Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Don't Drop The Hemp Soap

"Dude, there is nothing better than just getting stoned and taking a long fucking shower."

This was one of the more disturbing things I heard over the weekend. I mean, I'm all for a well deserved, warm shower to kick start a cold morning. Hell, I am for cold showers to kick start overdose victims too. Showers are great. You'll hear no argument against them from me. But smoking weed before hand?

My argument against that is quite simple.

1.Doing weed can make me paranoid.
2. When I am naked and in enclosed spaces, I don't want to be paranoid. Naked in an open or public space? I think that's probably a lot better, but if I'm stoned, I'm going to be paranoid. I'd probably end up with people were looking at me, and/or thinking the police were out to get me.
3. That's that.

I also don't want to be thinking, "Shit did I lather and rise already? I really don't want to repeat." Cause I mean, I'd be too stoned, man! Then I'd probably peak out and watch the tv I put on the sink next to my Mountain Dew and rib sandwich. But that's just me.

I didn't want to just shoot down my friend for being a drug addled soap head. That would have been too easy anyway.

I was 20 years old and had what I could best describe as a dilapidated a"party"ment in Mission Hill.It was the year I was living the Mikey Seaver life and lived all of a 5 minute walk away from my parents house, where I'd drop by for free laundry and real life situational comedy (sans Stabone). I had the day off from work and was sitting on beer cans and boxes in my living room with my roommate, who I think was sitting on trash and mice. I had mentioned off hand to him a short time before that if I had decided to smoke weed I'd do it with him. It wasn't really my thing and it made me too paranoid. But it was the beginning of spring and we were going to walk to the Otherside Cafe, so I figured I'd take marijuana and take IN nature. But honestly I think its because we were listening to Black Sabbath and are typical white dorks.

It had probably been a few months since I had last puffed tasty nugs ,bruh, so needless to say I was a bit disoriented but not uncomfortable.

I did have to use the bathroom before we left though.

Our door was hanging on half of a hinge due to the hands and/or feet of some real patient and intelligent person, so you had to kind of lift it back onto its hinge to get it to open and close.

I was sitting and just became deep in thought. My mind was racing because I wasn't used to smoking and preparing myself to answer such questions to myself such as

"Why is a muscle on the side of my neck twitching?"
"Are people going to know I'm high?"
"Do they already know?"

And that's when it hit me.

What it was, took a few seconds to register because I was, all of a sudden, on the ground.

It was the fucking bathroom door.

As I was off in la la land, the door finally decided that it was the best time to finally fall off that half a hinge. It came down and smashed into the crown of my head and brought me tumbling down.

My roommate must have thought Jamie Lee Curtis was in the bathroom because he answered those screams for help mighty fast.

But not before laughing hysterically at me with my pants down trapped underneath a door. The only consolation I have is that the nails we had on the door to hang our towels didn't impale my skull. But looking back on it now, maybe that's the kind of fate I deserved.

"Folks, I'm sorry. Your son didn't make it. But we need you to I.D. the body at the morgue. Hes on the last slab. Yeah, the one with his hemp pants down wearing a tie dye shirt, beads, rasta hat and big white bathroom door with nails hat.Yup, the one with the dopey grin and half shut eyes. Stinkin' of patchouli. What a dope. We even pronounced him a Dope On Arrival."

So with that cautionary tale, I implore you. Be careful in there. Elvis didn't listen to me either.

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