by The_Blode » Sat Aug 20, 2016 1:11 am
I don't remember. Not in a "haha i was so drunk" kind of way but rather I simply don't know when or where it would have been, how drunk i got, anything. Not something I ever stored in memory. I have two tales though. The *most* drunk I've been was at a party with a bunch of co-workers when I worked for the government doing IT work. The people lived on site at the research center, and it was a thursday. So I'm spitting distance from my job, I have to work at the next morning, and I'm preparing to chug down a whole bottle of rum to myself. I did. And then some. I remember little but I recall telling off the owner of the house about how his TV is set up, saying I know best because I'm a computer guy, I threw up in a vent, and I hit on this poor girl who I'd only ever seen in passing for over an hour solid. I woke up at 7, no idea when i fell asleep, found my roommate (who also worked there), and she said she wasn't going to work.
I felt great so i drove home, changed, showered, and drove back. I was at work for a solid 3 hours before it set in that I was still drunk and only just starting to come off the effects. Me and the girl I hit on had a long conversation on the lunch break about hangovers and how easy they are to avoid for the most part if you just drink loads of water along with the alcohol.
And I'm pretty sure I've told this story somewhere, but my first time properly smoking weed was the day my colleague invited me over to learn how to play, yep, Haven and Hearth. He always offered it to me when i was there, but I either declined or evidently didn't inhale properly so I never got the effects. This time I was determined to do it right, and I did. I struggled to follow his directions, time seemed to occasionally grind to a near halt, and I had no idea what the sprite for ants was supposed to represent, thinking it was some red static mess from hell.
I drove (!) home, put on the TV, and made a snack. The TV was super loud so I kept having to turn it down, and my popcorn tasted like shit. My girlfriend got home to find me lying there with the TV on damn near minimum volume and a bowl full of popcorn covered in salt, dill pickle popcorn seasoning, and for some reason a bunch of garlic powder.
I went a good year or two after that where i only smoked pot three or four times (i even bought some and some papers but wound up selling it back to the guy i got it from when he was dry and really wanting it). After that, when we got our house, I got a bit more into it and eventually it got to the point where it was a nightly thing. And here we are. My consumption hasn't gone up in years (tiny one-hitter pipe i hit twice in an evening generally) but I feel like I'm dependent on it to combat stress and anxiety (the wife says i used to be a lot more uppity before i smoked regularly but i said not to tell me that because it enables my habit further)
I like the plant and it's effects, I hate the grip it has on me, but I prefer it to anti-anxiety pills and shit that most doctors prescribe without a second thought. My recommendation has never wavered despite my inability to practice what i preach: Don't do drugs.
![¦]](./images/smilies/troll.gif "Trollface")
