn, Mick lit the fucker up, we smoked, I coughed like a madman and about 5 minutes after that, that feeling of impending doom I was feeling went away completely and I couldn't even recall it even being there once it subsided.
So there we are, walking around the playground, aimlessly, talking about stuff that only two stoned 7th graders could talk about. All I remember is playing this game where one of us said a word and the other thought of a word that rhymed with it......... and we'd laugh our asses off. This went on for hours it seemed.
Then the spooky part came.............
One of our parents, I cant remember whos, was looking for us and noticed us out on the backlot and yelled for us to come back. Thats when reality hit. "Oh my god!! I'm HIGH, and I have to go back inside the school cafeteria where all the moms are hanging out!" It was a long walk relative to how slow my brain must have been going, but in reality, it was only about 3 minutes. So we get back inside and im sitting there next to my mom and WTF does Mick do? From across the room he looks at me with a big fat smile on his face and yells "MIKE..........ORANGE!!!"
I lost my shit right there. Laughing uncontrollably. I'm at the point now where I dont even care if I get found out because my stomach is hurting so much from laughing, its the last thing on my mind, which actually was probably the very thing that saved my ass from mom getting suspicious. She was naive about such things anyway, so my fear of getting busted was probably unwarranted to begin with. She thought I was just laughing at some joke Mick told me earlier.
All ended well and I went home and slept.
The end.
PS - The icecream was awesome
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Don't recall.
I recall my first bag, though.
A "friend" and I, who was one of those fringe-of-the-crew dudes, accidentally bumped into a deal. Not a dealer, just some clown who had a couple "eights", and oddly they weren't rip-offs.
So, I had most of the cash, and the friend ponied up five bucks.
We were about fifteen, and after buying said bag, didn't know where to go. So we wandered around on foot a while, and he's all "lemme see, lemme see!", and I wasn't having none of that. The guy was sort of a dipshit. Like, we were gonna stand there and inspect a bag right in the middle of the road.
It started to rain, and I had an unaccustomed flash of intelligence: The Garage!
There was an old abandoned garage in the cemetery near my house, all overgrown with weeds. Hard to get to because of picker-bushes, no way a car could plow through that shit.
The cemetery custodian used to store junk in there about a hundred years back, and it had since fallen into disrepair. It had a concrete floor and a high vaulted roof with broken out windows, and we used to go there in the winter to make fires in shelter from the wind.
So we trudged through the brambles in the rain and the dark, and eventually made it to The Garage. It was dark and foreboding, and we always stood there a while listening for the bigger kids who would take beer there and fuck.
After we deemed it safe to proceed, we pushed through the squalky side-door, and scrounged up some garbage to make a fire to see by, in a rusty old oil drum that served the purpose countless times.
We sat on a wooden work bench that was oil soaked and covered in mouse shit, and inspected our loot. Some surprisingly good nuggets, to be honest. To this day, I think I'd still pay thirty bucks for it.
So, we then went to work procuring a beer can, which were plentiful, and worked a nail loose from somewhere where a thing once hung in an orderly row of other non-existent things. A flourish of ingenuity, and voila, the can-pipe.
We smoked a lot of fucking pot that night, and when Ding-Dong wanted to take a cellophane home I told him to get bent.
We agreed to disagree, on the promise I'd get him baked again before the bag ran out. He was satisfied with that, on the presumption his mom would somehow find his stash.
So we left and parted ways, and the next morning I woke up, pleased as shit I had my very own bag. I decided to look at it, and couldn't find it. Panic set in, I was quite heartbroken my first bag was stolen or lost.
I went back to the only place I could think of, The Garage. And sure enough, there it was, laid out like a magazine ad for pot, right next to the bent can.
So I smoked up again, careful to put the bag in my pocket this time, and went looking for people to impress with my awesome new bag.
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yea, the ever available can pipe - many times!
I was 16 the first time - sophmore in high school. I lived in a small town in Texas and the high school was grades 10-12. It was an old building and it didn't have a lunch room or cafeteria.
Everyone had to either bring a bag lunch and sit on the steps or go out for lunch. This was in downtown Paris.
