Warning: This post will describe some disturbing events. Do not try this at home.
Americans might be familiar with this brand, or at least that's what an American companion of mine told me. Haze is a strong and relatively expensive sativa found at an awesome coffeeshop named The Glory, which I will also describe on a later occasion.
We had our first house party at our student “village” which included a lot of alcohol. I had brought my longbow and we had a peace pipe session with the Thai skunk that I still had left, for obvious reasons. It got us a mellow buzz, and along with the growing tipsiness made an enjoyable evening. Later on, when the host ran out of beer and we switched to the liquors (read: everyone was pissed like giggling teenagers) my American buddy started rolling a blunt from the Haze he had bought earlier. (Blunts seem to be an American thing too, in Europe it’s all the rage with joints; of course, hashish is impossible to smoke in a blunt and that was a new thing to the visitor from across the great ocean too. Anyway, back to the story.)
|'MURRIKAH, FUCK YEAH!|
The blunt went around in a small circle and I got really god damn blazed. My only option was to chug up on whiskey and have challenging conversations with the people around, I acted like I was suffering from a malfunctioning hippocampus. You know, like the guy in Memento. Suffice to say, I have little recollection about the events that lead to the next chapter.
Too many decilitres of whiskey later, we continued with the blunt, which was a mistake on my part. Not many minutes later, I felt an excruciating urge to vomit. That I did as soon as I reached the bathroom. So I was playing tetris, which is ridiculously difficult when you’ve just thrown up. Damn blocks move too fast and controlling them was like pole-dancing.
Then I woke up. On the bathroom floor. It took me actual seconds to realize where I was. Panic. I got to get out of here. Right fucking now. I grabbed my jacket and went out without saying a word to anyone. I just had to get out. I couldn’t have been more thankful for living just a few hundred metres away. After a dozen trials I finally got my door open. My neurotic roommate was staring at me from the kitchen like a deer in the headlights. She said hi, I said hi, and disappeared into my room like a ninja. Some crazy dreams later I woke up and went to gather my stuff I had left at the party. I was destroyed.
Haze, you are my K2.