HA HA HE HE HE HA hehehehehehe hoo hoo A HAHAHAHEHEHEHEHE Ha HA he ….he he …OK …ok ok im good…. He he he. Ok (sigh) that was that was, WOW hoo-boy… how do I explain it…? I'll try….
"What's Salvia? " My eyebrow jumped an inch and I began to sit up straight.
"Its TOTALLY legal. We bought a gram at Northern Hemp-shere for like forty bucks. Dude, we smoked a joint and we were fucked for a whole weekend! " He presented a small vial, no bigger then my pinky , from his pocket . "One hit," his voice oozes with enthusiasm " and you trip fucking balls."
"That sounds too good to be true, what's the catch?" besides the price obviously. My leather jacket moans as I slump back down. Why am I wearing my leather jacket inside ? Duh, it’s a leather jacket.
" So far, there isn't one. But I mean…anything that does THIS can't be good for you ." Yeah, that’s the same conclusion that I deduced.
"IIIII doooonnnnn't knoooowwww , it probably burns a hole in your brain. That shit can't be good for you."
"So you wanna hit?"
"Of course."
He unscrews the lid and reveals the contents. It looks like…like when I rub my hands together after a day of work and all the dirt rolls up into black strands. He takes a mouse's pinch off the very tip the earthy gunk, ever so gently places it in the bowl, and hands me the pipe. "Just take a little hit, don't haul on it."
"Nah, of course, of course." The flame hits the gunk and I commence. One second becomes two, becomes three, becomes four, five, six …If someone says don’t haul on it, what are you gonna do right ? His face starts to bloom, eyes widen, jaw sinks, astonishment ? No, not astonishment, something else… wait a minute… Where did he go ?? The shadows? The shadows ate him……
How did I get here? Im back at Futureshop. Awwww I hate this job…how did I get here?!?! What's in my hand? A peg hook? I gotta stock the rack… Something is different about this place? Where is everyone else? He..he he…hehe ha…heheheheheHAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GOD!!!! It tickles! it tickles…My Jacket is tickling me….oh wait, wait, its just melting. Melting?!?!? In that Case…. HAHAHAHAHAHA HEHEHEHE…(etc.)
The store has become engulfed in flames that burn like feathers on your feet. Chunks from the ceiling tiles are crumbling to the ground. CRASH! CRASH! CRASH Oh, its just the windows exploding, no worries. Shelves collapse, televisions roll their eyes, a package of double, no triple A batteries begin to dance. Everywhere, the glowing orange hue of friendly flames…. Tee hee
"Kyle? Dude?"
"HAHAHAHA HEHEHEHE he he, heh, heh, ha, BWAHAHAHAHAHA, Oh my god! THE ROOF, THE ROOF, THE ROOF IS ON FIRE! WE DON’T NEED NO WATER, LET THE MOTHER FUCKER BURN."
"Dude this is the funniest thing ive ever seen. Hey , Hey Kyle!"
"I SAID, THE ROOF, THE ROOF , THE ROOF IS ON FIRE , WE DON’T NEED NO WATER LET THE MOTHERFUCKER BURN. HA! I say what what, I say groove baby groove. When I say ROOF you say BURN. ROOF…..? I said ROOF….? Huh?" ....Where am I? Oh yeah….. "Wow. That was…wow. How long was I gone?"
"About fifteen seconds. Dude, you are hilarious!"
Later...
The office is cramped with boxes and papers are strewn about the desk. Mike sits down across from me. Our eyes meet. Mike (picture Bart Simpson at thirty years old but without the slingshot) folds his hands together and plunks them onto the desk.
"Kyle. Its just not gonna work out. I have to let somebody go.."
"Wait! Your firing me?"
"Im sorry. You can finish the day or go home right now if you want. You'll get paid for the hours you…"
"Dude! ….That’s hilarious! OH my god! That’ amazing!"
" Excuse me?"
"Oh, uh, never mind. Later chief."
PS> CHECK THIS OUT
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JPfnJVEr8E&feature=PlayList&p=8E0E5045A92C03BD&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=2
IF THE LINK DOESNT WORK< JUST LOOK FOR THE VIDEO TITLED "writing a letter to congress on Salvia" i HOPE YOU ENJOY.
PEACE
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Outside looking in...
The gristle of shoreline sand brushing against the lapping lake…A thunderous croak of withered cabin walls..My eyes peek open, and through a screen window, are greeted with the morning dance of tree branches. I can make out images in their display of criss crossing , bending and bark'ed limbs. As I wake I wonder, what is it about camping?
