Having been a bit heavy on the famously quality Chinese and Indian rugs 8), I thought I was in for a rough day at work. The only benzo I took last night was .25mg flubromazolam. I fought it for ages but, at some indistinguishable point, I just fell asleep. I awoke to a collection of unwatched filth. I was a bit stumbly for a few minutes. I smoked a synth joint and did the needful on the porceilin throne, while reading the news, including if there was anything new interesring on the official DPRK website
Definitely worth a look, but only if you have similar status to myself (A Don; Rons, Hamishes, former competitors in the cut-throat world of
Pogs..people who have experienced the slammer in nicest way possible). Otherwise, GCHQ/NSA will be all over you. They want to swab your hardware for DNA and clone computers, just like in that sci-fi film..I don't really watch them but I'm sure it's been done - I've seen 'Arachnoquake'
I decided to treat myself to a nice long shower so I ordered a taxi to take me to work just before my shift. I have known the driver since I was a child so he knew I was still fucked from the night before where I'm told I impersonated a police man, with my LED torch, when he came to pick someone up from my house. I was reprimanding him for arriving six minutes early and for the lack of tread on his brand-new tires. I was also repeatedly refering to him as 'Ianus' and myself as 'Don Luigi' %)
Today I smoked the perfect dose of the synth in a joint, insuffulated 20mg MPA and jumped in for a long shower filled with singing rebel songs. Washing, was of course included. Après la douche, I vaped a small dose of 3-fpm, managed to eat some breakfast and had plenty of time to play on my newly-borrowed pink ukelele :D
The actual snoo was that I felt better than I have in a long time today. I was left to run both shops on my own. I didn't feel benzo grogginess, no stim jitteryness, no sweating, no loss of appetite, didn't stress out when I had a lot of customers in and was giving priority to the special needs customers. It didn't hamper my mental maths skills. I was using it, instead of the till as they approached the counter as I know the price of all things, how close I was when I rang it through. I was very successful, mostly due to how many of our prices have 9 as the final digit. I was on fire with the customers, creating new returners.
It feels good now, but now when they return and I'm a sober, crabbit mess, I will have to suffer their stories about how they were short changed in the pub and how it's strange that there was snow when they left their mountain farm, but it's clear in the town. How much longer can I say 'Uck, aye..''?
Anyway, besides its voluminous nature, every word that described and contextualised my snoo is relevant. So fuck Will Smith.
I've never been...
