Posts Tagged ‘Rizla’


I have OWD – Obsessive Weed Disorder. I am self diagnosed. I need the following, everything has to be just so:-

1. Weed

2. Green Rizla (Kingsize)

3. B&H

4. Clipper lighter – they’re not as good as they used to be, they’ve changed the wheel and it hurts your thumb – also, for some reason they hardly give you any flint!

This week I have stressed myself out by changing a) tobacco and b) using a cheap and nasty little electronic lighter – it alters the whole experience and it feels uncomfortable – at the time of writing these issues have been addressed.

OWD drives me round the bend, it keeps me rolling from morning ’til night, when I have to take myself by the hand and say (aloud), ‘Enough, I can’t possibly get any more stoned!?’, even though I don’t really ‘feel’ it, ever.

I love the smell of weed but I am totally desensitised to it – just today Honey said, ‘It stinks of weed in here!’ but I can’t smell a thing. I know that every other fucker can smell it; like in Waitrose the other day, I had a chipped spliff in my hand and five pre-rolls (I was going up to town with Maureen and LJ), customers and staff were sniffing the air, ‘It’s me, sorry’, I said to the cashier, ‘It’s okay,’ she said, ‘we like it.’ I was walking down Oxford Street, when someone burst out of the crowd and pretended to be a copper and asked me if I was smoking marijuana – I pretended I didn’t understand him – Doc told me that if you really get stopped that you’re to tell them that you’re a ‘habitual smoker’ and that makes it alright (my GP can corroborate).

Sparrow was asking how come I’ve not been writing about my weed habit lately and that’s basically because things have been on track for months, there’s been no adversity, the weed has been good and continuous, I now score an extra bag; I feed the weed monster and all is well.





Expect not …

… what others can do for you. The weather is total pants  – last week it was so cold, my fingers came out in sore red chilblains – this week, yes, it’s not freezing now but it’s pissing down with rain. I have not left the house for days, except for taking Son to school, and oh, I did go to the cafe for a bacon sarnie with Moo yesterday morning. Suffice it to say that I have been out of my kind of Rizla for two days. I have been making do with a small packet of green, which are majorly frustrating in as much as you’ve got to stick them together and it’s not as easy as 1, 2, 3, i.e. a pain in the arse. Never mind that every time I have a smoke I get rained on and my garden umbrella did not survive the winds early winds and so is lopsided and does not provide shelter, it’s not much fun. ‘Lurky,’ I said, ‘would you mind running over to the sweet shop and get me some big green Rizla?’ … she considered it and shortly declined on the grounds of ‘It’s raining!’  (although it was not). ‘Hang on,’ she said and she padded off to retrieve her fucking stupid skinny silver Rizlas! I personally don’t think that’s the way to treat your mother but hey, what do I know? I haven’t spoken to mine since 1999. Oh, and by the way, Lurky is ‘going to Camden’ clubbing tonight, which I think is adding insult to injury on two counts.




When I was about 16, mother had absconded and I was living with my dad. One evening I was rooting around in a drawer looking for a packet of big orange Rizla, while my dad looked on, seemingly disinterested. Returning empty handed to my two friends upstairs, we used what we had, when all of a sudden the top of the stable-like door crashed open ‘Here’s Johnny’ style – ‘Is this what you’re look for, dear!?’ he snarled, and he chucked the Rizla down on the floor – result! My friends beat a hasty retreat down two flights of stairs and out of the front door and after a restrained beating from my father, I went to bed and found that Viv had stuck a lit spliff in my bed (which thankfully had gone out), so I laughed to myself and smoked it. I am only recounting this story because last night while I was in the bath, Honey came into the bathroom and wagged a packet of silver king size Rizla in my face, ‘I found these in Lurky’s room,’, he said, ‘you’ve done a really good job on her, well done!!’ – i.e. not well done; the tone was not lost on me. ‘Actually,’ I responded, ‘I must have done something wrong!? Everyone knows that green Rizla are the best.’




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