I hardly remember even pouring the coffee that I carry in my cup. Yellow clams polka dot the bottom of the clearest water I know of. Pebbles line the vast shoreline like beaded necklaces. My foot prints trail behind my sand tickled feet. The beach underlines the thick greens of the bush. Rock formations, with colours so unordinary, decorate the island as jewels would a crown. Boats move in harmony with the clouds across the sky. As I march with joy on my journey my mind wanders to then evening ahead. As usual there will be a fires to honour the heavens. Embers will swirl their way up the smoke. The stars will speckle the sky and give way to shooting streaks of silver. Gooey marshmallows will ooze off roasting sticks. Not even the incessant whine and itching poke of mosquitoes could possibly spoil natures comforts. There's just something about camping.
Real beauty is in natures adornment. Pink and pearl stones that drape the lips of islands The twisted pines the poke up from the land shout tales of wicked winds from momentous storms. I remember an image from my earliest child hood memories of a sun faded green canoe zipping past the window of the cabin. I can remember the sweet homely taste of hot chocolate that day. Is that why I still love a good storm?
I quite often find myself going for these walks. I never tire of navigating the island with only my curiosity. When I reach the northerly cliff and absorb the endless portrait of beauty that blankets the horizon I feel as though I can glimpse a remembrance of Eden. Suddenly, I realise that I sit like an ant perched on top of the world. I no longer see cities and roads scab the skin of the earth. I can hear the heartbeat of the waves, and the breath of the air. The farthest away a person can get outside of their I-pod. A smile surfaces.
I am reminded of a time when my roommates and I recorded ourselves jamming. We had decided to form a band and figured we were getting pretty good. Ryan, our singer, held his finger on the button and with a cue we commenced our Rocking! I remember my playing, I was in the zone. My fingers ran up and down the frets with practiced discipline. I remember my roommate, had this awe stricken look on his face and he looked at me and gave me this nod to keep going. Any way, when we played it back afterwards, it was screeching out static, and the symbols were louder then the singing. It didn’t matter that I played really well if we didn't sound good together. This goes back to my point about camping. Sometime you need to step outside and look back in, and that is why camping is so special.
I hardly remember even pouring the coffee that I carry in my cup. Yellow clams polka dot the bottom of the clearest water I know of. Pebbles line the vast shoreline like beaded necklaces. My foot prints trail behind my sand tickled feet. The beach underlines the thick greens of the bush. Rock formations, with colours so unordinary, decorate the island as jewels would a crown. Boats move in harmony with the clouds across the sky. As I march with joy on my journey my mind wanders to then evening ahead. As usual there will be a fires to honour the heavens. Embers will swirl their way up the smoke. The stars will speckle the sky and give way to shooting streaks of silver. Gooey marshmallows will ooze off roasting sticks. Not even the incessant whine and itching poke of mosquitoes could possibly spoil natures comforts. There's just something about camping.
Real beauty is in natures adornment. Pink and pearl stones that drape the lips of islands The twisted pines the poke up from the land shout tales of wicked winds from momentous storms. I remember an image from my earliest child hood memories of a sun faded green canoe zipping past the window of the cabin. I can remember the sweet homely taste of hot chocolate that day. Is that why I still love a good storm?
I quite often find myself going for these walks. I never tire of navigating the island with only my curiosity. When I reach the northerly cliff and absorb the endless portrait of beauty that blankets the horizon I feel as though I can glimpse a remembrance of Eden. Suddenly, I realise that I sit like an ant perched on top of the world. I no longer see cities and roads scab the skin of the earth. I can hear the heartbeat of the waves, and the breath of the air. The farthest away a person can get outside of their I-pod. A smile surfaces.
I am reminded of a time when my roommates and I recorded ourselves jamming. We had decided to form a band and figured we were getting pretty good. Ryan, our singer, held his finger on the button and with a cue we commenced our Rocking! I remember my playing, I was in the zone. My fingers ran up and down the frets with practiced discipline. I remember my roommate, had this awe stricken look on his face and he looked at me and gave me this nod to keep going. Any way, when we played it back afterwards, it was screeching out static, and the symbols were louder then the singing. It didn’t matter that I played really well if we didn't sound good together. This goes back to my point about camping. Sometime you need to step outside and look back in, and that is why camping is so special.
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