i was stoned one day and wrote some of this. i posted it in the mj forum, and then posted a follow up part 2. tell me what sucks and what doesnt. my friend and i were in a piss. now we could keep going. ah yes, going. going to cananda, fucker! there, the weed flows freely like sex from your mother and police will light you up. at least thats what i saw online somewhere. and it intrigued me. i said "huh". and then i got my friend. and left. my friends name is alex. ahhhh alex he is a crazy motherfucker. kid smokes a lot of grass. but thats what we were about. i've seen those kids get all into cocaine all into meth all into lsd, but not me and alex. we prefered the simple things in life. riding down the road while stoned is an experience. i was driving a 69 yenko camaro that i stole from this kid named matt. i find it hillarious. the kid based his entire social life on this car. seriously every picture of him or mention of him usually involved the yenko, and he encouraged it, as he knew no one would ever talk about him or to him if it wasnt for that car. and we got bored so we decided to steal it. and totally rip apart his social life. we are badass. like i said we were headed to mexico. oh fuck no its canada. i'm on the wrong road. no wait i'm on the right one. yeah. we'll make it there in no time at all. driving from florida to cananda can only take like a couple days right? maybe we should settle for california. what am i saying we can't settle. we're men, and as men we get what we want. if we want to fuck your wife and daughter at the same time, we will! we're men and we do that. you gotta problem with that? go fuck a duck. we pulled into a gas station, due to the fact that we were indeed out of gas. it seems a waste to spend money on stuff like gas. it goes so fast and what does it get us? a ride around town? so? why drive? flying is cheaper. about 100bucks an ounce if u know the right people. i filled the tank up and decided paying was for retards so we left. then alex decided he wanted food, which is understandable since we were approximately fourty-five minutes into a high and the munchies were coming on schedule. i may have forgotten to mention that we were only about ten blocks from my home, as for some undiscovered reason i continously grew deftly afraid whenever the goddamn spedometer read above 15. the nammie weed will do that to you, or maybe the fact that i was driving a very sexy car and wanted to use it to get some ass before me and alex beat the shit out of it. either way, we were near my girlfriends house and she usually has food. my girlfriend is an idiot. she continously hassles me to stop smoking. says its bad for me. the idiot part is the fact that she is the only one in town that doesnt realize i'm the biggest stoner on earth and quitting is not even an option. its not even a joke. quitting. thats not even funny. so anyways she continously hassles me like saying stuff such as "i saw a commercial that says a joint is as bad as four ciggarettes" is gonna make me drop my weed, look up to the sky, and start praising fucking god for redeeming me from this horrible curse. haha. but i love her. her name is christina. i hate the name, now that i write it. it seems like some cheerleader whore that u get drunk at a party, bone, and never call. no, her name definetly doesnt do her justice. she is the culmination of all the girls i've ever met. they all had their unique little characteristics that i found extremely endearing, yet usually the only other thing they had going for them is boobs and a vagina. no, christina has it all, all those things that give me a positive outlook on girls in general, she has. but fuck that this isnt some disgusting beatles song. we pulled up to christinas and walked in without knocking. her parents looked up from a pile of bills and stared at us. "Do you guys smoke pot?" the asked. "Only when we wanna get high," I replied. The air was thick and me and alex were sweating. i knew from the moment the words left my mouth i regretted them, wishing i had said something witty and dashing such as "No". Mr. Stockholme stared at us for about ten seconds before replying. "Then you're never seeing my daughter again." "Fuck you!" screamed alex, startling the shit out of me. why would alex put so much emotion into saving my girlfriend? if anything he disliked her presence, once telling me that she took up too much of my time. Christina then came down, wide eyed and looking at me and alex, then glancing to her father, then back and forth. i couldnt tell if she was trying to get a giggle or not, but if she was she definetly wasnt achieving her goal. "Christina," mr stockholme said, "your boyfriend and his functionally retarded buddy are not allowed to see you anymore. i found a bag of marijuanna in your room and have spoken to several students at your school, confirming that all three of you are stoners." i chuckled to myself as i watched christinas eyes get a little bigger and take on a gasp of real astonishment that gave away her formally fake disposition. this girl worried too much. her dad will forget, the guy drinks so much anyways. and its strange cause he's not a drunk poor guy, christinas family was pretty well off. but my god this guy cant remember shit and is always drinking. he had a bottle of rain sitting next to him at the moment, and christina acts like this is the end of her life. "Mr stockholme," i said, "you are fucking crazy. dont you know that we are all a part of