Fell asleep. Of course I did, I was awake all night in the goddamned hospital. But I smoked two bowls, and...wow. What an experience.
It was like my body turned into...plastic. Every part of me was tingling, and I didn't want to move even a little bit. I was just completely dead to the world. Then, I guess, I fell asleep. Currently the pain is starting up again, slowly, so I'm going to go and get that prescription filled out as soon as possible.
Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention about the doctor's office? They took urine from me, expected. They took blood from me, expected. Then the doctor said, somewhat apologetically, that she'd have to do one last test. She then pulled out a very long, thin Q-Tip.
Me: "What's that f-awwwwwww."
Yeah. That was about as pleasant as you could imagine it being. Of course, I was already Percocet'd at the time, so it was mostly like "Aaaargh ow ow ow ow-how-how! ... Sparkles!"
Saturday, April 25, 2009
pain = bad, painkillers = good, why are killers good?
Sorry about the lack of updates recently, to my, er, reader. But I've been crippled with agonizing abdominal pain for quite some time now, all week. It started getting really bad Thursday, hence the lack of updates. But last night, that all changed.
Last night, it got so bad I went to the ER, where I waited for five hours fifteen before I saw the doctor. The highlights of that experience included:
- Trying desperately to find a comfortable position on the crappy waiting room chairs, to no avail
- Enjoying watching someone light a cigarette directly under a "No Smoking" sign
- Watched The Boondocks on the in-room TV once I got a room, around 4:45 or so
- Figured out that the pain was not, in fact, stomach pain, but probably kidney or bladder-related. This isn't good news, but it at least tells me why my stomach-centric cure attempts haven't been working.
- Got a scrip for Percocets, and a free sample right there in the doctor's office.
The Percs are the important part. I only got 10, but that should be more than enough to last me until my appointment early next week. These things are...great. I don't feel the slightest hint of pain from the area that was killing me all week long. I also feel a bit giddy and fun, and silly. Not extremely, but...some.
I wonder how weed reacts with these things? Guess it's time to find out.
Last night, it got so bad I went to the ER, where I waited for five hours fifteen before I saw the doctor. The highlights of that experience included:
- Trying desperately to find a comfortable position on the crappy waiting room chairs, to no avail
- Enjoying watching someone light a cigarette directly under a "No Smoking" sign
- Watched The Boondocks on the in-room TV once I got a room, around 4:45 or so
- Figured out that the pain was not, in fact, stomach pain, but probably kidney or bladder-related. This isn't good news, but it at least tells me why my stomach-centric cure attempts haven't been working.
- Got a scrip for Percocets, and a free sample right there in the doctor's office.
The Percs are the important part. I only got 10, but that should be more than enough to last me until my appointment early next week. These things are...great. I don't feel the slightest hint of pain from the area that was killing me all week long. I also feel a bit giddy and fun, and silly. Not extremely, but...some.
I wonder how weed reacts with these things? Guess it's time to find out.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
psychological ramblings
Is it wrong to value art and skill even when it's worst applied?
I heard some guy talking about his fiancee, who had developed post-traumatic stress disorder from being in a, his words here, "physically, sexually and emotionally abusive relationship" previous to her current one. Apparently the previous dude messed her up so bad that she now suffers from nausea, nightmares, anxiety, neuropathic pain, depression, panic attacks, insomnia, emotional detachment and general numbness.
And I thought to myself "Wow, that guy must really know how to get under someone's skin. I mean, hot damn, causing all that must take extraordinary skill. He could be a psychologist."
And then I thought "Um, that wasn't the point to the story at all, also I'm a monster."
It's not like I'm not aware that doing all that to another person was terrible, and it's not like I don't appreciate how monstrous it really was, but on some level I just can't help but be amazed.
So why is this? Shouldn't I be more upset by the evil people cause rather than how well they wielded it? This isn't the first, or the twentieth, time that this sort of analysis has just popped up in my head. It's starting to seriously freak me out.
Anyway, yesterday was relatively boring. Smoked a lot, hung around all night, tried to get started on laundry, failed, got overcome with boredom and despair, realized I'm just substituting my problems rather than accepting them (in that even if I suspend myself from the one website I always waste all my time at, I just found another one to do that at), and went to bed.
Now I'm finishing up the laundry, at least, it'll be done drying in half an hour. So at least that's done. I also have to re-write a story for my journalism class. Whoopee. That's gonna take me...pshh, no time at all.
But, yeah. Whatever.
I heard some guy talking about his fiancee, who had developed post-traumatic stress disorder from being in a, his words here, "physically, sexually and emotionally abusive relationship" previous to her current one. Apparently the previous dude messed her up so bad that she now suffers from nausea, nightmares, anxiety, neuropathic pain, depression, panic attacks, insomnia, emotional detachment and general numbness.
