I'm not going to get into the gig's stories tell after I've gone to the second one this weekend.

I'm here to talk about something odd that happened to me tonight.

Actually it all stems from the fact I got high...

Ok, so I'm well aware me getting high is a frequent topic in this diary, thus probably becoming tiresome. Though the shit that hapens is funny, so how could I pass up a chance to tell you all about it.

Just think of me as a younger Uncle Bob in his smokin days. Only not as funny, articulate, intersting, or consistent. Ok, so nothing like Uncle Bob except the weed thing.

So its Spanky, WIllow, and I smoking this reall good Hawaiian bud. I mean really good shit here with no seeds and tons of crystals on the leafs with such a sweet, sweet smell to it...

This probably doesn't mean a thing to any of you non smokers, so lets move on.

First thing I notice after smoking two bowls of it, i could see a shape forming in this blanket to the right of me, Spanky's leather jacket on top of it. I swear I could see the face of Charlie Chaplin in the folds of the blanket, Spanky's jakect making it look like he was wearing his famous black bowler. The thing is, I could only see his face in my perpheral vision, so I could never get a good enough look to tell if the image was Charlie Chaplin or Hitler with a bowler.

There mustaches being etremely alike and all...

For a like good ten minutes after that, I started getting more and more curious about that. So, in order to satisfy my curiousty, I was going to need to fool my eyesight. So what do I do to do this....well, I turn my head really quickly in the direction of the blaket, hoping it happens so fast the image doesn't have the time to go away, thus giving me a direct on look at it.

Yeah, this is what you call a "no brainer" moment of self entertainment.

After I gave up on the Charlie Chaplin image, I started getting into a long conversation with Spanky about.....fuck if I remember now, it was stoned out blathering anyways. The thing is, after a point I realized the conversations quickly turned to me just going on and on and Spanky listening to me. Which quickly changed to me going on and on and Spanky looking like he is paying attenion, but in reality his mind is somewhere else completely.

here, let me give you an example of what I mean.

Spanky: You should play your foot ball game.

ME: I would if it wasn't my off week you slacker. If you would stop being a lazy ass and play your game, I could finally play one.

Spanky: Yeah, I'll do that. I'm actually doing really good with my quarterback with a perfect passer rating.

ME: Yeah, I'm doing pretty damn good myself despite the fact my first game of the season I did crappy. Now I got him nearly as good of a QB rating as yours, along with the top three guys on the pro bowl voting list for wide recievers are all my guys and....you don't understand a singl word coming out of my mouth right now do you?

I said that often to him last night, I would just see the look in his eyes and know he spaced out so bad that he has lost complete track of the conversation. So, I would call him on it and all he could do was give me a big grin that says, "oh shit, I"m busted."

Damn slacker Spanky.

Sometime after that, Spanky asked me to reach over and grab something closer to me then him. Now here was my problem with that whole concept. In order for me to reach what he wanted, I would have to lean forward to the point of not being on the chair anymore. I found this troublesome seeing as I was SO GOD DAMN comfortable.

Holy chirst thats a comfort zone only reserved for A)You're really stoned B)Sleeping i a bed fit for a King or Queen C)when you are dead.

I was at a comfort level taht it actually came to be a suprise to me to see I actually had legs, seeing as I could no longer really register they where really there.

Did I mention this was some REALLY good shit.

Some how my mind came to the conclusion that I had to be born without those legs, because when you own a pair, you really try not to lose them.

I mean REALLY, REALLY good shit.

Then I started wondering, if I wasn't born with a set of legs then how the hell did I get around?? I mean, I don't see a wheel chair around, so did I get around by using the muscles of my butt cheeks to propel me forward.

Oh christ, I really need to not be doing this entries when I'm still stoned, I say the most fucked up shit......well ok, so I only say the mildly weird shit and withold the really weird shit so as not to totally freak all of you out.

So I'm exhausted and still pretty high.......might as well end this one here before I start talking about pink elephants and wicked nurses with stockings and pensions for spankings.

Oh crap, I've said to much.

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