It's not me, it's the drugs talking
They make you do stupid stuff and say stupid stuff. Drugs ROCK! Old-time B3ta person Fraser says, "I remember turning to a flatmate once, after getting stoned and sitting through an episode of Casualty, and proclaiming "Wow! Those actors are *so* talented!". And really meaning it."
What do you regret doing under the influence?
( , Thu 15 Dec 2005, 11:19)
They make you do stupid stuff and say stupid stuff. Drugs ROCK! Old-time B3ta person Fraser says, "I remember turning to a flatmate once, after getting stoned and sitting through an episode of Casualty, and proclaiming "Wow! Those actors are *so* talented!". And really meaning it."
What do you regret doing under the influence?
( , Thu 15 Dec 2005, 11:19)
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Stoned in Marchmont
While at Uni in Edinburgh, I lived over a chippie. The great thing about Scottish chippies is they sell fags and skins; cue me or a flatmate regularly ordering 10 Silk Cut and a pack of green Rizzies in the early sfternoon, only to reappear in the evening demanding 3 fish suppers, 2 battered sausages, 3 bags of chips and a Snickers...
Anyway, one evening we're all chilling out with some soap bar when a hot rock falls out of the spliff, onto my belly and burns through the shirt onto my bare skin. "Owowowowowowowow!" sez I, jumping out of the armchair and causing said rock (still burning, this one was more like a boulder) to fall down into my loose fitting boxer shorts. "OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW!" I say even louder, slapping my groin hard to put the bastard out (the fire that is). Flatmates just looked at me and told me I was "doing their heads in". Bastards.
Maybe it was God's way of telling me not to smoke crap hash.
( , Fri 16 Dec 2005, 19:10, Reply)
While at Uni in Edinburgh, I lived over a chippie. The great thing about Scottish chippies is they sell fags and skins; cue me or a flatmate regularly ordering 10 Silk Cut and a pack of green Rizzies in the early sfternoon, only to reappear in the evening demanding 3 fish suppers, 2 battered sausages, 3 bags of chips and a Snickers...
Anyway, one evening we're all chilling out with some soap bar when a hot rock falls out of the spliff, onto my belly and burns through the shirt onto my bare skin. "Owowowowowowowow!" sez I, jumping out of the armchair and causing said rock (still burning, this one was more like a boulder) to fall down into my loose fitting boxer shorts. "OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW!" I say even louder, slapping my groin hard to put the bastard out (the fire that is). Flatmates just looked at me and told me I was "doing their heads in". Bastards.
Maybe it was God's way of telling me not to smoke crap hash.
( , Fri 16 Dec 2005, 19:10, Reply)
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