From: Gorsh Gorshley

I remember the time when snorted a bunch of extacy and then I took some liquid acid. Shortly after that, I smoked a shit load of nuggets. I was really ripped. After that I did a couple whip its. Oh man I was funked up! All of a sudden, the room started spinning and the walls melted. Then the potato men came out and started chasing me around the room with their frying pans. I was so scared. The potato men beat me with their frying pans. and they told me I had to smoke all my nuggets with them, and if I didn't, they would tie me up and crack majigens on me. then everyone started chucking. All I could hear was CHUCK! CHUCK! So I smoked all my nuggets with them and we cussed at all the flying purple penguins.

From: Tony Subject: My Story...

It was 22nd B-day recently, and I was visiting some friends in Reno. We went
out to see Keyser Soze, a local Reno band at a bar. We had been drinking wine and beer all day, and smoking fat spliffs before we went out. We get to the bar, and we commence drinking. or should I say I commence drinking. Hey, when it's your b-day and everyone wants to buy you a drink, who am I to say no. Anyway, after only a hour and a half or so, I am sloshed off my @$$!!! Vodka Collins and pints of beer and shots of Tuaca (nasty shit!), Jack Danny, and god knows what!

I go outside to smoke a ciggy, cuz in Reno you can smoke almost anywhere, and me being a Cali guy, I'm not used to the haze of Camels and Pall Malls in my grill. This is where is gets hazy. After my death-stick, I go to get back into the club, but the bouncer tells me that I'm too drunk to get back in. I tried to explain to him that I wasn't from Reno, my friends are inside, and I have no idea how to get back to the house. Apparently, I was not this polite, because somehow, me and the bouncer started fighting. Needless to say, I got my @$$ handed to me in my drunken state. He throws me on the ground and picks me up and walks me off the property. So now, I'm completely blitzed, bleeding, and hanging out on the street in an unfamiliar town. Great!

Now this is where I blackout. Yes, you heard right: BLACKOUT! The last thing I remember is swearing at myself for getting me into this position. After that, it's anyone's guess.

The next thing i remember is my buddy waking me up to get ready for my flight home, as I'm sleeping on his couch, w/ shoes off, all my weed smoked, and no wallet! Upon further examination, I find a burned $20 bill in my pocket, along w/ a new pack of smokes, there's a drunken message from me on my buddy's answering machine, and my knee hurts like hell and has a cut bruise the size of Texas on it!

To this day, none of us know how I got home (or how I even found the place,
for that matter), and where my wallet is.

If anyone reading this gave me a ride, Thanks. I owe you one.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

From: |nFeRn0 Subject: feedback

One time friend and I were walking downs some train tracks to go smoke a bowl, and then we stoped to light it up, and a train came by, so we waited for it to pass and then we smoked our weed and continued on our journey towards our friends house. Before we got there we realized that we may smell like weed so we went to some spruce trees and rubbed up against them to get our fresh alpine smell! So then we walked to our friends house and when we got there he was racking leaves and cleaning his yard. He said that he needed to do some chores inside, and we can rake the leaves until we calmed down. So we started racking leaves, and then my friend and I were thinking of how many people we could hide under the leaves. So we started making one big pile to hide the bodys under and by the time we were done we had cleaned up his entire yard, all the while he was inside eating food and playing on his computer. We didn't mind much because for some reason it seemed fun to rake the leaves.!!

This story doesn't really have any meaning to it, but if you want to get rid of the smell, and you dont have caloan or something, get some spruce trees and rub against them!

From: Paladine Subject: Billy's lit up

We had just dropped some gel tabs about 45 minutes into watching Street Fighter II: the anime. At some point or another my friend Manuel figures that he can throw Hadukens (Fireball in Japanese) just like a character in the movie. So we get Billy's brothers cologne and douse are hands with it. After we're drenched, we light ourselves, then try and throw the flames.

Soon we figured that if we had wanted to throw Fireballs we would have to plan something more strategic. So Manuel, Keith, Billy, Josh, and I smoked a fatty while waiting for the trips to peak us out. Then we gather the tank of gasoline laying beside the house and try the same. The flames scorched our hands with black soot and are knuckle hair cringed, but we were determined to get it right.