And I thought to myself "Wow, that guy must really know how to get under someone's skin. I mean, hot damn, causing all that must take extraordinary skill. He could be a psychologist."
And then I thought "Um, that wasn't the point to the story at all, also I'm a monster."
It's not like I'm not aware that doing all that to another person was terrible, and it's not like I don't appreciate how monstrous it really was, but on some level I just can't help but be amazed.
So why is this? Shouldn't I be more upset by the evil people cause rather than how well they wielded it? This isn't the first, or the twentieth, time that this sort of analysis has just popped up in my head. It's starting to seriously freak me out.
Anyway, yesterday was relatively boring. Smoked a lot, hung around all night, tried to get started on laundry, failed, got overcome with boredom and despair, realized I'm just substituting my problems rather than accepting them (in that even if I suspend myself from the one website I always waste all my time at, I just found another one to do that at), and went to bed.
Now I'm finishing up the laundry, at least, it'll be done drying in half an hour. So at least that's done. I also have to re-write a story for my journalism class. Whoopee. That's gonna take me...pshh, no time at all.
But, yeah. Whatever.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
holy shit, what a fuckin' holiday that was
I weeded it up so God damn much yesterday. Let's sum up:
1. In the morning around 11:00 when I finally woke up, smoked a bowl or two
2. When Aragorn and his friend (gotta ask what he wants his fake name to be) showed up, smoked two bowls, then did the mighty deed of topping a small bowl with a thick layer of kief from my kief catcher. God damn almighty was that amazing. It was like fire and lightning inside my lungs...in a good way. It was like a party in my mouth and everyone was going Super Saiyan.
3. We went over to Aragorn's house, smoked a couple of joints and a bowl, then celebrated 4:20 p.m. on 4/20 in the proper fashion - each of us got a pipe or a bong and did simultaneous hits, tried to hold it for the whole minute. Only Aragorn came close. Then we rotated until we got too dizzy to continue.
4. As if all that wasn't enough, I snuck out during a lull in the Exalted game I promised my roommate Mr. Crazypants ('cause he's fuckin' loopy, but a good guy) I'd show up to and smoked a quick bowl in the forest near the student union. Now, there's not much forest to speak of near the student union, so I was barely concealed, and that ratcheted up my ol' pot paranoia, but it managed to work out. I had to abandon the last hit or two from the bowl and dump it out, though, after my stomach viciously complained and my paranoia got the best of me.
5. After the game, I went over to my friend's house, where we smoked two more bowls, and I again topped the second with a thick powdery layer of kief. Similar effect. Then I had some caffeine pills.
Then I spent a long time gradually falling asleep before I agreed (more or less with myself) to wake up early to study for the test I have in an hour and a half. I woke up reasonably early and prepared to do this, only to find two problems:
1. One of my jackass roommates clogged the toilet and won't admit to doing it. I know it wasn't me, because going number 1 and leaving a single square of TP in the bowl is not going to clog anything, yet those devils refuse to own up. Unless one of the creepy old guys that live in my apartment complex snuck in and took a massive dump in our toilet, it was clearly one of them, yet they all shy away from actually fucking fixing it. I've had to walk to a gas station just to take a shit in the last few hours. That fucking sucks. Doesn't strictly have anything to do with the test, but it sucks.
2. There is, apparently, nothing to study for for this test. He didn't assign any chapters from the book, didn't bother to put any of the notes online, and I'll basically have to guess my way through or read someone else's notes. Oh well, I'll just arrive early and devour someone else's notes who was actually there a good percentage of the time, as opposed to me. Woo.
On a sad note, I may not be able to get this camping trip off the ground, which is a terrible shame since I wanted to go camping so very badly. I'll have to talk to Kungfuman (who doesn't know kung fu but I met him in my kung fu film study class) and see if he's still interested, and if he knows anyone else who is, because otherwise I'm not going to be able to go. Which would make me very bitter, because I was looking forward to it.
Oh, well. At least I've been wandering in the woods like a jackass a lot recently. That's probably what I'll do all Thursday and Friday, if I don't go home with SCIENCE like I might. Can't really say, just yet. I feel like I should go see my parents, yet there's never enough time to, and Aragorn promised to take me to his hometown that weekend so I could pick up a quarter pound of mids (yes, mids, but still) for $220. That is not fucking bad in the slightest. Yeah, even I can't smoke four ounces, especially with stems and seeds in, but I don't know, I might be able to work something out here. Especially with cooking, yes, cooking will be prodigious.
