Sublimesbabe
Bluelighter
Coke and weed - "Professional" - 1/2 Gram
Oops.
Last night was not good.
My friends Wjitney and Tony and I went to go get some coke. Chico Mike, my usual source, was on the other side of town, so we went to the projects and met up with this silly little crackhead affectionately named "D Nice".
We copped the gram, and then I did a preliminary taste test to see how we made off. It wasn't the shit I am normally used to but it seemed decent. I don't usually smoke, but later on we got a blunt of some mids and began smoking.
At this point I've done probably a little less than half a gram to myself, and I've only hit the blunt 6 or 7 times, so I had no reason to believe I would experience any detrimental effects. I was smoking half of someone else's cigarette and I started to feel hot and cold all over. I got dizzy and disoriented, but Whitney had just gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and was upset over the situation, so I didn't want to complicate things unecessarily with complaints of my own. We both wanted to leave immediately.
I was standing on some steps, gripping the railing for dear life, when suddenly I blacked out, crashing down the stairs and hitting my head.
The weird thing though is that noone even noticed how terribly ill I was getting until after I passed out. Probably because they were all too busy getting loaded and bitching about their nonexistant problems to give a shit, but I do distinctly remember Sage looking at me 5 minutes prior to the incident and saying,
"Wow Deborah, you look really pale, are you sure you're all right?"
"Sure... sure...feel great. (Insert dramatic sniff here.)"
Hah.
Unfortunately I wasn't well again for quite some time. I thought I was running somewhere or trying to get to this place on a beach as I was actually falling. Then I felt this painful thud on the side of my head and woke up to see everyone standing around me, but strangely enough I could see myself from their perspectives looking down on me sprawled out on the concrete bloody and stunned like a deer in headlights. That's about the time I began considering the possibility that I might be seriously fucked.
As soon as Tony saw what happened he carried me into the house and layed me on the couch and began interrogating me to see what was wrong. Apparently the cause of the trauma, according to Dr. Tony, was not having eaten anything all that day. I told him I didn't even have time to fucking eat, I woke up at 8 PM and was well on my way to drug ingestion by 12. Shows what he knows.
Long story short, I got fucked up and blacked out, and now my head hurts like hell.
On a positive note, Dr. Tony bought me a Snickers bar on the way home, and shit, they truly do satisfy.
The End.
Oops.
Last night was not good.
My friends Wjitney and Tony and I went to go get some coke. Chico Mike, my usual source, was on the other side of town, so we went to the projects and met up with this silly little crackhead affectionately named "D Nice".
We copped the gram, and then I did a preliminary taste test to see how we made off. It wasn't the shit I am normally used to but it seemed decent. I don't usually smoke, but later on we got a blunt of some mids and began smoking.
At this point I've done probably a little less than half a gram to myself, and I've only hit the blunt 6 or 7 times, so I had no reason to believe I would experience any detrimental effects. I was smoking half of someone else's cigarette and I started to feel hot and cold all over. I got dizzy and disoriented, but Whitney had just gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and was upset over the situation, so I didn't want to complicate things unecessarily with complaints of my own. We both wanted to leave immediately.
I was standing on some steps, gripping the railing for dear life, when suddenly I blacked out, crashing down the stairs and hitting my head.
The weird thing though is that noone even noticed how terribly ill I was getting until after I passed out. Probably because they were all too busy getting loaded and bitching about their nonexistant problems to give a shit, but I do distinctly remember Sage looking at me 5 minutes prior to the incident and saying,
"Wow Deborah, you look really pale, are you sure you're all right?"
"Sure... sure...feel great. (Insert dramatic sniff here.)"
Hah.
Unfortunately I wasn't well again for quite some time. I thought I was running somewhere or trying to get to this place on a beach as I was actually falling. Then I felt this painful thud on the side of my head and woke up to see everyone standing around me, but strangely enough I could see myself from their perspectives looking down on me sprawled out on the concrete bloody and stunned like a deer in headlights. That's about the time I began considering the possibility that I might be seriously fucked.
As soon as Tony saw what happened he carried me into the house and layed me on the couch and began interrogating me to see what was wrong. Apparently the cause of the trauma, according to Dr. Tony, was not having eaten anything all that day. I told him I didn't even have time to fucking eat, I woke up at 8 PM and was well on my way to drug ingestion by 12. Shows what he knows.
Long story short, I got fucked up and blacked out, and now my head hurts like hell.
On a positive note, Dr. Tony bought me a Snickers bar on the way home, and shit, they truly do satisfy.
The End.