A guy that was a junior was one of the ones with a car. A 1968 Ford Galaxy and he had something I'd never seen before - a cassette tape player -Led Zeppelin and James Gang out the ass. Almost everyone else had 8 tracks.
Anyway, my buddy asked me to go with them for lunch one day and we smoked up - my first time. I got wasted. Couldn't stop laughing and shit.
Went back to class (it was Math with an old guy teacher) and all I could do was sit in the back and laugh my ass off. The teacher called me out on it and eventually made me leave his class.
Don't remember more about that day, but soon me and my friends went to "Jesse"s corner" at night to score a match box($5) of weed. Jesse's corner was in what was called nigger town and shitloads of people (mostly black) just sat around in this parking lot on their cars and drank and got high. This is a part of town that is literally old houses on stump posts with no skirting but nice chevy's and cadillacs in most driveways.
We went to the park and actually rolled several doobs out of the matchbox and got wasted. From then on....
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The highest I ever got on weed was not weed at all, but red hash in the back of a Ford Maverick.
I was new to smoking dope, and people would occasionally use the word "laced" - which in my experience nothing was ever laced. To this day, I never smoked dope laced with anything but bugspray.
But I remember sitting in the back of that Maverick, thinking "Wow, this shit has GOT to be laced with something." Older and wiser, I was just a dumbshit redneck, and it was just extremely good hash.
I can't figure out why hash was so prevalent in the eighties, and almost non-existent nowadays. Smuggling, I reckon. Pound-for-pound, a pound of hash is worth more than a pound of pot.
I miss hash. Some people hated it, personally, I loved the shit.
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I liked the high. Ever smoke with a drinking glass, a straight pin, and a playing card?
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I liked the high. Ever smoke with a drinking glass, a straight pin, and a playing card?
Yep.
Except it was a cork, a pin, and a "shooter" shotglass. (The extra-tall shotglass)
WE'd stick one of those flexible drinking straws under the glass, suck out the smoke. Its a good way to keep from coughing your goddamn lungs out.
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Memories..
Yea,like that.
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Alright, here's mine -
Sixth grade. Me, Chris Bugosh, Fred Setzke, Keith DeLacourt and I think C.W. Kitchen if memory recalls.
Recess.
I wasn't really friends with any of them. None of them were particularly jerks or anything but I didn't hang out with them usually.
So we're at recess, and Bugosh (Pronounced BOO Gosh) pulls out a joint.
I can't recite conversation as this was... I was eleven so that'd be 26 years ago.
Joint gets passed around. It appears that they all know what the fuck probably. I have no clue. ZERO. I'm fucking eleven and it's 1985.
Smoked it. Got told not to "N***** LIP" it. I have no idea what this means. Nothing happens. The other guys seem to chill and be friendly.
Recess ends.
We go inside and do a class activity where we were sitting in one of the extra rooms without desks in a circle in those little steel legged plastic formed chairs. We were all supposed to participate somehow in turn. I don't quite remember the specifics because as we get into the room and I go to pick out a seat
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME
So I keep getting nudges to stop acting weird by one of the other guys. May have been Bugosh or DeLacourt.
Teacher tells corny jokes and I am the only kid laughing out loud.
Teacher doesn't catch on but I'm fucking giggling up a storm and generally acting weird.
I didn't try weed again for another seven years. Tried it a few times in the 18-20 range along with all sorts of other stuff, and then another gap of fifteen years or so before trying again.
Most of what I remember was counting how many pairs of each brand of sneaker everyone was wearing. Many Adidas represented. Maybe some Reebok but they were new. One kid wore Troops IIRC. I only remember that because there was a rumor that Troops were owned by the KKK to make money offa black kids.
You know what? Just remembered something, I think Mr. Collins (The teacher) may have read us "The BFG" (Big friendly Giant" or "James and the Giant Peach" or something way too young for 6th graders and wanted us to talk about the story and everyone took turns. Hard to remember clearly.
So anyway that's the story.
EDIT - I think those were the same group of kids who fed me airline bottles of liquor until I was shitfaced over that same summer, later in the year.
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And addendum to my last post.