1. In the morning around 11:00 when I finally woke up, smoked a bowl or two
2. When Aragorn and his friend (gotta ask what he wants his fake name to be) showed up, smoked two bowls, then did the mighty deed of topping a small bowl with a thick layer of kief from my kief catcher. God damn almighty was that amazing. It was like fire and lightning inside my lungs...in a good way. It was like a party in my mouth and everyone was going Super Saiyan.
3. We went over to Aragorn's house, smoked a couple of joints and a bowl, then celebrated 4:20 p.m. on 4/20 in the proper fashion - each of us got a pipe or a bong and did simultaneous hits, tried to hold it for the whole minute. Only Aragorn came close. Then we rotated until we got too dizzy to continue.
4. As if all that wasn't enough, I snuck out during a lull in the Exalted game I promised my roommate Mr. Crazypants ('cause he's fuckin' loopy, but a good guy) I'd show up to and smoked a quick bowl in the forest near the student union. Now, there's not much forest to speak of near the student union, so I was barely concealed, and that ratcheted up my ol' pot paranoia, but it managed to work out. I had to abandon the last hit or two from the bowl and dump it out, though, after my stomach viciously complained and my paranoia got the best of me.
5. After the game, I went over to my friend's house, where we smoked two more bowls, and I again topped the second with a thick powdery layer of kief. Similar effect. Then I had some caffeine pills.
Then I spent a long time gradually falling asleep before I agreed (more or less with myself) to wake up early to study for the test I have in an hour and a half. I woke up reasonably early and prepared to do this, only to find two problems:
1. One of my jackass roommates clogged the toilet and won't admit to doing it. I know it wasn't me, because going number 1 and leaving a single square of TP in the bowl is not going to clog anything, yet those devils refuse to own up. Unless one of the creepy old guys that live in my apartment complex snuck in and took a massive dump in our toilet, it was clearly one of them, yet they all shy away from actually fucking fixing it. I've had to walk to a gas station just to take a shit in the last few hours. That fucking sucks. Doesn't strictly have anything to do with the test, but it sucks.
2. There is, apparently, nothing to study for for this test. He didn't assign any chapters from the book, didn't bother to put any of the notes online, and I'll basically have to guess my way through or read someone else's notes. Oh well, I'll just arrive early and devour someone else's notes who was actually there a good percentage of the time, as opposed to me. Woo.
On a sad note, I may not be able to get this camping trip off the ground, which is a terrible shame since I wanted to go camping so very badly. I'll have to talk to Kungfuman (who doesn't know kung fu but I met him in my kung fu film study class) and see if he's still interested, and if he knows anyone else who is, because otherwise I'm not going to be able to go. Which would make me very bitter, because I was looking forward to it.
Oh, well. At least I've been wandering in the woods like a jackass a lot recently. That's probably what I'll do all Thursday and Friday, if I don't go home with SCIENCE like I might. Can't really say, just yet. I feel like I should go see my parents, yet there's never enough time to, and Aragorn promised to take me to his hometown that weekend so I could pick up a quarter pound of mids (yes, mids, but still) for $220. That is not fucking bad in the slightest. Yeah, even I can't smoke four ounces, especially with stems and seeds in, but I don't know, I might be able to work something out here. Especially with cooking, yes, cooking will be prodigious.
Monday, April 20, 2009
travels in the woods
Yesterday, there really wasn't much to talk about. I spent more or less the whole day slouching about in the woods near Bigmofo's house (it's a nature preserve, very nice stuff) and didn't really accomplish anything. Which is annoying, because I had planned to study for my test tomorrow and do my laundry, but I ran out of energy and fell asleep in my chair. This is probably a combination of the fact that weed fatigues me and walking around in the hot sun all day knocks me the fuck out, so, yeah.
I'll have to get both of those done today, which is going to be a little tricky seeing as it's 4/20, that greatest of days. In fact, I've been up for nearly a full hour and I'm not high yet - I'm disgracing the holiday.
One of the things I did yesterday was encounter a kid in the woods. I say kid because he was 17, and I'm nearly 21, so I tend to think of anyone younger than 18 as a kid. After much conversation, he told me that he knew some people who were willing to buy pot from me at reasonably high prices, telling me that high schoolers pay a lot more for weed than college kids would. Which is probably true.
At the time, I thought this was the greatest thing ever, but I was pretty high and didn't realize all the implications. After talking with Bigmofo (who is, as you may recall, a dealer) and my sister (who lived for a decade on the streets, prostituting herself and shooting heroin and generally getting involved in all kinds of bad situations), they both convinced me that I should stay the fuck away from high schoolers. Way worse legal trouble if I get caught, and the potential to get my ass kicked and have lots of money or weed stolen from me.
