Storytime!

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by Mreguy, Feb 9, 2009.

  1. Hope you enjoy.

    I really wasn't having the best of my days today. Shit kept happening. This, then that, then this. Worst of all, that car I had been waiting on, sold. I was just about to get the money for it too - too bad my brother's an asshole. Decided to sell it to someone else. Oh well, what was I gonna do?
    Earlier this afternoon, after I found out about his plans, I made some of my own. Don't think I'm going to try to seek retribution; I'll just go out and have some fun. Lighten up a bit.
    I made a few calls. Talked to a few people. Set my mind straight. Then I headed out for my friends house. Let's just say his name is.... Isaac. I like that. Isaac. So I had called Isaac, and we had a great idea; he had just gotten in his new Roor Dealer's Cup, and he hated smoking alone so he told me to come on over.
    I cruised... St. Peter Avenue, let's call it, just riding my skateboard, feeling the wind. It calmed me down a bit. Felt good. I was waiting for another friend to show up, and sure enough he did. He was carrying my favorite medicine; a quarter oz. of the finest herb our city could bring. That shit was dank! Slightly piney, oh so green, I couldn't wait!!! I handed over my wad of bills cautiosly, making sure that the piggies weren't oinking around to see it, said my thanks, then kicked off on my board.
    Eventually I made it to Isaacs house. I grabbed a couple Arizona iced tea drinks on the way over, chatted up a few ladies, even stopped for a quick apple pie at McDonalds. It wouldn't be a problem to him, especially since I had also picked up some blunts on my way over. Peach flavor, if you're just itching to know. I was feeling good as he welcomed me in his front door, with a gleeful look on his face, and I could tell we were about to get fucked up.
    I busted out my 1/4 oz. of fire, and was surprised when he pulled out an 1/8th of some dank afghani kush I had seen being sold the week before. "Still good, bro." he told me, leading me to the cushy sofa we always plopped down on to get faded. "So, lemme see it!" I told him, indicating the already cut open brown cardboard box sitting on the coffee table. He leaned forward, and gently pulled it out of its nesting place. "Shit cost me $400 man, but it was worth every penny." He handed me the Roor, as delicately as if it were a newborn baby. As far as he was concerned, it was his baby, and as far as I was concerned, the only one he was ever going to have, with his luck around women. "Alright, you pack, and I'll roll.", I said, already starting my task on the peach blunt I held in my hand. Isaac went to retrieve one of the many bowl pieces from our large collection.
    5 minutes later, he passed me the bong. I grabbed a lighter, and lit the freshly packed bowl. I noticed he had chosen the afghani that he had for the bong. I took a fat rip off the Cup, inhaling the ever so thick and milky smoke, feeling it go straight to my head, and I knew that all my troubles were going to be washed away. Holding it in for as long as I could, I multi-tasked, sealing the blunt up with the lick of my tongue. Mere seconds after that, the full effect of the afghani hit me, and I slumped back into the couch. The blunt was ready, but I was not. Isaac, having taken his rip 2 or 3 minutes before I got mine, was already recovered. He grabbed the blunt off the table, and sparked it, puffing slowly and smoothly, getting it going just right. He passed the blunt to me, and still whilring from the afgahni, I took a toke on the blunt. It must have been the best weed I'd ever smoked, it was so smooth, so graceful, so I took another fatty drag. Relaxing back into the couch, and passing off the blunt to Isaac in exchange for the Cup, I switched on the T.V. to VH1, time for some music videos. Hopefully something good.
    2 blunts and countless bowls later, I could barely even realize that I was completely gone. I just knew that our stash of Oreos was diminishing fast, and VH1 actually sucked. I began thinking immensly amazing things, like what if they made a VH2? and would VH2 be any better than VH1, or just 2 times more crappy? I realized I was thirsty, then just as fast I realized that I didn't want to move at all, so I would deal with my thirst until I wanted to move again, which I rationalized wouldn't be any time soon. I was on the couch and enjoying it, no rush.
    Hours later, I stared at the dismal remains of food and drinks scattered all over. Thank the deity above me though, my 1/4 oz. wasn't nearly as depleted as I had thought it might be. That 1/8th that my friend had saved me some bud, so another sesh could be had soon. I got up, walked to the bathroom, took a leak, then decided it was time to bust it. "Isaac?" I shouted, not seeing my friend anywhere in the living room. "Yeahh?" I heard a muffled shout come from the back of the house. Turned out that he was on his computer. I walked it, and announced my presence. "Aight foo, I'm peacin' out." I said, slappin his upturned palm and turning my back. "See you soon man, we gotta have another sesh before too long." "Fo' sho," I said, "see ya around." I left, taking my careful time to take one last look at the now non virgin Dealer's Cup sitting on the coffee table on my way out the front door. I got back on my board, and kicked off once again. I pulled out my pack of 72's as I wound my way back home, lighting the short white "coffin nail" as some people like to call it, and dragged on it slowly, pushing the thin amount of smoke out of my lips and wondering if I was really going home, or if that was another friend causing my phone to ring.

    I hope you guys enjoyed it, it may have been a bit long, but I enjoyed writing it! Smoke out! :smoking:
     
  2. think this goes under real life stories.
     

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