At this point we fill a glass with gasoline and lay it in the road. We light it up and it explodes! So we all start to trip nuts and figure that we should draw a pentagram in Billy's yard with gasoline and fire. When the yard started to light I had a moment of ultra burnout. So I put the gas tank in the fire. Manuel and Keith scream. "It's going to blow!" Then run for there lives. Billy runs up and punt the gas tank like a foot ball and it spews flames all over his house. Now imagine Billy's blind and partially deaf mother (Its true, and we also got Billy put into a God rehab for a year because his house was like drug heaven. Sorry Billy) wheeling herself to a flaming window to bitch because of all the noise. Billy's like, "Noooooooo!" Then runs to stomp and wave the flames out. Billy covered in gas lights up like a dubbie and runs in circles around the yard.

When I went to stop the flames I to lit up. It this moment, because I'm tripping... I have a flash back of my 4th grade teacher telling me to stop drop and roll. So I stop, drop, and roll... The next thing you know I stand up and am like, "Shit, those Mother Fuckers weren't lying!" "Billy!" "Stop, drop, and roll, I shouted!" Instead Billy who was free ballin at the time took of his shorts and ran into the house streaking everyone on the block who all came with there children I may add. To watch and do nothing but watch. (Assholes) The whole time our friend Josh (Who is like 9 ft tall and has a parsley sprig for a brain) is like, "Oh shit, Oh shit nigger, Oh shit, see don't play with fire." (Asshole stood there too)

To make along story short... I walked home tripping nuts, while everybody eventually gathered at Billy's. the fire department came, and its house rules that who ever isn't present to defend themselves, committed the whole crime. So I became this known arsonist in Kissimmee until I turned 18. Billy also had to carry the burnt gas tank into school the next day and show everybody as he lowered his head in shame and explained the dangers of fire during an assembly.

If you liked my story then tell me, because I've got the craziest group of drug addict friends in the whole world. So I've got plenty of more stories as well.

From: Shorty Bobness Subject: this is fucked

'sup man well this is my first acid story. I've had the chance to take acid before but its taken me a while to try it cause a friend of mine was put in a institution over night because he was so messed up.

Anyway me and like 12 friends get a motel 6 room. We put on some screwed music and started playing dominoes, eating, watching TV etc. then Dameons friend comes with the acid. I took 2 drops for my first time....then they tell me each drop is like 2 doses because this guy put in double the acid in his drops. then they tell me a drop is 4 times more effective then on paper... I calculated that I had had about 16 doses and then things started going bad. My gf called and I told her my calculations and she called me an asshole for scaring her and doing so much and then hung up on me. Then I started forgetting things like where I was, who my friends were, and where my house was when I had to leave.

If I looked at the walls they flowed a million colors and messed me up so I kept moving. I also kept seeing people with lit cigs or bags of chips and kept asking for a drag or some chips just to realize it was all a hallucination. those were about the extent of my hallucinations I was just fucked but wasn't trying to see shit because I was so insane/scared and forgot I even took acid. then I started twitching and spazming and I kept hearing people say "bad trip" so I asked what that was and they told me I had acid in me...a lot and I remembered that time and I was trying to think of ways to get the acid out of my head. They told me I kept asking for a knife to "get the acid out of my head" but I don't remember that shit. Then my friends Ted Chapa and Chris took me home since they were crashing at my place and got me up to my room without getting caught even though at that point I didn't know it was my room. Also I tried to jump out the truck for some reason but Chapa's on varsity football and about 250 so I wasn't going anywhere.

They took me home and Chris gave, me a doc otis and Ted tried to take it away from me because I was spazming and I HATE getting my shit fucked up. But I had bonded to that doc and I still didn't know who he was so I said "I don't know or give a fuck about you and ill punch you in your face if you touch my doc!" well then I laid there and it all came back to me real fast that it was my room and my friends. I was so damn happy to understand and be there in my room. Well Ted took some x at my house and while peaking went out to Kroger to buy dominoes and we played that shit till we they went to sleep me who took tewo and Chapa who took 1 drop didn't sleep at all just laid in bed. my brain was completely fried for a day afterwards but it was the most fun shit I've ever done and that my first acid trip right there.

Close call - From: Stole77

Christmas, 1995. The previous couple of months had been good for us weedheads who tried to avoid the local hash and just get da herb. Although, as it is in many smaller cities, the danger of getting busted was always around. Since that October, we had been privy to getting excellent buds - $40/eighth, $75/quarter. It was always around… The guy selling it was one hell of a good guy, but a definite heat score. Hung around with various other small-time criminal types and had somewhat of a rough clientele. Regardless, I got along well with him, but was always pretty nervous leaving his place, as there had been busts.

