So busy is the key to my life right now, to busy to even check my e-mail...freakin spam advertisment is going to kill me I swear. Especially those tricky bastards who make the subject line look like a possible e-mail from someone, not just a spam e-mail. I should set my spam filters on, but watch with my luck they'll start blocking the e-mails I do want to read like from friends and loved ones and my subscription to crack whore magazine news letter. I love me some crack whores, five bucks gets you pretty far.

So I have come to the realization how much of a pot head I a really am. If not simply by how much weed I have smoked in my life, but by another simple little fact.

You see, I have a top three list of pot smoking stories/antecdotes prime for slow moments at get togethers. It would be a top five list, but I can't remember two of the stories....heh another sign how much of a pot head I am.

Now since I don't have the time or the patience to crank out all three stories, plus its always good to keep a few stories back for material on future brain farts for new entries, I'm going to tell you my top weed smoking story right now. A little flashback music if you will.

It was several years ago and a group of friends of mine and I where looking for a place to smoke down. Well, we decided to hit the patch of woods next to the apartment complex I used to live in. While walking around, we found a perfect circle of trees just laying there. Well it was more like a large amount of tree branches tucked into the trees so the bent into a circle, a definete man made look to it.

So the eight of us decide to smoke down inside the circle, seem like a perfect spot. After one bowl, four of the people left, leaving on the last four of us to chill out in the circle and work on that ounce we had. So the last four of us stood up facing each other as one of them packed the bowl real tight. The idea was that we stand so close so that we could power hit it and pass it on quick, get more bang for our buck.

Well, at one point one of my friends says, "dude, this bowl is cashed." Being the skeptic I am, I snatched it out of his hands, laid flame to the bowl and........big ol' cloud of smoke.

Cashed my ass, you just can't take a good hit slappy.

So the bowl keeps getting passed around and after a couple turns around us, the same guy would say the bowl would be cashed tell one of us snagged it and took a huge hit off of the "cashed" bowl.

Now here is the strange part, off that one packed bowl, didn't pack any more in during the time, us all power hitting it, that bowl lasted a total of fourty five minutes. I shit you not, that has got to be the longest lasting bowl of weed I have ever experienced in my life. The bowl wasn't big, it was regular sized. Nobody snuck in some more weed in it, and there was only a few seconds between each hit. So for a solid fourty five minutes we kept toking off that same bowl which just flipped us all out.

And no, this isn't one of those cases where we are so stoned that three minutes feels like fourty five minutes.

Ok, so we where stoned enough that time had not relevance and munchies where the center of the universe. One of them had a watch and and was keeping track of how much time had passed since the bowl was packed.

During that entire time, not a one of us moved more then we had to. Pass the bowl around and pass the lighter and thats it. Then, when the bowl that just wouldn't quite finally ran out, one of them got a bright idea to play hacky sack.

Let me tell you, there is no crueler game to play with someone who is severly stoned. Your mind is on a seven second delay, your reflexes are out for lunch and you can see better hand/eye cordination on a quadrapolegic. Why hacky sack is so popular with stoners is beyond me....maybe has something to do with no sober person in there right mind would find kicking a tiny bean bag around as a form of entertainment.

So I'm standing there thinking what a fucking cool idea hacky sack sounded *proof, its a stoner thing cause sober I couldn't give a shit if I played it or not* Now before I moved, I didn't quite grasp how truelly and totally baked out of my skull I was. As I was turning away from my friends to move into postion, I noticed that the earth was turning with me in the same direction, but only five times faster then I was going. So instead of turning around and walking a few steps away, I just twisted my upper torso tell I lost balance and crashed to the ground.

As I'm laying there looking up in the sky wondering how the fuck did I just end up laying here, thats about when I realized I was more baked then twice baked beans....yeah lame joke, but I couldn't think of anything better so bite me bean boy...heh

After a few minutes of collecting my thoughts and prompting from my friends to get up......ok that sounds better then what it really was.....it was me sitting there to stoned to think as my friends kicked me in the ribs while mumbling get up maaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

So finally I get back up to my feet and stagger into postion to play some hacky sack. Man, did I ever suck, I couldn't kick that little bean bag if my life depended on it. I stood a better chance of winning the lottery twice an getting with the hot monkey lovin with Elizabeth Berkley then I did kicking that little fucking bean bag.

Out of frustration, I eyed that little bag as it flow throw the air, determined to give it my all and kick that little fucker. So finally it pops up in the air in front of me...my moment had arrived. As the sack flew over my head, I did a spin that would worthy of the Matrix, my leg kicing up in the air at just the proper angle to flick the hacky to one of my friends and send me into a flip through the air to land perfectly on my feet.

Ok, so thats how I saw it in my head. In reality I closed my eyes, spun like a lopsided top and kicked my other leg out from underneath me, sending me tumbling into the circle, once again laying on my back staring up at the sky wondering where the fuck I was once again.

That seems to be a running theme through a lot of my stoner/drinking stories, me ending up on my back wondering how the fuck I got there in the first place.

Ok, so this antecdote is a lot funnier if I told it with facial expresions, sound effects, and different voices rather then type it here. You lose a lot of the humor when your forced to type it out.

Eh fuck it......I'll come back with something better next time and hopefully I won't be to busy so it isn't several days from now.

Tell then...

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003