Newly found photographic evidence!:
A. Somewhere in this image is a picture of me. Look for the shit eating grin. (PROTIP, I am not wearing plaid) That picture was taken about a year later, and I was still coming down.
B. I was actually once a child.
C. In the bottom left image, the girl in the middle was my second kiss. I wasn't cool enough to hang out with her crowd but she liked to walk home with me and hold hands, and kissed me almost every day during the 7th grade. SPECIAL NOTE FOR MY BELOVED BRIDE BECAUSE THIS MAY BE ALL NEW TO HER - No tongue. We were good kids by today's standards.
I do not recall her name. It was Amy something. Maybe Suzy something. There was an Amy and a Suzy, that's all I know alright?
(http://chattypics.com/download.php?file=7thGrade_6jmni5hxpr.png)
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So I spent my first year of college trying to figure out what this "getting high" thing was all about. First time was at homecoming in the basement of the TKE house with a bunch of sixty-year-old dudes. Took a full rip off of a five foot bong. And... nothing.
Did that a couple dozen times. Half the time ended up puking in a parking lot. Sometimes would just pass out, once on the table in the middle of a poker game, once in a snow bank. The closest I probably got to a pleasant experience was when I found myself laughing hysterically in the cafeteria at a dude with a neck brace who dropped his fork.
Since then, I just smoke when I pull a muscle or something. One time it got me through a three-day golf tournament (handicapped - I suck at golf), not being able to walk otherwise, taking a pipe hit after every hole. Ended up coming in third place and won a few thousand bones.
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Thats a little young, even by my standards. (re: John)
Heres one that should horrify and repulse.
Somehow I managed to get my hands on some acid blotters. I think I was in tenth grade. Yin Yangs, or Camo hits. Doesn't matter.
So I'm sitting in some early period study hall. Maybe 3rd or 4th period.
The school I was in, we were divided by towns. The Uptown, middle town, and lower town. None of us strayed from our respective locales. There was a trivial rivalry, but being on bikes, it didn't result in much bullshit except at football games.
So in this early study hall, I popped a blotter on my tongue. I have no clue why. It was pure stupidity. Some of the older class were getting wheels and going to Dead shows, bringing back the hits.
This kid from the Lower town looks back at me, and we got along okay - or well enough.. And I flash my tongue with the blotter on it.
Well.. there goes the neighborhood. Notes start flying. Bell rings, and out the door I go. Pretty soon in the hallways, I start hearing whispered brasky brasky BRASKY brasky as people pass by. Then as I pass the Lav, one of the older classmen says Come Inside, and the door squeaks open ominously, and I can hear echoed laughter inside..
They all know. I'm fucking dead... Underclassmen are invitation only, sometimes for a beatdown, sometimes as an invitation to get high. (this was '88, and people smoked pot in there, bigtime)
If I run, I'm a pussy.
So, fuck it, I go inside. Its a tight gang of flannel and Dexter red-lace rock boots. The week before, someone got seriously pounded in there. Like, for real. I'm pretty freaked out.
This big tall fuck says "Hey, I hear you're trippin.. Am I melllltingggg???" I was like nah, I'm okay. It was just a half. In the background, people are making all these little cricket noises, bird noises, shh-shh-shh-haa-haa-haa, like in a horror movie...
Guy says "Got any more?" I says nah, I just had the one half. I had a couple more, but we dosed this weekend and I had a half left, so I ate the last of it.
He says "Lemme look at your eyes" I guess I was dilated, and that satisfied him. He says "Got any pot?" and I said no. He says "wanna wear the garbage can?" I say no.
Magically, out of nowhere, a big metal bowl appears. He says, take a few whacks, so I do. This kicks me off into the stratosphere.
He says "Look man, right now, theres a lot of shit floating around. We don't even trip in school. (meaning the bigger kids). If you spazzed out, they'd be watching all of us like a hawk."
(This is not verbatim, but the message is clear enough- no more acid in school - and I got it loud and clear)
After that, I was officially a Lav Rat, but never tripped in school again, until my senior finals - which I didn't give a shit about anyway.
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Cool story bro! In the for reals sense.
Thats a little young, even by my standards. (re: John)
I was born a poor black child.*
*FOR YOUNGER PEOPLE - This is a movie reference.