Just before Christmas, the dude and his wife had a big fight and she kicked him out. So, his place of residence was always changing. It was at this point that three friends and myself decided to take him up on the offer of buying a quarter-pound all at once and getting out of the hassle and worries for awhile.

At this time, the dude was living in a really old house just outside of town. This house always seemed to have some connection to crime - a person had actually been murdered in it around five years before. The landlord must have been some local criminal overlord. Anyway, this house stood right on top of a hill - nothing around it to provide any security from the prying eyes of the narcs.

A buddy and myself made three separate visits. The first time, he didn't have the weed. The second time, we had to leave the coin and come back. We came back and finally got the bud, after sitting around with dude's scary new roommates, waiting for the weed to be weighed. We finally got it - took the loaf of bread-size bag home with no worries - although the drive was fucking scary. Getting caught with that much ruled out the possibility of claiming it as personal possession, and brought you into the trafficking category. But we made it.

The next day, one of my friends was caught smoking by his father. This was like the third time he had been caught - plus his father was a zealous reformed alcoholic - who flipped out. Threatened to call of our parents and the police. So, I decide to play it safe and tell my parents, because my friend's father was pretty fucking unpredictable. So I tell the folks 'Just in case you hear any crazy rumors, yes I do smoke a little marijuana. But that's it. I don't sell it, grow it or anything.'

Their response was surprising. My mother says 'Oh, we know. The police called me and said to tell you to be careful or you were going to be arrested for marijuana.'

It turns out the police had been watching my dealer, had been taking license plate numbers, etc. My car was registered in my mother's name, and rather than busting me outright, they called and fucking told on me…which, I guess is better than busting me. No worries from the folks. I suppose they figured even if I was smoking pot, it wasn't affecting me in an ill way.

If you didn't like this story, I'll get my boy Ignant to tell about getting stopped for suspicion of possession --- it turns out, he didn't have anything on him. But the fucking cops searched in the middle of the street. Looked in his wallet, found a Subway stamp, and said, "I got some blotter here." Fuck.

back in the days of high school - From: john barbara anna claire jacob

So me and my best friend Shane are sittin at his house drinkin a 5th of Beam as we always did day in and day lost,when we came to the realization that there were a couple girls comin over and we were all out of grass...and unfortunately out of cash ,out of fronts and out of things decent to pawn...We needed smoke and we needed it quickly...So i remind my ol buddy about a kid named Kieth who had a quarter still that we had sold him about two weeks ago...A few things to know about old Kieth:

1.he is and was a complete fucking moron
2.he only smoked pot so people would find him cool
3.he wouldn't smoke his shit with you unless you were going to help improve his cool status and since we knew he was a jackoff we were not gonna participate
4.he was a leach
5.and finally he rarely smoked and had buried his bag in the yard like a pirate waiting only to dig it up when the right time came....i.e.-he needed someone to like him

But hell fuck it we needed smoke fast and he lived close....so we call him up and after what seamed like forever convinced him to sell us the bag back and in turn we would hook him up good the next day...but we still had no money, no money, no money...So we come up with the idea to roll up a bunch of fake joints(which contained matchheads pieces of playing cards and oregeno but mostly matchheads) so about fifteen minutes later Kieth shows up...i guess it wasn't buried to deep...we look at the bag and i tell him i wanna buy it in joints, and tell him i'm gonna roll it all up ....he says fine whateve

I proceed in rolling the first joint...after a joint would be rolled i would pass it to Shane who would then switch it with one of the fugazi joints we had rolled earlier...after the entire bag was rolled and the switches had been made i put all the fake joints into his bag and told him that we had changed our minds and didnt want it cause we were gonna try to get a deal on an ounce,but hey at least you got em all rolled now...Kieth isn't to bright a fella either...so he just said whatever and went on....Ah now we had smoke...all had went as planned until about 10 minutes later when Mike a good friend of ours came over saying he had just bought some joints off him and had nearly burnt his eyebrows off when he lit one (ha ha ha...the matchhead booby trap had worked) well we told Mike that ol Kieth must have pulled an okey doke on him cause we had just told him to get lost for tryin to sell some bullshit...In the end Mike got his money back, Kieth looked like the punk
he truly was,and me and ol shane got the girls stoned and got laid...awww memories...