names have been changed to protect the guilty

This is where I'll be putting all my day's activities here at the university I live at, and given as I'm a heavy pot smoker and beginning to experiment into other things, I think it's pretty safe to say that I don't want anyone knowing who me or my friends really are. I'm giving everyone wa-wa-wa-wacky names like "Jew-boy" and "Mr. Crazypants" based on how much I like or dislike the given person. It'll be easier to remember them than if I just switched them to random other names.

My name's Liam. That at least is true. Recently I've felt privileged to share the name of Liam Neeson, who kicks the fucking ass of just about everyone in the whole Goddamn world in the awesome movie "Taken," which I would seriously tell you to go see. Right now. It's that fucking good.

Things you should know about me: Until very recently, I was an extreme, nearly immune to recovery, turbo-nerd. Seriously, I played in tabletop RPGs three nights a week, played two MMOs (EVE Online and World of WarCraft), and generally spent all my time staring at a screen as opposed to actually, I don't fucking know, doing things. This sucked, but there it was.

Three and a half months ago, through rediscovery of my best friend SCIENCE (because he...uh...loves his science, he loves bugs and fish), he introduced me to pot, along with his dealer friend Bigmofo. 'Cause that mofo's huge. And my quality of life has been increasing ever since, even if my money has been rapidly vanishing directly or indirectly because of it. But still, what price can be put on a better life?

I should check to see if those lotto tickets I bought when I was feeling invincible actually won anything. That'd be the icing on the cake.

Anyway, these are sort of my exploits. I'll start with yesterday because nothing interesting has yet happened today. Well, fuck, it's 10:40 a.m., I can't expect anything THAT interesting. Maybe I should smoke a bowl...?

Fuck it. Gimme a minute.

*grind*
*pack*
*puff*
*cough*

First puff causes three minutes of coughing and choking. First puff, for me, always does this, whether I took a baby hit off a joint of regs or a monstrous bong rip of some fiery chronic. I guess it's just one of those things. I've learned to deal with all the hacking, and I'm generally fine after the first one anyway. (Afterwards, I like to joke "And why do I do it? Because I love it so much.")

Goddammit, I knocked my grinder over and it still had a few crumbs left in it, maybe half a bowl. I just had to carefully hold it and brush the crumbs off my pants into the grinder bowl. Maybe I'm being lazy or paranoid or something, I just don't like wasting money. Or pot. It's more or less the same thing.


Anyway, yeah, events of yesterday. Yesterday was ballin' because I didn't sleep at all Saturday night, so I was feeling amazing on Sunday, as you can imagine. I took a nature walk and ended up having this big emotional experience which led me to write one of the fruitier things I've ever seen, which you can see on my fictionpress account...in two fucking days, when they decide to let me actually publish something. Tightwad arseholes don't let you post any stories for the first 48 hours "to reduce spam". Motherfuckers. Oh well, it's pretty gay, as I said. Still, if you're female or in touch with your emotional side and don't mind hearing about a guy blabbing on about his, you would probably like it.

But that was just the beginning. On the way back I climbed into a small ravine with a river through it. My university campus is full of clumps of nature we can go through and explore, one of the reasons I like the place. And I explored it. That's my new thing, exploring nature, as I said. Unfortunately, I had to play the "Will this fucking log support my weight?" game, and I failed.

*crack*
SPLOOSH
"MOTHERFUCK!"

Asphalt burns your skin off if you have to walk on it because your shoes are too squishy.

Then my friend Aragorn (Lord of the Rings scholar) came over and we smoked a couple of bowls, then played Rock Band 2 with the rest of the people who were over at my house. For some reason, probably because I have Rock Band 2, my apartment, which I always refer to as "my house" because I don't give a shit, is like party central. But not in a good way.

Most of my friends...well, they're very nice people, and I won't say a word against the choices they've made, it's just...they're really nerdy. And I realize that I was just like this until, like, two weeks ago. I'm still pretty bad, but I'm getting better. When I decided to change, I now see them for the unchanging blobs they are.

Point is, their idea of a party consists of minimal alcohol and party games, like Mafia, with the cards and shit. Nice people, no idea how to have fun, you know? But I digress.

Holy shit, I realize I may have just retarded some of their social development. None of them in the nerd group smoke or are willing to smoke, most of them actively dislike it. I can't bring them up with me because now I represent the evil stoner archetype. Goddammit, but people will not allow me to help them.

But I digress. Wait, hold on, bowl's unfinished.

*puff*

Well, this'll make poetry class a little more bearable than it usually is. Hopefully I'll arrive merely introspective and not actively goofy.

Woo, little chance of that. But on I go.

We went to downstairs and mixed a bit, but our presence was pretty awkward, because a friend of mine was visiting from a nearby university and chose to make many disparaging comments about me and pot, so...y'know. That sucked. So we left.

Went to a forest, actually. A big forest. Which I majorly appreciated. And, of course, more important even than that, a forest in which I could maneuver. Lotta the nature around my campus is swamp, and most of the time there's a path, but when there isn't, it's tough as shit to navigate in a swamp. Mud and poison oak everywhere.

Climbed trees, walked across massive log bridges, all sorts of fucking entertainment. This was when I was having a most peculiar experience. My lack of sleep was manifesting itself as extreme body fatigue, in which I'd sort of feel droopy and randomly lose strength in my limbs, instead of mental fatigue. But my mind was hampered by the marijuana, so...it was completely fucked up. It was like an opiate high, what I imagine one of those must feel like. My body felt like it was made of wax and melting, and I could barely talk.

Then we drove much, much further away to...something. There was a windmill, and an art shop, which was closed. I don't know why Aragorn decided to take me there, especially considering how far away it was.

There was this great scenery which I really wanted to explore, but there was a barbed-wire fence around it. So we tried to sneak around, but just as we went past a mobile home, a fucking Doberman leaps out and starts attacking us. Mostly him. A God damned Doberman, on a leash that didn't seem to be attached to anything.

Fortunately, it didn't bite us or anything, it was just sort of jumping and barking. But still, a Doberman. They're like the iconic shit-your-pants scary attack dogs. The guy came out and hauled the dog in, and we talked, in which we apologized for more or less trespassing on his land and he apologized for terrifying us with his dog.

"There's been thieves around," he said, as he hauled in the dog's leash. "That's why people are nervous." It was obvious that he knew we weren't thieves. I was in cargo shorts and sandals, for God's sake. Still, he reminded me of the old gatekeeper from the first Lord of the Rings movie, at the gate of Bree: "There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful." Seemed just like him.

Then we drove home and basically said back and forth "A fucking Doberman. Shit. Fuck. A Doberman!" We were pretty baked. We couldn't believe it. It was just like in the TV shows, and we didn't even have to get savagely mauled. Worked out perfectly.

Then I came home and fell asleep very quickly, despite not working on my website like I should have done. Shit...this is starting to get serious. I need more time. Tuesday's gonna be a bitch and a half. This is probably on account of not sleeping. There's going to be no time for bullshitting today. I have to get a lot of crap done in a short amount of time. Shouldn't smoke at all, past this one. I've got to get shit done.

Right. That strengthens my resolve. No more, past what I currently have ground. And that's maybe a third of a bowl, after spillage. I'll barely notice it. No more until Thursday and this hellish week is done. That'll be the longest break I'll have taken in three weeks or more.

Aargh, I'm never going to be able to afford to buy in large quantities again. I'll go fucking bankrupt.

Anyway, maybe I'll update tonight, if anything interesting happens.

Good to see y'all. Hopefully someone listens.