THE ROUNDABOUT
by Xlr8 and Mr.D
F*k!,F*k! no mix for breakfast. Where te hell am i gunna score from
today!. The words that scream through my head as i lift it heavily off my
pillow. Iknow I think to myself, ill goto the pawn shop with my car
stereo, its kinda oldish looking anyways, Ill be set then.
I gradually lift my body so as notto get bblackness from getting up to quick
witout sufficient blood circulation, and search around for something that
could pass for clean attire. Grab the smokes, keys and trudle off to the
kitchen make a coffee, go outside and thaw out with a coffee and a smoke in
the morning sunshine.
Ahhh, thats better. I can talk properly now.
The clag in the lining of my mouth is starting to melt off and i start to feel
like a shower. I feel the urge to celibrate because im going to have money
and cigarettes, Oh wait I suddenly realise to myself Ineed petrol to get
over there. I work out th money sorta quickly and have a guess at how much i
will get for the stereo. About fifty to sixty dollars I guess. Before long
im ready to go, some running around beforehand to make sure that i have
everything. Th whole time I cant stop planning everything in my mind, how im
going to sell the stuff and when im going to have a bong, I cant wait i
think eagerly.
I thread my unregistered vehicle through the back streets and park in the back
entrance to the shop, casually rip the stereo out of my own car as if i do it
everytime i leave it, an stroll into the shop and upto the back desk. The
person in front of me is selling these huge, three hundred watt speakers. He
asks the man how much they are worth, but they are only worth seventy dollars
he says. The man accepts the amount reluctantly, and hurries himself out the
door. Geez this guy looks tougher than i thought.
I walk up wit a serious attitude, drop the goods on the counter in front of
the man and look down at the stereo.
Its an old kenwood, one hundred and fifty watt with very nice bass an its
loyaly served me for years but i really need to upgrade to the untimate power
in sound I lie to him, an turn my gaze up to face him with a serious
expression. How much do you think its worth by now? I was hoping around
one hundred dollars considering it was about three hundred and thirty new.
He looks down at it, takes it, inspects it, tests it, figorously shakes it
then looks up and says Well i can see it was a top of the range unit in
its time but i have to sell it second hand and make a profit for myself so
id be inclined to offer you more around the fifty dollar mark.
Geez mate, its been a great stereo to me, I hate to see it dissappear so
undignified, I suppose i would drop to about seventy dollars.
Aw, i dont know, Ill give you maybe another ten because its in real nice
condition, only dusty.
Ok, i suppose i could accept that.
He takes the item and puts it away, mucks around, goes out of the room a few
times and finally returns with my cash and receipt.
Straight back home i go except via the petrol station for juice and smokes,
all without music. Doesnt matter because ill be smashed for sure soon. Ill
drop off home, make a quick call and shoot off again for another spin in my
shit heap vehicle with no air conditioning on a hot day, to a dirty patch of
suburbia riddled with single mums and lots of young hooligans that litter the
roads with old bombs being done up, cricket games, bikes , syringes, ramps,
skateboards and various instruments of distraction. The dude i know has a shed
outside his house where he spends most of his days watching kids, telly,
computer games, entertaining friends and selling dope. Hes a rough kinda
bloke but hes kind to the children.
I park my not very musical car and wander around the back into the shed,
Keith mate, i havent seen you in two days he says in disbelief.
Ive been sponging off mates for the last twenty four hours I reply, its
been hopeless, its so inconvenient not having a mix that you can smoke down
at whatever rate you like. Anyways Ill take three for a big five dude.
Not a problem mate
He searches around underneath his chair, shuffles around a bit and comes up
with three juicy, round, full bud grams in crisp plastic, snap lock bags.
I hand him a crinkled up fifty dollar note and away i go with a quick See ya
next time dude.
EVERY DAMN SET OF LIGHTS IS RED ON THIS PLANET!, Why is it Im always going
against the flow?!