Fuck. Being a dealer, to hear Bigmofo describe it, is ridiculously profitable but considerably dangerous. He told me about three friends of his - one who got held up at gunpoint, one who had $4,000 stolen from his house, and one who was "set up" and is now spending 20 years in prison. I'm wondering if it's worth it or if I should just stick with my original strategy of submitting myself to medical experimentation and selling my blood plasma like I usually do.
I don't know. It's all pretty complicated. At the end of the day, I need money, and I really, really, REALLY do not want to have to take a regular near-minimum-wage job to deal with it. I'll take out student loans if I have to, I just really, seriously do not want to deal with another GameStop job. I worked at GameStop on and off for four years.
I would not recommend this to anyone. Not that GameStop is that bad an employer - though they have their moments - but working for minimum wage, or close to it, basically working retail at all is beneath my dignity as a fucking human being. I don't pretend that I'm better than people who work retail, I just believe that I've done my time in retail hell and no more for me.
Hmm. I reread that and it still comes off as arrogant. Oh well, fuck it, it's what I believe. I'm sick of moderating myself so that people don't cry and get offended.
Gonna weed it up today, and keeping a couple of 6-Hour Powers around to help stave off fatigue. I tried these 6-Hour Powers because it's basically spitting in the eye of 5-Hour Energy, and I want to know if they have the oomph to back up their boldness.
I'll have to get both of those done today, which is going to be a little tricky seeing as it's 4/20, that greatest of days. In fact, I've been up for nearly a full hour and I'm not high yet - I'm disgracing the holiday.
One of the things I did yesterday was encounter a kid in the woods. I say kid because he was 17, and I'm nearly 21, so I tend to think of anyone younger than 18 as a kid. After much conversation, he told me that he knew some people who were willing to buy pot from me at reasonably high prices, telling me that high schoolers pay a lot more for weed than college kids would. Which is probably true.
At the time, I thought this was the greatest thing ever, but I was pretty high and didn't realize all the implications. After talking with Bigmofo (who is, as you may recall, a dealer) and my sister (who lived for a decade on the streets, prostituting herself and shooting heroin and generally getting involved in all kinds of bad situations), they both convinced me that I should stay the fuck away from high schoolers. Way worse legal trouble if I get caught, and the potential to get my ass kicked and have lots of money or weed stolen from me.
Fuck. Being a dealer, to hear Bigmofo describe it, is ridiculously profitable but considerably dangerous. He told me about three friends of his - one who got held up at gunpoint, one who had $4,000 stolen from his house, and one who was "set up" and is now spending 20 years in prison. I'm wondering if it's worth it or if I should just stick with my original strategy of submitting myself to medical experimentation and selling my blood plasma like I usually do.
I don't know. It's all pretty complicated. At the end of the day, I need money, and I really, really, REALLY do not want to have to take a regular near-minimum-wage job to deal with it. I'll take out student loans if I have to, I just really, seriously do not want to deal with another GameStop job. I worked at GameStop on and off for four years.
I would not recommend this to anyone. Not that GameStop is that bad an employer - though they have their moments - but working for minimum wage, or close to it, basically working retail at all is beneath my dignity as a fucking human being. I don't pretend that I'm better than people who work retail, I just believe that I've done my time in retail hell and no more for me.
Hmm. I reread that and it still comes off as arrogant. Oh well, fuck it, it's what I believe. I'm sick of moderating myself so that people don't cry and get offended.
Gonna weed it up today, and keeping a couple of 6-Hour Powers around to help stave off fatigue. I tried these 6-Hour Powers because it's basically spitting in the eye of 5-Hour Energy, and I want to know if they have the oomph to back up their boldness.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
memory damage? what memory damage? i feel fine
So, really, only two noteworthy things happened since last I posted.
1. I went into the woods with SCIENCE and we took an alternate path I'd never seen before, that led to a log protruding over a river, with millions of plants growing all over it. I decided to cross it, and did so, very haltingly and with much grabbing of the scenery to stabilize myself.
I decided that I was being a pussy and confidence would let me stride right across it, so on the way back, I tried striding. Turns out, I was wrong, and I fell off the log. Now, this river wasn't the Mississippi, but that was part of the problem - it was deep enough to get me soaked, but shallow enough that if I fell in, it'd be just like hitting solid ground. And I was a good seven or eight feet up.
Fortunately, I managed to catch myself on a bunch of underbrush and secondary logs. I landed with my shoulder blades sort of pressed up against a thick branch and my foot braced against another log, with a million branches beneath me. About two feet above the river.
