Desperate TimesStranded in a hotel in an African war zone with no internet access for two weeks, I was forced to resort to desperate measures. Possessing only my passport and the clothes I stood up in; and the warning "You can catch it shaking hands with a vicar out there" ringing in my ears, I had to draw my own porn in order to preserve my sanity.
Alas, it all came out looking like Coronation Street's Audrey Roberts, but, as they say, any port in a storm.
What have you done in times of great desperation?
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
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The lowest point.Another shameful tale from my stoned student days:-
This one relates to the ill fated time we decided to buy sqidgy black in quantity (half a bar) for the house (four single scummy male dope fiends). You know the sort of gear - the type you don't even need to burn, just roll into little worms a-la plasticine, surround with tobacco, wrap with a rizla, slam in a roach and you're ready to go. Anyway, the good times rolled for a week or so, then abruptly and prematurely ceased. We had been smoking quite a lot and quite fast to "make sure we got our share" and were in no state to face reality without a spliff. To avoid this unpleasantness we ended up dissecting the nub ends in the ashtrays around the flat, picking out the little unburned sausages of resin and re-rolling them.
Genius!
A couple of decent joints later and we were again faced with the same dilemma. Becoming more active my cousin Wobert's eyes alight on the undisposed of five black bin bags of rubbish that have accumulated in our top floorflat during the course of this binge. He reasoned that there was a huge bounty of nub ends in them thar sacks and all we needed to do to "cash in" was cut hole in the lowest point of each sack, shake them hard and nub ends would cascade out like the jackpot from some druggy fruit machine. After a bit of discussion and in desparation we decided that the idea was a go-er, so after a little preparation (two sheets of newspaper on the kitchen floor) the venture commenced.
First came the smell. Even to our deadened senses in an already smelly smoke filled flat this was enough to make us retch. It wasn't so much the sickly sweet stench of three week old kebeb, biryani and used tissues but the tang of penicillin oranges and old cider empties that really made our eyes water - still - windows were opened - it was bearable and far too late to back down. The shaking down continued.
We were rewarded with about 30 dog ends, hopes were raised and all was well until something in a bag shifted and a stream of black, noxious, phoetid liquid poured out over our beautiful butts. Gagging I left the flat for some fresh air (for the first time in days). On my return (15 minutes later - I still didn't want to miss out) Wob was dissecting the "rinsed" mushy smelly results with tweezers and placing potential bits of dope on a sheet of A4 to dry. Another 15 mins and we had a pile of stuff that looked and smelled like guinea pig droppings, another 5 and we had what looked like a respectable reefer.
Wob took the first toke, and to do him justice held it. His face went pale but he got his heaving under control. Then he relaxes, turns to me, says "it's a bit of an acquired taste but it definately gets you stoned!" and passes me the joint.
I inhale .......
This was also the time we got the munchies for Remegel as it was the closest thing to sweets in the house but that's another story.
I have also smoked resin that someone has picked out of their poo with a pen but at least it was in clingfilm.
(, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 13:22, 3 replies)
Drugs make you do bad things - what can I say.Am rich and clean now!
(, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 13:38, closed)
EejitSorry... you caned a half bar in a week?
You're either full of it, or you boys probably dropped 10 IQ points per man in that 7-day period.
(, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 10:54, closed)
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