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So I spent my first year of college trying to figure out what this "getting high" thing was all about. First time was at homecoming in the basement of the TKE house with a bunch of sixty-year-old dudes. Took a full rip off of a five foot bong. And... nothing.
Did that a couple dozen times. Half the time ended up puking in a parking lot. Sometimes would just pass out, once on the table in the middle of a poker game, once in a snow bank. The closest I probably got to a pleasant experience was when I found myself laughing hysterically in the cafeteria at a dude with a neck brace who dropped his fork.
Since then, I just smoke when I pull a muscle or something. One time it got me through a three-day golf tournament (handicapped - I suck at golf), not being able to walk otherwise, taking a pipe hit after every hole. Ended up coming in third place and won a few thousand bones.
Funny, I figured you for more of a regular, less of an "Occasional". Maybe not now, as we're pushing forty.. But "back then."
I knew a few recreational users, but they weren't very common.
I took to it like a fish to water. My alcoholism only developed when I was restricted from herbage by job requirements. I hardly ever drank until I was early twenties. I'd shmooze the occasional kegger with red cups, but always stuck with the greens.
I fuckin hate alcohol.
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Cool story bro! In the for reals sense.
Thats a little young, even by my standards. (re: John)
I was born a poor black child.*
*FOR YOUNGER PEOPLE - This is a movie reference.
The Jerk.
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Acid, 1973 or maybe late 1972...
I wanted to try it - I was a junior in high school, North Lamar, just out of town in Paris.
Brenda, a sweet attractive blonde (out of my league) said she could help me out.
She gave me a hit of Orange Barrel - this was a small tablet. She said it would be a good idea to do it at school cuz I'd be around all my friends.
So, that morning, I took it just before I drove up to school. Saw Brenda in the parking lot, and she said: man, I thought about it and maybe its not such a good idea to do that at school. I said, now you tell me I dropped about 10 minutes ago.
Not to sound redundant but, it was math class again when it started coming on. Oh man, the visuals were hard to describe. But, just looking at the tile floor, I could see depth like I was in the sky looking down on skyscrapers. And funny, everything was funny as shit.
After that class, walking in the crowded hallway was like *jittery*. I had a good first trip. After that, in a new town, living on my own, that shit changed to some major paranoia, but that's a different story. Acid is hardcore! Good Acid that is, I had some of my son's in 2000 and it wasn't nearly the same. just the first part and then...nothing. The shit I did lasted a full 12 hours.
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A friend of mine in high school invited me to ditch with him to go smoke pot. I did. I went to a high school that was independent study, so this wasn't a big deal.
He drove us in his '65 Ford Fairlane (beautiful car) to some suburban community, and pulls a giant bong out of the glove compartment. The dude loads up the bong with a massive clump of green goodness, and lights up. I was nervous about being out in front of peoples houses, in a car smoking out of a bong, but I do it anyway.I cough like hell, and get a lot of shit for it. He laughs, and goes on a rant for the next 10 minutes about how much he doesn't like black people.
He drops me off at school, and I walk home. I'm fucked up the entire way, and can't think straight. It was such an awesome feeling, like an out of body experience. Its never been that good again.
To sum up, Ford Fairlane.
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I tried salvia many times before weed. I liked salvia more too. I dont really remember my first time (I'm not good at remembering events or peoples names, dunno why) but I'm sure it was in the dorm rooms at school, for both. We were buying salvia online and having it shipped straight to us because it was legal, but had to go to dealers to get weed. I have had way better experiences on salvia. The highest I've ever been on pot was probably this spring at a party. All I did was chill on a couch though and enjoy it before going home and crashing.
I pretty much drink or smoke occasionally and only when others are too. Never bought weed myself, just shared what people were offering. Am I a mooch for that?
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I don't find salvia very recreational.
That sounded like Russell Brand in my head.
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I don't find salvia very recreational.
That sounded like Russell Brand in my head.
You were probably doing it wrong. You have to build up a reverse-tolerance to it to get anything from it. And when you do WOOOOOoO
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I can not really remember my first time smoking, I am sure it was around 13/14 sitting behind the pompous grass at my friends house hittin a red graffix bong the neighbor would bring over every day after school. I don't really smoke often, it just makes me mellow the fuck out and want to take a nap.