An hour later at home and Im madly ripping my seat belt off and racing inside
to grab all the neccesary equipment for the job. The scissors are in the pen
jar, the bowl is hidden in the speaker box that looks like it works and so is
the pipe, the cigarettes are in my pocket and out comes the weed. The resin is
sticky and makes it so hard to chop it up safely without loosing half of it,
but with tobacco in it, it fluffes up nicely so i have a huge gram mix with a
few war heads to add a punch.
At this point its amazing how calm i begin to feel and that always seems to
happen. The plan to get it, the rush to get it, the hurry to return with it
and then ...BANG!, I can sit there for sometimes half and hour just holding a
packed bong, completely satified. I see all my friends doing the same thing
all the time and it amazes me everytime. Some of the biggest smokers i know
do it but trust me, it doesnt take long before i realize and theres no
stopping me. As sad as it sounds, what im about to have i need so i can
operate properly. I lift te pipe to my mouth knowing exactly what i will be
getting and without further waiting i light the lighter and smoke the cone
ive packed. Wow, that did it. I hesitate to blow the smoke out, trying to
get as much out of it as possible but uncontrolably break out into a coughing
fit that seems like it will last for ever. The air fills with the aroma of the
bong quickly so i open a window on the way to the fridge. Bringing on the
dries is the first side-affect of smoking marijuana. A few more of these and
ill be set.
A few more later and ive lost count and i keep thinking ive only had three,
so i end up having most of the mix in five cones but really about fifteen
and mix up the rest. In this time it feels like hardly any time has passed
engrossed in a video game but as it does go by i become more and more
content with how I feel.
A few more cones from the second mix and Im starting to take in everything
around me. Being apart from that mad rush of being straight is only
obtainable through my customized self-councilling mehtods, It has nothing to
do with my game playing, Im just lazy. But if i wasnt a lazy person then i
would be a completely successful person minus the time it takes to score and
smoke.
But unfortunatly every drug addict will tell you the same thing, its nothin
new, so piss off i want to be alone now!
by Xlr8 and Mr.D
F*k!,F*k! no mix for breakfast. Where te hell am i gunna score from
today!. The words that scream through my head as i lift it heavily off my
pillow. Iknow I think to myself, ill goto the pawn shop with my car
stereo, its kinda oldish looking anyways, Ill be set then.
I gradually lift my body so as notto get bblackness from getting up to quick
witout sufficient blood circulation, and search around for something that
could pass for clean attire. Grab the smokes, keys and trudle off to the
kitchen make a coffee, go outside and thaw out with a coffee and a smoke in
the morning sunshine.
Ahhh, thats better. I can talk properly now.
The clag in the lining of my mouth is starting to melt off and i start to feel
like a shower. I feel the urge to celibrate because im going to have money
and cigarettes, Oh wait I suddenly realise to myself Ineed petrol to get
over there. I work out th money sorta quickly and have a guess at how much i
will get for the stereo. About fifty to sixty dollars I guess. Before long
im ready to go, some running around beforehand to make sure that i have
everything. Th whole time I cant stop planning everything in my mind, how im
going to sell the stuff and when im going to have a bong, I cant wait i
think eagerly.
I thread my unregistered vehicle through the back streets and park in the back
entrance to the shop, casually rip the stereo out of my own car as if i do it
everytime i leave it, an stroll into the shop and upto the back desk. The
person in front of me is selling these huge, three hundred watt speakers. He
asks the man how much they are worth, but they are only worth seventy dollars
he says. The man accepts the amount reluctantly, and hurries himself out the
door. Geez this guy looks tougher than i thought.
I walk up wit a serious attitude, drop the goods on the counter in front of
the man and look down at the stereo.
Its an old kenwood, one hundred and fifty watt with very nice bass an its
loyaly served me for years but i really need to upgrade to the untimate power
in sound I lie to him, an turn my gaze up to face him with a serious
expression. How much do you think its worth by now? I was hoping around
one hundred dollars considering it was about three hundred and thirty new.
