Wednesday, March 02, 2005

public service announcement

when i was like 15 i used to smoke schwag all the time. and i used to drive to independence to get it. so ghetto. people standing on the street yelling "ROCKS AND BLOW" or whatever. i must have been so cool when i was 15. not.

anyway one time we drove to the hole during luch, smoked in my car on the way back to school, and then i went to study hall. oh yeah, on the way into school i thew up in the grass. i guess that should have been my first sign.

so i'm sitting in my desk at study hall and i started to feel really hot and sweaty and then i started thinking about the same things over and over again. every thing i thought of had a color that went with it and they were spinning around like wheel of fortune. i was pretty sure i was going to die or go crazy. i was trying to think of an original thought because i thought it would stop but the only things i could think of were already on the damn weel. or probably they weren't, but that's how fucked up i was.

then i went to the bathroom and threw up. i was shaking and i decided i couldn't stand up so i laid down on the floor in the bathroom which was cold and felt pretty good. some girls came in there and were all freaked out by me because i was sprawled out on my stomach in the middle of the floor with my face all smashed against the cold tiles and i probably looked dead. i think i fell asleep. then someone came and brought me to the nurse and i got to take a nap. don't ask me why they didn't just send me home. not that i could have made it home because i barely made it to the nurse's office. whatever good samaritan was taking me there had to hold my arm and lead me there because i was all shaky and incoherent.

i was fine after probably one hour. then later i found out pretty much the same thing happened to my friends i smoked with. except none of them passed out in the bathroom and made a huge idiot out of themselves and therefore i was the only one that had a rumor about me that i was in narcotics anonymous.

this is what happnes when you smoke a wicky stick.

so obviously the moral of this story is that you should never smoke schwag that you bought in the ghetto because your mom was right and it might be laced with pcp. dag mom.

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