I found a picture of a double percolater bong, out of pill bottles. And I was like, "WOW! This sounds amazing." So, needless to say, having some bud and being bored, I wanted to make it. So I set to finding bottles. A pill bottle that was long overdue to be thrown away (The medicine went bad in '08.) A bottle of childrens cough syrup, which went bad in '06. Washed it, though. And at long last, a bottle of generic Nyquil. Washed that, too. So I finally had what I needed to make the bong. But not the tools. I was in my grandmothers and mothers apartment, so I went looking for straws. Came up empty. My grandma uses an oxygen machine, and she has feet and feet and yards and yard and so on and so forth, of extra tubing. So I went looking in her close, where it was. Didn't find it. But I did find a hot glue gun. Lucky me! I went digging around her room, and finally found an old cord, that she wasn't using any more. So I ran it through a bath of bleach, rinsed the hell out of it, and it magically went from green to white. Cleaned the snot, and what not. So that was done. I had it all. I went up to my room, which was on the third floor, and set to work. I turned the hot glue gun on, and waited for it to warm up, while watching something on the History Channel about Fort Knox and it's security stuff. (Goldfinger, any one?) After that, I began cutting the neccisary holes, sticking through tubing, and bending things in to shape. Five glue sticks later, I had my creation. A bong, with three tubes, two thin, one thick. Each of them functioning perfectly. Each chamber having a little bit of water. A hell of a lot of water proof glue to binding things up, a ratchet piece and some foil. I put the bowl (ratchet piece with a small ball of foil wedged in the open hole) on the thickest tube, at the bottom. There was foil around the tube, to prevent anything from happening if the foil in the ratchet piece slipped. Everything was airtight, and it barely took a seconds light inhale to get all three tubes to bubblin'. The stage was set, and I was ready to be off in my own little world, happy and listening to younger childrens whine about their animals. I chopped up some bud, and put it in the bowl. My lighter was fine, full of fluid, and I had a five chopped, another 15 dollars worth in bud on the table. I lit up, and watched as all three bottles slowly filled with a first yellowish, then white, then pure vapor smoke to the top. A little bit of a sting as my mouth filled with smoke, but it was a much easier hit than the daquiri cup bong in my closet. I took the bowl off the thick tube, and inhaled until the smoke had left all three bottles. I held it for around 14 seconds, and then slowly exhaled through my mouth, and my nose. I relaxed, and closed my eyes, knowing from others peoples little memoirs, that it would take but a few seconds for good bud to touch you. My second and third hits were long ones, and I was out of bowl by the last. I heard the little 'puff' as the ashes went through the foil screen. So I loaded the bowl up again, nice and tight this time. This might last longer, right? Four more hits, and time was slow. It was like everything was in a lag. Sounds repeated. I listened to George Bush talking about the White House Oval Office around twelve times. I decided to stop, because there would be nosy people showing up soon. So I put the bong in a safe place, when I noticed that there was still a lot of chopped bud. I left it, unfortunately, and went for my towel. Shower time. When I got to the bathroom, I pissed and decided not to shower. I sprayed my hair a few times with hair spray, then decided to do my clothes. Then I brushed my teeth and g argled tooth paste and water. Came back here, and sat down at the computer. Decided, "I'm gonna do this on grasscity." So I looked for the site, forgot six times what I was looking for (subsequently landing me on myspace, facebook and live mail.) But I finally logged in to grasscity, and looked for this forum. Put I suppose you're reading for the high, no? Well, it's amazing. I don't know fully what it means, but the word nostalgic keeps echoing in my head, flashing towards me on a background of comets and stars. When people run by my apartment door, their steps sound so far away, and then explode in to an echoing thunder of thumps. People talking outside and down the hallway, about macaroni and their mothers. My tv keeps repeating itself very quickly, and things are going over and over in my head. I feel like my body won't stop vibrating, and it's a delightful, relaexed feeling. And suddenly, everything sounds tasty. Some kid next door watching the Kids Next Door was playing it too loud, and it echoes in time with the ringing in my right ear. Scratched it like, eight times. S'pose I'll go eat stuff, and come back later.