He looks down at it, takes it, inspects it, tests it, figorously shakes it
then looks up and says Well i can see it was a top of the range unit in
its time but i have to sell it second hand and make a profit for myself so
id be inclined to offer you more around the fifty dollar mark.
Geez mate, its been a great stereo to me, I hate to see it dissappear so
undignified, I suppose i would drop to about seventy dollars.
Aw, i dont know, Ill give you maybe another ten because its in real nice
condition, only dusty.
Ok, i suppose i could accept that.
He takes the item and puts it away, mucks around, goes out of the room a few
times and finally returns with my cash and receipt.
Straight back home i go except via the petrol station for juice and smokes,
all without music. Doesnt matter because ill be smashed for sure soon. Ill
drop off home, make a quick call and shoot off again for another spin in my
shit heap vehicle with no air conditioning on a hot day, to a dirty patch of
suburbia riddled with single mums and lots of young hooligans that litter the
roads with old bombs being done up, cricket games, bikes , syringes, ramps,
skateboards and various instruments of distraction. The dude i know has a shed
outside his house where he spends most of his days watching kids, telly,
computer games, entertaining friends and selling dope. Hes a rough kinda
bloke but hes kind to the children.
I park my not very musical car and wander around the back into the shed,
Keith mate, i havent seen you in two days he says in disbelief.
Ive been sponging off mates for the last twenty four hours I reply, its
been hopeless, its so inconvenient not having a mix that you can smoke down
at whatever rate you like. Anyways Ill take three for a big five dude.
Not a problem mate
He searches around underneath his chair, shuffles around a bit and comes up
with three juicy, round, full bud grams in crisp plastic, snap lock bags.
I hand him a crinkled up fifty dollar note and away i go with a quick See ya
next time dude.
EVERY DAMN SET OF LIGHTS IS RED ON THIS PLANET!, Why is it Im always going
against the flow?!
An hour later at home and Im madly ripping my seat belt off and racing inside
to grab all the neccesary equipment for the job. The scissors are in the pen
jar, the bowl is hidden in the speaker box that looks like it works and so is
the pipe, the cigarettes are in my pocket and out comes the weed. The resin is
sticky and makes it so hard to chop it up safely without loosing half of it,
but with tobacco in it, it fluffes up nicely so i have a huge gram mix with a
few war heads to add a punch.
At this point its amazing how calm i begin to feel and that always seems to
happen. The plan to get it, the rush to get it, the hurry to return with it
and then ...BANG!, I can sit there for sometimes half and hour just holding a
packed bong, completely satified. I see all my friends doing the same thing
all the time and it amazes me everytime. Some of the biggest smokers i know
do it but trust me, it doesnt take long before i realize and theres no
stopping me. As sad as it sounds, what im about to have i need so i can
operate properly. I lift te pipe to my mouth knowing exactly what i will be
getting and without further waiting i light the lighter and smoke the cone
ive packed. Wow, that did it. I hesitate to blow the smoke out, trying to
get as much out of it as possible but uncontrolably break out into a coughing
fit that seems like it will last for ever. The air fills with the aroma of the
bong quickly so i open a window on the way to the fridge. Bringing on the
dries is the first side-affect of smoking marijuana. A few more of these and
ill be set.
A few more later and ive lost count and i keep thinking ive only had three,
so i end up having most of the mix in five cones but really about fifteen
and mix up the rest. In this time it feels like hardly any time has passed
engrossed in a video game but as it does go by i become more and more
content with how I feel.
A few more cones from the second mix and Im starting to take in everything
around me. Being apart from that mad rush of being straight is only
obtainable through my customized self-councilling mehtods, It has nothing to
do with my game playing, Im just lazy. But if i wasnt a lazy person then i
would be a completely successful person minus the time it takes to score and
smoke.
But unfortunatly every drug addict will tell you the same thing, its nothin
new, so piss off i want to be alone now!
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