But to get to the bottom of my story. My first couple times were nothing, but the one time I remember (or don’t remember if you want to put it that way) was when I was sixteen. Our town has a fair called Home-Comers (sounds dirty, I know. If only you knew what went on there ;])that was up at the time. My friend Chrissie was having a birthday party there, and it was lame and drama-filled, so a couple of us decided to ditch. We said we were going to the store to get ’soda’ which really meant ‘Go to Holly’s house and get the joint.’ We are cruising around our rural back-roads (county cruising) and Holly sparks up the joint and passes it to Nicki, then me.

This is at about sunset. It was where the sun was just starting to go over the trees. I take about four hits and the next thing I know it’s dark outside and we’re still driving around. The first thing that came out of my mouth is “Where the fuck are we and why the fuck are we still in this car?” They both look at me like I’m retarded and say it’s only been like five minutes since they threw the joint out. I start throwing a fit. Soon after that, we’re lost in a part of town that’s littered with random construction that no one ever seems to work on. Nicki’s stopping at stop signs that aren’t there, the glare from her headlights on the street signs seem be assaulting me from outside of the vehicle.

Soon enough, though we’re back at the skate park where the party had apparently moved to. Word to the wise: Never, EVER, under any circumstances try to run up a half pipe while completely blazed. It just doesn’t work that way, and gravity is not on your side. I got blood all over Nicki’s car.

Also, merry-go-rounds are fucking awesome, along with Doritos, and blue raspberry slushies.