It was fun, and kind of scary. I thought for sure I'd break my neck, or at least get drenched. I managed to get away with only the tip of my shoe and the back cuff on my jeans leg getting wet, so that was pretty neat. SCIENCE said it looked like I had been caught by the forest, which is a nice image.
2. Today I was over at Bigmofo's house and a friend of his apparently had his car break, so he came in and asked if we could help push his car into his driveway. We all volunteered, because it sounded fun. It was.
It started with one, then two, then finally six people pushing on this car. I decided that since we had so much power, we should use it, so I called out "RUN!!" and started running. Everyone else thought this was a great idea (most of us had had some nice bong rips and shots of Jack Daniels, including me) and sped up.
The guy who was steering called it "The Buick Olympics." I saw a big bump up ahead and said "We're gonna launch this fucker." Someone else yelled "RAMMING SPEED!" Oh, it was entertainment. We were full-on sprinting and pushing this car down the road, it was quite the image, six drunken/stoned assholes bull-rushing a car down a remote residential road.
We left off after the bump and the guy managed to coast thirty-odd yards down the road and up his driveway from the momentum.
Fun times.
1. I went into the woods with SCIENCE and we took an alternate path I'd never seen before, that led to a log protruding over a river, with millions of plants growing all over it. I decided to cross it, and did so, very haltingly and with much grabbing of the scenery to stabilize myself.
I decided that I was being a pussy and confidence would let me stride right across it, so on the way back, I tried striding. Turns out, I was wrong, and I fell off the log. Now, this river wasn't the Mississippi, but that was part of the problem - it was deep enough to get me soaked, but shallow enough that if I fell in, it'd be just like hitting solid ground. And I was a good seven or eight feet up.
Fortunately, I managed to catch myself on a bunch of underbrush and secondary logs. I landed with my shoulder blades sort of pressed up against a thick branch and my foot braced against another log, with a million branches beneath me. About two feet above the river.
It was fun, and kind of scary. I thought for sure I'd break my neck, or at least get drenched. I managed to get away with only the tip of my shoe and the back cuff on my jeans leg getting wet, so that was pretty neat. SCIENCE said it looked like I had been caught by the forest, which is a nice image.
2. Today I was over at Bigmofo's house and a friend of his apparently had his car break, so he came in and asked if we could help push his car into his driveway. We all volunteered, because it sounded fun. It was.
It started with one, then two, then finally six people pushing on this car. I decided that since we had so much power, we should use it, so I called out "RUN!!" and started running. Everyone else thought this was a great idea (most of us had had some nice bong rips and shots of Jack Daniels, including me) and sped up.
The guy who was steering called it "The Buick Olympics." I saw a big bump up ahead and said "We're gonna launch this fucker." Someone else yelled "RAMMING SPEED!" Oh, it was entertainment. We were full-on sprinting and pushing this car down the road, it was quite the image, six drunken/stoned assholes bull-rushing a car down a remote residential road.
We left off after the bump and the guy managed to coast thirty-odd yards down the road and up his driveway from the momentum.
Fun times.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
the little joys that life can bring me
As I said, I finally finished that God damned website. It's actually pretty good, to be honest (and egomaniacal, but whatever), and I know I put a shitload of work into it. It's not actually that impressive, but given my limited skill...eh, I'm sick of blowing my own trumpet for now.
What a gay expression that sounds like.
Anyway, I slept for about three hours and discovered, with forty minutes remaining before the deadline, that my CD drive was apparently broken beyond immediate repair. I sweated, but my flash drive was an acceptable backup. If I had put in all that fucking work and gotten marked off for it being late because they wouldn't accept a fucking flash drive, I would...well, I'd be extremely upset.
So that was that. Met up with Jamie after the class I turned in my website to (there's a test on Tuesday, gonna have to study for it on Sunday on account of Monday is a holiday to me), he was pretty impressed that I didn't have any signs of withdrawal like nausea or fatigue. I'm a little tired now, but that's because I stayed up all shitting night building this Web site.
I gotta admit, though, I'm proud of my little, stupid creation. I put a lot of work into it. One of the reasons I was super-depressed about three weeks ago was that I realized I never create anything or accomplish anything anymore. I didn't even write in my last blog anymore, but fuck it, because it's a PG-rated sack of bullshit that I was sick of censoring.
But I really did create this site, and I'm probably going to get a good grade on it. All the code validates and works, no problems like misspelled links or broken pictures, it works in Firefox, IE and Safari...I feel like I've accomplished something, which is better than the mindless bullshit I usually churn out for classes. (English-department classes, mainly.)
