so recently ive been making these nine hour drives twice a month down to san diego because the tar up here in the bay area and points north just doesnt cut it anymore. consequently i have more potent dope than anyone else in the area. well this dude who has been hanging out smoking speed with my gf and some other ppl wanted to get a bag off me, so i broke him off less than a tenth and put it in his spoon, and put about another tenth in a bag for him for later. i told him not to do the whole shot and warned him that its stronger than anything in sf and to hit it slow without a tie on and wait until he felt it before he finished and yada yada yada. so he does his first shot and his face turns grey but hes ok otherwise. i tell him so and he starts going on about how i'm full of it and he used to do a gram a day for seven years blah blah blah. me and other dude start telling him that thats exactly how people die, when they used to have a tolerance and do a shot that they used to be able to handle but is now way too much for them. i tell him not to do another shot for at least an hour or two and he says fine. bout fifteen minutes later i hear my girlfriend start screaming. this asshole is in my study, blue and not breathing in my la-z-boy chair. guess what the genius did? the whole rest of the bag i sold him. well after about fifteen minutes of dog barking and slapping him around and filling his jockeys with ice cubes and ransacking the house for that damn vial of narcan and bringing the hose in and spraying him down, he finally starts moving around. we get him up and walking back and forth, start cleaning up a bit, soaking up puddles of ice water and snot and vomit and blood (i got enthusiastic with the smacking). so after about a half hour of pacing the hallway with him he finally gets coherent enough to shove my arm off of him and look at me and say (get this):
"brother, you're overreacting."
some fuckin people, huh?
"brother, you're overreacting."
some fuckin people, huh?
