💾 Archived View for gemini.spam.works › mirrors › textfiles › drugs › MARYJANE › fat-ounce captured on 2023-01-29 at 14:31:15.
⬅️ Previous capture (2020-10-31)
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By the time I recieved my first zip, I had been under the dank, drank, and shrooms for a good glorious two years. I had never recieved so much green stuff at one time. All that sticky, filthy, glowing bud. My partner stared intensely at the brick, mouth gaped open looking like a zombie, them eyes stretched open, red veins and stuff exposed. It seemed like he was going to drool. I fingered through it, getting my hands covered with the sparkling crystals. BEAUTIFUL. Honestly, there is no feeling in the world that compares to a fat ounce of skunk bud resting in your hands. It didn't take long before we journeyed to the nearest park. Whipped out our 2 footer... took a good chunk and packed it. We closed the curtains to our 72' Chevy Deluxe van. My palms were sweatin like a madman. I was anxious to get the smoke up into my lungs. This 2 footer is like no other. Dual chamber with them tubes coming out of every which way. When you rip the carb, INTENSE amounts of smoke bum-rush your awaiting lungs. This brick's kind was smooth & potent-for me it was one toke bud. After we tandemed the bong for a good half-hour, the vision in the van dissipated as well as the air supply. We had Neil Young's Harvest CD on the Sony. Old man echoed through my head, almost ear-splitting, but at the same time, euphoric. I started bobbing my head to the tunes, when my friend collapsed. Thinking he was playing, I continued to trip to the tunes. It seemed like eternity, the music went on endlessly. For me, this was a true , justifying symptom of a true high. I was satisfied with the bud and decided that I should indulge. So I packed my party bowl and hit it solo. I couldn't even see the front bucket seats. Dense smoke, feeling like I was sitting in heaven. The tunes stopped. I crawled towards the front of the van on all fours to get the tunes going. As I ventured towards the dash, I kneed my friend up in the head. He was out. "Fuck him" I thought. I slipped in the first CD I grabbed my hands on. I stumbled back to my friend to check on him. I sat him upright and loaded another bowl. The high at this point, hit the prime. Movements were very slow and I needed to put a great deal of effort just to move. I heard birds tweeting and heard things getting whipped. It sounded and felt like I was in a rainforest or a crazy hectic jungle. Birds, I wanted to find them. My thoughts were so unorganized, I started banging my head on the roof. I was going hysterical. God damn birds, where they coming from. I lit the bowl, the bud flared, I fingered the bud to dense it. I left my finger in the burning bowl, for who knows how long? All I know that I had a black and blue finger the next morning. I couldn't breath! Air...Air I blew all the second hand smoke into my friends face. Hoping he would get high while passed out. I slapped him repeatedely in the face. Birds and thunder... the hell? From all directions... Where? DAMNIT!!! I socked my fried in the gut... Food, liquid...Things went nuts from there... The next thing I know, it's 5:00 on my watch. No way that was possible.. so I took a peep out the glass. MORNING????? My friend and I had a fattie influence trip all day and night until sunrise. FATTIE BUD. That bud was soon shared with the LOM crew the same day.