Nov. 13, 2003


I had one of the scariset smoking sessions last night. After Adam and I lost money gambling at the Fire Company, we went with these two guys we met there. One was a hick who was all dirty from working on his Ford truck. The other guy was very scary with long gray hair, and a beard. He was bigger and so so freaky. The hick was well, a hick, but at least he wasn't insane.

The hick and the psycho took us to a garage to smoke. It was all dark except for a kerosene lamp. Adam and I sat on bar stools which were two of the only seats in the place.

We smoked a bowl of Adam's and then a jay of the psycho's homegrown weed.

He was fucking pissing me off too. Half the time I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Whenever he would say something to me, I would respond sarcastically or very rude.

I knew he was weird, but I had no idea exactly how strange he was until he started chanting at the top of his lungs,"PSYCHO-THERAPY!!!PSYCHO-THERAPY!!!"

What a fucking idiot. Needless to say we left shortly after that.

missdahling at 7:28 p.m.