That's not the little joy, though. The little joy was enduring all of that and then going pretty stoned to class, Martial Arts Cinema, which sounds entertaining until you realize it's just neck-deep film-study bullshit. The first little joy was moving from our normal classroom, in which the AC is constantly broken, into a regular, air-conditioned classroom like civilized people.
The second was that we don't have to give presentations on our final papers, as I thought we would have to a week before they were due (said so in the syllabus, the teacher changed her mind). Fuck yeah, dude.
Spent most of class with my friend Robocop (he chose the name, I asked him what fake name he wanted), who was sitting behind me as I typed on my laptop. Mostly it was just MST3k-style comments about the shitty movies we were watching, which apparently I'm pretty good at even when I'm high. When I get high again, I'm going to look back over all those comments I wrote and try and remember their context. Or invent new.
Anyway. I'm at SCIENCE's house, and he's battling a really bad headache and trying to realize exactly why he bought the sushi that he's eating.
Gotta save up my resin and kief and best weed for Monday, man. The very first 4/20 I'll ever properly celebrate.
Fun times.
What a gay expression that sounds like.
Anyway, I slept for about three hours and discovered, with forty minutes remaining before the deadline, that my CD drive was apparently broken beyond immediate repair. I sweated, but my flash drive was an acceptable backup. If I had put in all that fucking work and gotten marked off for it being late because they wouldn't accept a fucking flash drive, I would...well, I'd be extremely upset.
So that was that. Met up with Jamie after the class I turned in my website to (there's a test on Tuesday, gonna have to study for it on Sunday on account of Monday is a holiday to me), he was pretty impressed that I didn't have any signs of withdrawal like nausea or fatigue. I'm a little tired now, but that's because I stayed up all shitting night building this Web site.
I gotta admit, though, I'm proud of my little, stupid creation. I put a lot of work into it. One of the reasons I was super-depressed about three weeks ago was that I realized I never create anything or accomplish anything anymore. I didn't even write in my last blog anymore, but fuck it, because it's a PG-rated sack of bullshit that I was sick of censoring.
But I really did create this site, and I'm probably going to get a good grade on it. All the code validates and works, no problems like misspelled links or broken pictures, it works in Firefox, IE and Safari...I feel like I've accomplished something, which is better than the mindless bullshit I usually churn out for classes. (English-department classes, mainly.)
That's not the little joy, though. The little joy was enduring all of that and then going pretty stoned to class, Martial Arts Cinema, which sounds entertaining until you realize it's just neck-deep film-study bullshit. The first little joy was moving from our normal classroom, in which the AC is constantly broken, into a regular, air-conditioned classroom like civilized people.
The second was that we don't have to give presentations on our final papers, as I thought we would have to a week before they were due (said so in the syllabus, the teacher changed her mind). Fuck yeah, dude.
Spent most of class with my friend Robocop (he chose the name, I asked him what fake name he wanted), who was sitting behind me as I typed on my laptop. Mostly it was just MST3k-style comments about the shitty movies we were watching, which apparently I'm pretty good at even when I'm high. When I get high again, I'm going to look back over all those comments I wrote and try and remember their context. Or invent new.
Anyway. I'm at SCIENCE's house, and he's battling a really bad headache and trying to realize exactly why he bought the sushi that he's eating.
Gotta save up my resin and kief and best weed for Monday, man. The very first 4/20 I'll ever properly celebrate.
Fun times.
remember that story i was talking about
The fruity one? Yeah, that one, fictionpress finally let me upload it. As I said, it's pretty ridiculous, but bear in mind I was running on no sleep and some over-the-counter boosters (5-Hour Energy specifically, I slug down those things like some people drink cans of soda), so...yeah.
Enjoy. Or not. I really don't care, I just want to put it out there.
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2661029/1/Graffiti
Mazel tov.
Enjoy. Or not. I really don't care, I just want to put it out there.
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2661029/1/Graffiti
Mazel tov.
a considerable amount of work later
And I'm done. Holy goddamn ball-kicking Jesus, that took a long time. I've been chipping away at this goddamn Web site for a week now and it still took me, what, ten hours to finish it tonight? WITH Adderall?
Actually, that stuff is fucking fantastic. I had a 20mg tablet broken in half, and I consumed the two halves about three hours apart. I know why people say it's grades in a bottle, and I further know why people get addicted to it. I mean, forget all the physical symptoms of withdrawal, forget all that, and consider this:
It makes me feel cool, collected, and in control. Like there is absolutely nothing life can throw at me that I can't handle. I'm very calm and able to deal with any problems I encounter. I have absolute focus and can put 100% of my mental resources into any task.