S.A.D.D.?" The old son of a bitch eyed me suspiciously. "What's 'sad'?" he asked. "Students Against Destructive Decisions," i replied as i took off my jacked to reveal a shirt reading "USE THE BRAINS YOU GOT AND DONT SMOKE POT" with a small "S.A.D.D." symbol near the bottom. The old man couldnt believe his eyes. he seemed a tad drunk, but other than that i was surprised i was making him fall for it. he couldnt have too much in his system as he was standing nearly still, but he genuinely seemed to believe we were drug free. "Well," he mumbled, trying to remember what he was going to say, "well, why did christina have marijuana in her room?" "daddy it was for a report on marijuanna for SADD," christina jumped in. "its not really marijuanna, but a mixture she gave us that looks and smells like marijuanna so we can study it. its all synthetic material." that sealed the deal. her father apologized and christina pretended to be slightly pissed, but other than that fine. "So what are you kids doing today?" he asked. "me and alex are going to canada for a SADD project," i replied, boldly milking the flimsy SADD story for all it was worth, "and we were coming by to pick up christina. we'll be back in a month, maybe." "alright," he said, sipping vodka and coke, a disturbing combination. "be good." and with that we had rescued christina from the ungodly clutches of her parents. now me and alex's parents was a different story. we were too high to give a fuck and were never coming back anyways. we piled into the yenko. "how much weed do we have?" asked christina. "two pounds," replied alex. sounds crazy but its true. alex's parents are extremely pro pot and they have a massive ware house directly for growing marijuanna. the kid was a lucky fuck and i'd hang out with him even if i didnt like him, which i did. we got on the interstate and i began to drift. its strange how marijuanna barely impares my driving. i cant drive worth a shit when i'm drunk, but stoned i just miss exits and little things like that.
heres the second part i posted. i may keep going but now people might expect that and i hate doing the expected:: christina convinced me it was perfectly safe to drive fifty miles an hour, and once i got the hang of it again she had to get me to slow down. i settled into a comfortable 80 mphs and began to think. for some reason, i had had tetris on my mind for months. i had recently purchased a cell phone which had the game on it and i was soon blowing my friends away with my amazing skills. no one could match me. of course its a little sad that a main thing on my mind was tetris. another big thing on my head was a girl i had sex with the day before. her name was, um...rachel. yes, rachel. no...jessie...no wait that was her sister. yes rachel. i had only met her once before and barely talked to her then, but she rode her bike a fuckload to meet me at the mall (which i luckily live next to) and after about two hours we went to my house. no one was home so we had sex on my couch. she was good, and i liked her alot. her personality and all that. i mean, i love christina, but lately she feels less interested. well this trip should tell me whether or not the relationship will go on. if it doesnt, i wont miss her. i never miss people. once i lose themm its just "okay, who's next?" somepeople think it's cruel, but its just how i am. christina was working cd's, a sacred job. she was sitting in the middle between me and alex, making her dj. luckily i married a girl with good music tastes, and we worked through every single cd the beatles made, stopping to make love at the first song of meet the beatles and the last song of let it be. alex was dozing off in a stoned slumber, so it wasnt much trouble. we moved onto pink floyd. we listened to dark side of the moon, and then a mix cd of jefferson airplain and floyd. we were continously smoking grass on our trip up florida, until we ran into jacksonville. and there we ran into some trouble. now i'm aware of marijuanna laws. for some reason a piece of nature, a simple plant, has become illegal. while we're putting useless ass plants and animals on these goverment protection lists, a wonderous and amazing plant like canabis is ordered to be destroyed, shutting out its possibilities in the world. luckily people like me an alex are here to ensure the man doesnt succeed. a policeman pulled us over for speeding. not a shock, i have seven speeding tickets (all paid for, as the good citizen that i am) and my car has a radar detector in it. as the officer got out of her car i realized, of course, that she would have to run the numbers on the car and it was probably reported stolen by now. now this she-cop, she was a beauty. about 22, italian, and had no trouble buttoning a few buttons down if she's feeling "hot". she rolled up to our window, i rolled the window down, and she flinched a little. oh shit, i remembered, this place ranks of pot. pretending to not notice, i smiled dashfully and asked what the problem was. she eased into a smile and told me that i was speeding. now if she gave me a ticket, she'd have to run my numbers. so i smiled back and told her that i saw a beautiful female cop and, being a married man, didnt feel i could bear to be near that policewoman any longer. i feared my shameless display of ass kissing had popped her radar, but i had her at hello. she told me she'd give me a five minute headstart so i didn't have to worry about that problem, said hello to christina, and walked back