I'll start off with one of my worst memories. So it was the summer going into sophomore year in high school and my best friend and I pooled some money together and got 3gs of bud. A few nights later we still had a good amount and decided to have some people over to smoke with us. So I went to his house that night for a bonfire and we had some girls there and the guys who were sleeping over were also there. So I wasn't able to sleep over that night because I was helping my dad put up a fence early the next morning at a house we rented out. So anyways, I was already planning on sneaking out and going back to his house to smoke. So at around 11 I rode my bike to his house (2 minute bike ride) and we hung out in his basement playing 2k etc while we waited for his parents to go to bed. The weed was being held in a mason jar and we didn't have a grinder but the most experienced smoker of the group suggested we put a quarter in the jar because apparently that was a good substitute. Anyways, as he's shaking the jar it breaks and the bud spills out. We clean it up and roll some joints so I don't think much of it. When we finally head out I have the jar and was planning on just tossing it in the gutter or something. So we're walking to this lake less than half a mile away we like to smoke at and as we're walking there we smoke a roach that was leftover from the other day. I have a good buzz going and decide to just throw the jar away into the woods there. For some reason I threw it as hard as I could and I think ow, my hand hurts. I look down there is a massive slice in my pointer finger and a smaller gash right below it. Its gushing blood and I'm thinking ffffeeeeeeccckkkkkk. I guess I couldn't really feel the broken part of the glass on my fingers with the little bit of cloudiness. Anyways, I think it will just stop if I wrap it in my shorts, so we continue to smoke one of the joints and I am not feeling good at all. The flow is increasing and I'm panicking thinking I might lose my finger or something. I start to hint at that we should go back and that I need to clean myself up. So we walk back to his house and I feel like I'm going to faint and I can feel the blood pumping through my whole body. When we finally get back I head strait for the bathroom and take of the rag my friend took off his shirt to help my cut. Not quite sure but I definitely cut through all the layers of skin and looked like I had cut all the way to muscle. Bottom line, it was the worst cut I had experienced. My friend comes in and helps me with my cut and I'm bein a little bitch putting my hand under water for a few seconds to clean it before I hastily put on some Neosporin and band aids. So I finally get to walking my bike home at around 4am thinking WTH am I gunna do when I have to wake up in 5 hours and use my hands pretty much non stop. The next morning I wake up and am probably a 5/10 in terms of highness and try to wash my cut out again. It did not look good. When I would lift my arm, a surge of sharp throbbing pain would go through my finger. I ended going home from putting up the fence because I was feeling very lightheaded and dizzy. I actually continued to feel high until about 7 that night. Do any of you know if this was related to my low tolerance or the fact that my blood was flowing more or something along those lines. Sorry for the book, its just that I go through this so vividly every day in my head. what are some of your better or worse experiences?
Man my best memories of smoking were when I was 19 to when I was 22. My friend who is 2 years younger than me moved with his brother to their own house to live closer to his brothers college and both him and his brother smoke a lot ( his brother used to be a dealer). They lived with 3 or 4 other roommates (2 only smoked more than drinking) so it was always a packed house and everyday I would go to his place and smoke. It was crazy smoking at their place always cause every time I would smoke there, I would smoke to the point where I was about to pass out. They had so many bongs and just anything you can think of to smoke out of, it was there. We even tried to grow at their place but the buds turned out to be bad since it was our first grow and we ended up turning everything to hash. I swear you can smell the weed from down the street and even their neighbors asked to buy some weed lol. They also had a ladder to go on top of the roof where they put couches and chairs and just chill and smoke up there. The best thing was that his brother was my dealer at that time so if I ever needed some weed I would be able to pick up no matter what and his prices and buds were the best I have ever gotten from a dealer ( I wish I can still pick up from him even though I have a card). Everyday was such a blur and I would never forget that place. We even named his place "the bakery" . They moved back to their house after his brother was done with school so they don't live there anymore.