The hash in Amsterdam however made me giggle at 80s music videos for hours before going to bed.
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You don't need pot to laugh at 80's music videos.
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You don't need pot to laugh at 80's music videos.
for the amount of time I even tolerated watchin them, yes I did need the hash haha
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Prolog:
I was 19, just started engineering school, just started "trading wares" for the computer with some friends I'd met on BBS systems in the area (you used to have to dial into people's computers, etc.)
We had this group that liked to cart our computers all over to one guy's house (we'd take turns hosting--this was before "LAN parties") and play video games. Well, we got to watching movies like Repo Man, and the like, and drinking beer and hanging out at the Tommy's (LA area) and coding, etc.
Meat of the story:
One night, someone broke out a joint, and passed it around. I remember taking a few puffs, and...nothing...a few more puffs, and I'm feeling pretty good. Don't remember if I'd had any beer. I remember seeing everyone's face kinda distorted and everyone laughing a lot, and everything being sorta like in slow motion. I remember telling them "gee, it's like everything's 300 baud." (It would take a long time to explain, if you don't get it--suffice to say, most people can read text faster than 300 baud, which was the rate at which text came through most modems at the time.) Everybody laughed like hell.
Then (not having been told to chill before taking more hits, and having taken about four, I suppose) I started feeling fairly sick, I sorta had time-distortion and jittery effects, passed out, and didn't try it again for something like 25 years.
Epilog:
Around 25 years later, I read that it might help my newly-diagnosed spinal pain condition. Colorado had recently passed their MMJ constitutional amendment. I bought a pipe and spent two or three weeks trying to figure out where to score some, because I really didn't know any potheads, in my 40s, and hadn't decided to pursue a doctor's note yet. Finally scored some at a park downtown, and pretty much did the same stupid thing again.
Tried it a few more times and decided I hated smoking, but that it seemed to work well for the pain. Got the doctor's note, bought several vaporizers until I found the ones I liked, got a cookie recipe, and lived happily ever after (except the pain still sucks, though it makes me SCREAM less when I have a cookie or vape, or take a tincture.)
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Marijuana Reverend Horton Heat (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTUx1zsQHfo#)
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Outstanding thread. This would make a fun on-air topic.
I was 16 and had been convinced by my school friends to try pot. I'd already tried alcohol and was convinced by them that pot was a better choice. It was decided that we'd go to a friend's house when his parents wouldn't be home. I was paranoid as fuck in advance - worried the cops were going to catch us somehow.
A joint was rolled up with part of a bible page. It was smoked. I got high. Don't recall many specifics, but everyone liked it so much we were rolling up pinners and scraping some off the floor.
It was the start of a beautiful relationship that led me down a very important road. I owe so much to this wonderful plant.
:mrgreen:
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I was 16- A friend brought over a joint on thanksgiving and we smoked it in my closet before dinner. I remember justifying the smoking of it in my room because my mother has no sense of smell and "what the hell, my parents are reformed hippies" I didn't think about my Dad though....and luckily in later years came to discover that he occasionally imbibes at Jimmy Buffet concerts; as I found him high and lost in the parking lot one year. He also smoked right next to me at A Rolling Stones concert when I was 13....but I was dumb and just wondered what was so stinky. Many years later, my brother told me.
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Did anyone ever cut the bottom off of a gallon jug of milk or a 2 liter soda bottle, fill the bathtub and use it as a giant gravity bong?
me neither.....
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I love the show,I have only been listening for a short time. The first time I tried getting high was when I was 14. I was visiting my cousin in Nashua New Hampshire.
A friend of my cousins kept asking me if I wanted to try some pot.It was 1973 ,of course I wanted to try some pot.Anyways every time we would get away from my couin,his friend would take out his bag of weed and put some in a bowl,but every time we tried to smoke,my cousin would find us and threaten to tell his mother.He was 15 but hadn`t tried weed yet and had this idea that when you smoked pot you would freak out and start puking all over the place.
