Posts Tagged ‘Stoned’

Time Waster

I’ve told you about my hand problems but I haven’t told you about the chaos that has ensued as a result of my visit to the GP. On presentation, she told me that I had a specific disease and that it was in no way related to my use of neat bleach on my hands when doing the cleaning. The day after my visit to see her, all my ‘symptoms’ miraculously disappeared. However, I got on to my private health people and got a claim form, found a consultant (who I chose because he looked like Barry Gibb circa 1970, complete with brown beard), got the referral filled in by the GP (yet to be collected and fee paid) and then found out that my excess is £250 – ah, maybe that’s why my premiums are so low!? I decided to put the whole sorry business on the back-burner, during which time I have used bleach again and lo and behold, I have had what I would have called a ‘severe attack.’ So obviously this is good news because it means I’m not sick (except perhaps in the head) but it is also potentially bad news because insurance companies being as they are, something has now gone down on my records and there’s nothing even wrong with me. When stoned goes bad.

** NO, REALLY **



Candlelight Becomes Me

My eyes are particularly light sensitive – Mr Peters told me that it’s because I wear sunglasses all year round, he said that if I live to be really old that I will need to wear them permanently indoors too. I prefer to operate in natural light (behind glasses if outdoors) or in semi  darkness. In the mornings I get dressed and made up in the dark, avoiding my reflection thereafter. Every night I have a candle lit bath. In the dim candlelight, through end of day stoned eyes, I look  lovely, a flawless vision belying reality, a vision that proves that all my potions and creams are definitely doing the trick. It’s only the occasional glimpse of myself during the day that brings home the reality of what an utter state I actually look to the outside world!

** IN TRUTH **



The Chaos Continues

I am smoking myself insane. No sooner have I done some task, I have to go back and put it right. Last week I walked to Kenwood and came back via East Finchley High Road, where I purchased some Dead Sea shampoo for Honey – which he rejected out of hand and so therefore had to return to obscure chemist (at least there is a more local one in Finchley Central). I took back the offending shampoo and swapped it for my favourite hand-cream, which I probably would not have bought that day for £16.50 but minus the shampoo there was only £8 to pay, so I had it. Fine. On returning home and opening the said hand-cream, it was congealed, the scent was in tact but it was a pretty unpleasant texture. So this morning I decided to return it, without a receipt of course because it had been a swap … actually I’d probably just lost the receipt as soon as I left the shop … so in I went, explained that I must have picked up an old tester and then I promptly smashed the pot of cream on the floor by accident. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, ‘however, it was off, so it does need to go in the bin anyway.’ She bent down to pick up the shards of glass, mumbling not to worry and to take a fresh one and I walked out of the shop, ‘My job here is done.’




“The road ahead is smooth, why throw obstacles before you?”

If it is true that you only live once then why not do the things that make you happy? I like smoking weed, it makes me happy. If I did not like it then I would cease to do it but why suffer with addictions; why not just enjoy it? I asked my friend, who not only suffers with MS but also suffers with multiple addictions, all of which he is in recovery for and is thoroughly miserable about! Another friend of mine just wants to sit down and drink her bottles of wine without being branded an alcoholic by her family, ‘Why can’t we sit down and enjoy a drink? …  Why can’t I drink a bottle of wine while I’m making dinner?’, she said – at nearly 70 years old there’s no good reason that I can see. We are all going to die one day, so let’s enjoy our choices and embrace our addictions if it makes us happy and live ’til we die.

“Taking a ride to nowhere, please step inside”

Proper Stoned

I am what I would describe as ‘proper stoned’. This is  the sort of stoned I aspire to. This is the sort of stoned where I see things that are not there and hear things that are not being said. I love it!!

This is the sort of stoned that one cannot achieve on a budget – even if that budget is £60-110 per week. Being on a budget means that weed is precious, you eek it out, you smoke it to feel normal and that’s the best you can hope for.

TC told me that it says in the religious books that smoking your own weed makes it seven times more delicious – and once again he is right.

Overdosing on weed is a privilege reserved for growers and I am happy that I did because now I am proper stoned and will be for the foreseeable future.


Weed Today

It has been a few posts since I mentioned the weed situation. After my phenomenal failure, things got back on track. Doc miraculously got some very nice puff and he does nice big bags (a bit pricey, but drugs are). We seem to be in a groove whereby he steps it and I collect and pay on tick. Can’t say fairer than that. Now that I am comfortably back in my rut – I have weed to smoke, I do not run out –  I think I will lie low until my next epiphany comes upon me – hope it’s not too soon. My bush in the garden is growing like a dream, it has about 15 ‘arms’ and they’re covered in bud. Although it’s been raining a lot, at least it’s not freezing and we are having some sunshine and it seems to be flourishing. However, the high winds don’t make it too happy. I would say it’s got about another six weeks to go so, fingers crossed, I’m going to have a very merry Christmas.


Failed Good & Proper

I am ashamed to report that I failed on every front in terms of my decision to quit weed this week. As you will be aware, I failed miserably yesterday when Dozy W visited. I also failed today in terms of not scoring under any circumstances. I just could not help it. I’m not even going to go into the details about how I was so good because I only scored twenty quid’s worth because I scored when I said that I wouldn’t. Acting out was a relief. Now I feel a bit deflated but hey, let’s see what happens after this little bag of rip off has been smoked and then I can reassess again. Blimey, I wish I could just wave a magic wand and I could think differently about this whole thing and it would all be over but that obviously ain’t going to happen. This is the  reason why I actually never bother to tackle this problem; because as soon as I do it all goes haywire. All in all a waste of a bloody week, with stress and wasting everybody’s time with something that I just can’t seem to achieve. Fuck, what a waster!



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