Yeah. I know why this stuff gets people. But for the love of God, my best friend SCIENCE (got to think of a better fake name for him) was sitting next to me, in my room, smoking MY weed right there next to me, blowing smoke past my face and out the window...and I told him to put it out because he was distracting me. What in the fuck IS this stuff?
Anyway, as I said, nothing interesting happened besides that. I was wrong about one thing, though, interesting things will almost certainly happen on Thursday afternoon, well, this afternoon, technically. God, I need sleep. I guess, y'know, amphetamines'll do that to a person.
Hwoof. I can only get it through SCIENCE and I've specifically requested that he not get me any more for quite a while. I know I have an addictive personality, goddammit I'm addicted to fucking MARIJUANA. Not physically, but definitely psychologically hooked. And if since I shrugged it off for a day I feel less cravings to try it, I know I'll only need to look at it tomorrow afternoon, and ten minutes later I'll be blazing a path.
Eh. I know I'm weak, but I'm okay with it, at the moment. I don't do opiates, cocaine, meth, or anything that would seriously fuck over a weak-willed person such as myself, only weed, Adderall this one time, and I plan to try shrooms and ecstasy. Maybe acid. That's really about it.
Well, fuck in a basket. I need to get some sleep. It's 7:05 a.m. and I haven't slept in over 24 hours.
Hey, now that I think about it, I haven't smoked in 24 hours either. Isn't that nice? Of course, I can't crow about not dipping into my diminishing supply because my goddamn friend did that for me. He's a mooch, we both know it, but he gave me a night of absolute productivity tonight, so I'll begrudge him a bowl or two.
Actually, how I got it is kind of funny in and of itself. The price for the pill? I'd heard anywhere from $3 to $6 for a 10mg pill, and since I was getting 20mg, I was prepared to pay $12 or even $15 or $20. Prices are ridiculous in my town. This is part of the reason that I'm poor.
Instead, the price from the guy my friend knows? The price he demanded? A large pizza from Gumby's (a pizza chain extraordinarily popular among college students), which cost me like $7. So, y'know, fuckin' perfect.
I was noticing recently, again, how many doors smoking weed seems to have opened for me. How many people it's letting me meet and get to know better. For one thing, without weed to make me seem cool and edgy, there's no way I would have fucked that absurdly hot redhead chick about two weeks ago, but I did, so nyah. Turned out she was just a slut, but fuck, I'll take a victory where I can get it, especially where it concerns getting laid. I need every small victory I can get, there.
Anyway, I was talking in my fucking three-hour class I have on Wednesdays to a guy called, uh, 'Fro-B-Gone. (He had a big afro, then shaved himself almost bald.) I was heading to the student union with him during a break in the class so we could get dinner, and I asked him what he did for fun. You know, sort of getting to know him a little better; I'd barely spoken with the guy all semester.
Me: So what do you do for fun?
Him: Uh...play guitar, smoke weed, go swimming, um...
Me: Wait, hang on. That second thing you said...it intrigued me.
Him: *laughs*
Which then turned into a spirited conversation about weed and drug use in general.
I gotta say, they tell me drugs are bad, but apart from draining all of my money I can't see the harm yet. Of course, I've done only weed and Adderall, which are basically the Natural Light and Budweiser of drugs. Maybe I should snort a line or shoot up a bag and then make that statement again. If I'm able to, and not dead a month later from some damn thing.
Fuck it all. Weed never killed anyone and Adderall is occasionally useful as a pick-me-up and study aid. Wouldn't want to live in that state, though...no imagination, no real emotion, and I just know I'd overestimate my own abilities and get the shit kicked out of me for some reason.
Sleep time. Maybe.
Actually, that stuff is fucking fantastic. I had a 20mg tablet broken in half, and I consumed the two halves about three hours apart. I know why people say it's grades in a bottle, and I further know why people get addicted to it. I mean, forget all the physical symptoms of withdrawal, forget all that, and consider this:
It makes me feel cool, collected, and in control. Like there is absolutely nothing life can throw at me that I can't handle. I'm very calm and able to deal with any problems I encounter. I have absolute focus and can put 100% of my mental resources into any task.
Yeah. I know why this stuff gets people. But for the love of God, my best friend SCIENCE (got to think of a better fake name for him) was sitting next to me, in my room, smoking MY weed right there next to me, blowing smoke past my face and out the window...and I told him to put it out because he was distracting me. What in the fuck IS this stuff?
Anyway, as I said, nothing interesting happened besides that. I was wrong about one thing, though, interesting things will almost certainly happen on Thursday afternoon, well, this afternoon, technically. God, I need sleep. I guess, y'know, amphetamines'll do that to a person.