to her car. we continued on til savannah georgia. ah, savannah. i don't believe theres a place in the world i'd rather be than here. the streets are the beautiful, the history is rich, the street musicians i know by name and the food is great. i convinced alex this would be the place to crash for tonight, even though it was only five thirty and we could keep going if we were in a rush. but we werent in a rush. we were in savannah. we decided on a quiet evening of seeing an off broadway show at the theater and then heading to a bar for a couple of drinks, fake id's in hand. the show was a rediculous look at music through the twentieth century. as usual, the beatles and other hippy/psychadellic artists were played down in favor of plastic trashy singers such as barbara streisand. oh my hate runs deep for that women and other performers of her kind. she brings the literal meaning to the world "performer"--singing songs written with someone elses emotions, just performing and pretending to be a heart broken lover or a romantic juliet on a sunny day. no, these people may have marks as the best selling records in 1964 and other claims, but everyone of these records is sitting in bins at goodwills across the nation. the real music, the beatles, the who, the stones, and other actual songwriters, are sitting on shelves at homes and are being played right now, because they produced something worth shitting on, unlike plastic singers that come and go. after the display of people who have sung other peoples songs throughout the twentieth century was over, we headed to a little bar called the mole hole. i was here before, but i think it was somewhere else. we had a couple drinks when some asshole started hitting on christina. these are the times that worry me. i'm not particularily insecure about christina's faithfulness, but either she's so stupid she cant see a guy is trying to make a pass at her, or shes going with it. i prefer the stupidity excuse, but unfortunately shes a very bright girl. she caught my eye after the guy had used an approach from the will smith movie hitch, putting a tenner in her hand and asking her for three beers. i gave her a look of disconcern, which seemed to break her off from the guy, and she told him she was married. the guy seemed a bit surprised as she had obviously gotten in with a fake i.d. and wasnt near the age of marriage, and laughed nervously. he then slid his hand down her arm and asked if she wanted a drink. i felt a miniature nuclear bomb explode in my head, but i was in a reserved state and so decided to keep watching. she told him again she was married, and he replied she should stop being a bitch and just say so if she didnt want him near her. "so" i said, leaning over to approximately three inches from his face. we glared in eachothers eyes for what seemed like an hour, and then he broke the silence. "who the fuck are you?" he asked. "her husband," i replied as i punched his nose with considerable force. the asshole fell back into a table where two men were casually discussing purchasing a boat. he knocked their beers over and several papers went flying. the businessmen werent the least bit surprised, as one whispered to the other "that was coming," and grabbed the man and hurled him back towards the bar. christina grabbed my arm as i reared back to punch him again, but he fell to the floor in a puddle of beer. the bartender told us to get the fuck out, and i told him it sounded like a pretty good idea. me, alex and christina laughed at the incident all the way back to the hotel. ---- i woke up at six a.m.. for some strange reason, i never get hangovers from a night of drinking. i was, however, a bit burntout from the ganja, but it was the same as being high, and thats how i'm used to operating, so i was fine. i went out and picked up some dunkin doughnuts and a new pipe, as i seemed to have lost mine last night. i got back at seven and kicked some time reading about hunter s. thompson on the internet in the room for two hours, then woke the others up. i told alex it would be a good idea to stay for another day, but he reminded me of the fact that we were still in america and the cannabis laws were just as harsh here as they were back home. convinced, we hopped into the yenko and found our way to the northbound highway.
I got here by accident, i read your story, and i ended up registering just to tell you it was great! It saved my boring day at work... Yeah yeah, keep writing, I wish i was able to write like that
Hey man, I just want to let u know that is some fantastic writing. I read a lot and write and I love your style of writing. It reminds me of Jack Kerouac, if u have never read any of his stuff I highly recomend him, particularly On The Road (its probably his most famous book). Any ways man keep writing and fuck anybody who trys to change ur style and they will. U got the stuff it takes to make it in the writing industry. So once again good fucking job.
Whoa, jojo, you've got a way with words. I love the freudian allusions! They are shocking, but natural. "my friend and i were in a piss. now we could keep going. ah yes, going. going to cananda, fucker! there, the weed flows freely like sex from your mother and police will light you up." When I read your writing, I think of not only Kerouac, but Salinger, too. *hugz* Keep on keeping on, babe.
yeah, i was actually able to read that whole thing without getting bored...it was really nice...keep a journal...write your ass off.
