Nostalgia

Nostalgia
Nostalgia

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Road Trip, Cigars, And Other Drugs

I went with a group of friends to see some other friends play a gig a few states away. We were smoking our way across the states and all of a sudden I see a sign that says be prepared to stop, drug check point. State police had several cars pulled over going through their vehicles. I'm thinking if this is anything like the airports their going to pull us.



I'm thinking we are hit. This car must reek of marijuana. One sniff of us and they are going to rip this car apart. I'm also thinking were in Iowa and they don't play. If we get caught they won't even want us flying over their airspace. Non of us had a marijuana license in that state. I'm not even sure if it's legal in that state. My guess is NOT!! I look down into my friends ashtray and it's full of roaches. I start eating them. I must of ate 50 roaches in a matter of minutes and chased it down with a dirty martini that someone had left from earlier. Sometime's you gotta take one for the team. I drank and ate all the evidence so nobody got in any trouble. OH and let me tell you I've never until then had a dirty martini. They are narsty!! Not that I would know but it tastes like dirty pussy. That's what I imagine dirty puss to taste like. God awful stuff and I don't want anymore....



You know what happened the other night? HA! This is stupid funny. I was chillin' on the sofa watching A Scanner Darkly. Yup, I actually watched something...lol And you know what a trip that movie is. No, I wasn't tripping. I gave up halogens many years ago. But I will get bloody stoned.... Anyway, I was watching that movie and found a cigar. Must of been from one of my friends that had stayed here at some point. You know, those guys you see puffin on a cigar. Smoke surrounding them. Looking soooo devilishly yummy smoking that cigar. Yeah, I don't know where that thought came from. Well, I do but were not going off road today. I'm still on my best behavior for the longest time to come... Anyway, men smoking a cigar. No, I found a cigar. Forget about the man smoking one. I found this cigar and thought...You know what I thought.... Jeez, this is starting to be a hard story to tell for such a simple story.... Ok, let's try this again. I found a cigar, thought what I thought and decided I was going to smoke it. Looks like fun, yeah! So I'm puffin on this cigar and my face goes numb. I could  barely feel my lips. I had no idea you could get so damn high off a cigar. Then I started to turn green. Like froggy green but no where near as cute. I didn't feel so good all of a sudden. I told this story to my friend Dave and he cracked up telling me your not suppose to inhale it, it's for flavor. Where does it say that? As for flavor....Flavor my ass. It's like beer. It taste like crap! Moral of this story.... Certain men look devilishly hot smoking on a cigar......


Here's a few things I wrote many, many years ago. ~ Enjoy ~

To The Ceiling I Write.....
Oh, vast and quiet ceiling
alabaster and spotted
last night, lo and behold your own
intensity held captive my audience
Your turning strawberry essence
your green outlines, they drew me to your theatre
I watched, helpless, as you and I overcame
wave after wave of mindless staring
and cut off views of you
you are just a ceiling
and last night you were the only thing left on earth
Like an undersea earthquake
you shimmered upon the surface of my mind
I do not hold you in contempt
good ceiling, but I do not thank you for the visions you slipped to me.
I know not how many others you have fooled before me,
but how long do you suppose you can exist
posing as nothing more
than a ceiling......
Trip of the Brain

I see your bones through your skin
You sit upon a throne of sin
Your expression is so wildly placid
We're products of lysergic acid
I feel hunted, I feel bare
I feel my brain begin to tear
Hair is bushy like a mane
Whatever happens
I feel no pain
The sky is purple and we are green
You don't want to know what I've seen.
Album covers run away from me.
I chase them on roads of LSD
My hands are peeling
I need to rest
I need the security of the nest
Nothing looks as it really should
We all see faces in the wood
We go playing in the park
many hours after dark
Light hurts my eyes
and I go blind
No one around me seems to mind
Ten hours later my head still hums
and I can't shake the sound of drums
When you've decided not to believe you're tripping
A snake runs out your sleeve
As I close the acid door
I look and see me on the floor

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