So my friend decides to spread the wealth to her homies. She writes me a mischieviously cryptic email of an envelope I should recieve by mail. At first I thought she was passing along sugar cubes. The thought of which almost made me plotz. I've been looking for some good paper for a while now. Last stuff I had was the South Park sheets that were floating around NYC a couple of years ago, and it was mellow nice stuff, but not too psychotropic. And I'm looking to freak my balls off. In a later email she admitted to sending herb not paper. That was over a month ago.

So, having completly blown off that package. Da mailman smoke my herb, iree! Coming across an off white envelope from Amsterdam in my box this Friday, was a superbly pleasant surprise. I was so anxious that I started opening it while going up in the eleveator to my floor. But no no. Calm down. Wait until your in your crib.

It was flattened like a pressed flower. All the moisture had left days ago. There seemed to have been three healthy buds in the little baggie. Smelled so herbacious, light, and spring time fresh. I literally got a chubbie from sniffing it. I get to rolling.

I have to mention here that I'm a sorta nuts when it comes to rolling a bone. I like it to be symetrical, packed nice, and with a decent paper filter. And its gotta look purty enough to hang in a stoner museum.

I waited for Damian to show up, letting the little devil dry out from my sealing lick. Ate the tiny twig the bud came on and sucked all the dust from my fingers. Thirty minutes later, still waiting, haven't lit up yet, and I starting flying anyway. I was stoned from just the crystals that I gobbled off of my fingers and the little twig. I knew that the weekend was gonna be trouble.

He arrives and we spark up.

I would like to personally give the largest possible shout out to the horticulturalists of Denmark.

The next day I woke up still high. Which prompted a wake and bake. Reminiscent of my NYU days. Best shower I've had in a long time. I decided I was going to try and remain stoned all weekend long. Wasn't hard at all, and I still have half the bag left. Chores were even amusing. Doing laundry listening to Fat Boy Slim, Leftfield, and Underworld on my headphones was sweet. Didn't even mind the idiot weekend crowds at the bars. And for whatever reason, I honestly do not know and will never try and figure it out, but chicks like it when I'm all goofy and giggly. Nice.

Retirement in Amsterdam......hmmmmmmm. I can learn Danish.