I was in Nashua for the whole summer and never got to smoke any weed,but when I came back to NY a friend of mine got me high.I don`t live anywhere near NYC I lived in a really small town in central NY I still live in the same general area,NY state sucks ass.Iam going to get out of NY one day I hope. :lol:
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Did anyone ever cut the bottom off of a gallon jug of milk or a 2 liter soda bottle, fill the bathtub and use it as a giant gravity bong?
me neither.....
Of course I have.
Back before Dave Grohl was in the Foo Fighters.
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Did anyone ever cut the bottom off of a gallon jug of milk or a 2 liter soda bottle, fill the bathtub and use it as a giant gravity bong?
me neither.....
No, but we DID make a giant hookah out of a He Man Castle Greyskull, a Pepsi can, silicone sealant and some aquarium tubing.
(http://www.he-man.org/assets/images/collect_toy/castlegrayskullus.jpg)
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My first time smoking, I was 13, and it was mid school year, and my Dad decided I should know what it was (which I already did, but had never tried), and that I should do it at home where I'm unlikely to get arrested. Me, my Step-Mom, my Uncle, my Step-Sister, and a good family friend all took turns passing around an awesome bong. We pulled rips for about an hour, and I was so stoned that I just went into my room and passed out. Over all I had a pretty good time, other than my dad being an obnoxious dick. Now, (since I'm only 16) I smoke semi-regularly, which is whenever I can afford to get something other than schwag.
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Marvin Gaye "What's Going On / What's Happening Brother" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9KC7uhMY9s#)
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I've never smoked pot and probably never will. I grew up in an extremely religious home and went in toe Marine Corps at 17. No way I was ever going to touch it in either of those two environments. Now that I'm over 21 I'm bored with the entire party scene. And I probably won't ever smoke it just so I can say that I never have. Just like I've never eaten a corn dog.
Instead I started with LSD back in my youthfull rave days and progressed from there to anything that would be out of my system in a short period of time or untestable by a UA.
So much for the "gate-way drug" argument. 8)
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I have tried pot, didn't work for me. I am scared of LSD and such.
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Smoke some FUCKIN' WEED
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Smoke some FUCKIN' WEED
I love that after 2 years, and 8 posts, this is what you decide to say.
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Smoke some FUCKIN' WEED
I love that after 2 years, and 8 posts, this is what you decide to say.
ROFLCOPTER You win, like, 1,000,000 internets.
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I was 14. I don't ever remember discussions about drugs with my parents, but both of my parents are alcoholics and my mother had gone through a bout of cocaine addiction several years earlier. Everyone assumed I had already done it. I had, after all, stood in front of my 7th grade Language Arts class and read a paper that I had written on why it should be legalized, so no one believed me when I told them I had never even tried it.
A friend of my mom's was staying with us at the time. (RIP, Tommy.) He had a bunch of joints rolled and stored in a glass next to the pull out bed he slept in. Just off hand one day he let me know I was welcome to it at any time. I believe it was the next day, or the next weekend, that a friend and I tried it for the first time. Don't remember much about it other than that.
As for LSD, I remember when I was 17 years old I nannied a little girl. She had gotten very sick and was spending a few days with her grandmother, so a friend (the same as before) and I decided to try it. Imagine - a little girl's bedroom with a light blue carpet and stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling. A small toddler-sized bed, a little play kitchen. I swear I could see purple fibers in the carpet. :-) I was quite out of it.
We walk out of the room into the dining room - white walls, brown carpet, wooden table and chairs. Just the change of scenery immediately made us feel sober. Walk back into the little gir's room and we'd be out of it again. It was like entering/exiting Wonderland.
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I was 21 the first time i smoked, i had been around it a bit before that but not much. When i wasin HS i was completely tricked by DARE.
I was out at work with a friend in the middle of nowhere, sterilizing the ground on oil and gas well sites. He had some green and we went about finding a way of smoking it. we came across a metal pen and smoked up. I dont remember ever feeling anything. a week or two later i was working with a guy who has smoked all day everyday since the seventies. smoking with him was the first time i ever got high. i had no wayto judge time and felt a little out of it, but it felt so good.
This was the beginning of my love affair with miss mary jane