Hwoof. I can only get it through SCIENCE and I've specifically requested that he not get me any more for quite a while. I know I have an addictive personality, goddammit I'm addicted to fucking MARIJUANA. Not physically, but definitely psychologically hooked. And if since I shrugged it off for a day I feel less cravings to try it, I know I'll only need to look at it tomorrow afternoon, and ten minutes later I'll be blazing a path.
Eh. I know I'm weak, but I'm okay with it, at the moment. I don't do opiates, cocaine, meth, or anything that would seriously fuck over a weak-willed person such as myself, only weed, Adderall this one time, and I plan to try shrooms and ecstasy. Maybe acid. That's really about it.
Well, fuck in a basket. I need to get some sleep. It's 7:05 a.m. and I haven't slept in over 24 hours.
Hey, now that I think about it, I haven't smoked in 24 hours either. Isn't that nice? Of course, I can't crow about not dipping into my diminishing supply because my goddamn friend did that for me. He's a mooch, we both know it, but he gave me a night of absolute productivity tonight, so I'll begrudge him a bowl or two.
Actually, how I got it is kind of funny in and of itself. The price for the pill? I'd heard anywhere from $3 to $6 for a 10mg pill, and since I was getting 20mg, I was prepared to pay $12 or even $15 or $20. Prices are ridiculous in my town. This is part of the reason that I'm poor.
Instead, the price from the guy my friend knows? The price he demanded? A large pizza from Gumby's (a pizza chain extraordinarily popular among college students), which cost me like $7. So, y'know, fuckin' perfect.
I was noticing recently, again, how many doors smoking weed seems to have opened for me. How many people it's letting me meet and get to know better. For one thing, without weed to make me seem cool and edgy, there's no way I would have fucked that absurdly hot redhead chick about two weeks ago, but I did, so nyah. Turned out she was just a slut, but fuck, I'll take a victory where I can get it, especially where it concerns getting laid. I need every small victory I can get, there.
Anyway, I was talking in my fucking three-hour class I have on Wednesdays to a guy called, uh, 'Fro-B-Gone. (He had a big afro, then shaved himself almost bald.) I was heading to the student union with him during a break in the class so we could get dinner, and I asked him what he did for fun. You know, sort of getting to know him a little better; I'd barely spoken with the guy all semester.
Me: So what do you do for fun?
Him: Uh...play guitar, smoke weed, go swimming, um...
Me: Wait, hang on. That second thing you said...it intrigued me.
Him: *laughs*
Which then turned into a spirited conversation about weed and drug use in general.
I gotta say, they tell me drugs are bad, but apart from draining all of my money I can't see the harm yet. Of course, I've done only weed and Adderall, which are basically the Natural Light and Budweiser of drugs. Maybe I should snort a line or shoot up a bag and then make that statement again. If I'm able to, and not dead a month later from some damn thing.
Fuck it all. Weed never killed anyone and Adderall is occasionally useful as a pick-me-up and study aid. Wouldn't want to live in that state, though...no imagination, no real emotion, and I just know I'd overestimate my own abilities and get the shit kicked out of me for some reason.
Sleep time. Maybe.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
this stuff really is grades in a bottle
Just took an Adderall, and...wow. They weren't kidding about this crap.
Busy now...got work to do.
Busy now...got work to do.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
nothing especially interesting happened today
And I don't think anything will. Not until these fucking projects are done, which is never gonna fucking happen if I don't fucking stop fucking around on the fucking Internet.
Sorry. But it frustrates me to see myself falling into my old traps. I gotta power out of this and actually do my work, then I can spend all Goddamn weekend in the swamp if I want to.
Though I did go over to Aragorn's house, his friend was there, we smoked several bowls and played Resident Evil 5. So, not too bad a day.
Meh. I probably won't have anything that interesting to talk about until Friday or so.
Sorry. But it frustrates me to see myself falling into my old traps. I gotta power out of this and actually do my work, then I can spend all Goddamn weekend in the swamp if I want to.
Though I did go over to Aragorn's house, his friend was there, we smoked several bowls and played Resident Evil 5. So, not too bad a day.
Meh. I probably won't have anything that interesting to talk about until Friday or so.
Monday, April 13, 2009
feeling better already
Since I spent most of my poetry class on my computer actually working as opposed to goofing off like I usually do, I have a lot more time than I thought I did. I've gotten a lot done.
Gosh. Aren't I proud of myself.
If there's anyone out there feels like commenting, y'all go ahead and comment only on the big substantial posts of mine, not these little microposts. Thanks.
Gosh. Aren't I proud of myself.
If there's anyone out there feels like commenting, y'all go ahead and comment only on the big substantial posts of mine, not these little microposts. Thanks.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
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.
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.
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