funny stories of me being stupid with weed
- Thread starter dreaming neon darkspot
- Start date
NinjaKitten
YOINK!
we pay 5 bucks a gram here...
Anyway, cute story, I remember many similar childhood incedents, only my mom was in denial so she never wanted to catch me, therefore I didnt have much to worry about.
Anyway, cute story, I remember many similar childhood incedents, only my mom was in denial so she never wanted to catch me, therefore I didnt have much to worry about.
Canada dosent count, its 40x better.
Im glad my parents accepted it with me and didnt see it as some sort of evil, morally corrupting plant.
Im glad my parents accepted it with me and didnt see it as some sort of evil, morally corrupting plant.
Dead_Lioness
Godless
I have so many stories like that...
basically if you smoke weed, expect to have weird things happen...
lol.
basically if you smoke weed, expect to have weird things happen...
lol.
Det Som Engang Var
Viking Bastard
En Vind Av Sorg said:
Same here. I guess the fact that my parents were heavy drug users had something to do with it.
Shpongled
Member
- Aug 30, 2001
- 13,483
- 88
- 48
Here's my best weed story. It's long, but good and funny!
About 3 years ago, I was working as a framer. Basically that means I built houses. I took 3 years of Cabinetmaking in high school, and this job was like a super advanced version of that class. I loved it! I made friends with the crew pretty quickly, but the owner of the company was one of those people you instantly know you won't get along with as soon as you meet them. He didn't hire me, and I didn't meet him until probably 2 weeks after I started the job. We built HUGE awesome houses in Bellevue, which is a lot more upper class than the rest of the area.
Anyways, the other dudes on the crew were avid potheads and one of them actually grew his own plant in his closet in his apartment. One friday he asked me if I wanted to go to his place during lunch and smoke out, since he'd just harvested his plant and cured it and it was ready to go. So I go with him, and he says it's knife hit time. Knife hits = big time stoneage! I took ONE HIT and choked and coughed really hard for about 20 minutes. I was so high it was ridiculous. As soon as I took that hit, time practically came to a stand still. After we smoked we ate the Burger King we picked up on the way there (holy shit it was soooo goood!!!) and then took off. As we were leaving, I kept thinking to myself "We're gonna be late getting back and then we're screwed."
So on the way back to the site, I'm looking out the passenger window of the car (glad I wasn't driving) and then I turn my head to look out the front window. It felt like slow motion and I saw tracers and everything. I was fucking BAKED. Off ONE knife hit!!! I started to get paranoid, which is a tell tale sign that I'm too fucked up. I only get paranoid when I'm really high. I start thinking we're gonna be late and our lead is gonna know were smoking pot. I just about had myself convinced I was going to be fired as soon as our lead saw me.
We finally got back to the site, and much to my stoned suprise, we were actually 5 minutes early. Time really slows down for me on the weed. The lead (Dave) comes up to us and starts shootin the shit. Normal stuff, no big deal. So it's time to go back to work and I'm feeling extremely fortunate that my current task only involves being on a 6 foot ladder on a paved garage, but that luck is about to change.
Dave tells me start nailing down the outer walls on the tallest section of the house. "Start at the top and work your way down" he says. Yay. Now I get to climb up a 32-foot extension ladder on uneven dirt with a 30 pound nailgun and 15 pound tool belt hanging from my waist. And I'm still completely ripped. It was so scary, but I got it done in like 20 minutes (he only wanted a small section done). After that it was just grunt work. Carrying plywood up the stairs, installing birdblocks, etc.
This is where it gets funny. Dave called me over and I got really scared. The whole time I'd been thinking "He knows I'm high, I'm dead." So he asks me to go get him a certain type of nail from our supply container. Inside our supply container is all kinds of nails, tools, etc. It's basically the size of a very small semi truck trailer. Also inside the container is the air-tank for all of our air-powered nailguns and tools. Well that stupud air tank has to reset itself for whatever reason like 2 times a day.
So I'm in the container, trying to find these nails for Dave, thinking the whole time that he's onto me, I'm super paranoid and then all of a sudden "BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!!!!!!!!!!!" I feel my heart go up my throat as I jump about 4 feet in the air. The air-tank just reset itself RIGHT BEHIND ME. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. That bang scared me so bad. I'm lucky no one else saw it, because they probably would have been on the ground in tears from laughter haha.
Anyways, I found the nails and took them to Dave, he never suspected me of anything and I finally started coming down about 20 minutes AFTER work haha. That was the last time I've ever gotten stoned at work.
After we finished that house we were working on, we started to work on the owner of the company's house (the guy who I didn't really get along with). I didn't last long after that. He was too much of a prick and he'd really lash into me if I'd made even the smallest mistake. After about a week of working on his house, I asked him if I could take Monday off next week. He was cool with it. I wanted that day off, because the Sunday before it my band played a show with Nevermore. I wanted Monday to relax. That Monday, the owner called me and told me he could only justify having me back if I took a dollar an hour pay-cut. In as nice of a way as possible, I told him to eat his own shit and I never went back to work for him.
I really miss the job, but I definitely don't miss that guy. At least I learned a valuable lesson, which I will now pass along to you all....
Don't take knife hits on your lunch hour!
About 3 years ago, I was working as a framer. Basically that means I built houses. I took 3 years of Cabinetmaking in high school, and this job was like a super advanced version of that class. I loved it! I made friends with the crew pretty quickly, but the owner of the company was one of those people you instantly know you won't get along with as soon as you meet them. He didn't hire me, and I didn't meet him until probably 2 weeks after I started the job. We built HUGE awesome houses in Bellevue, which is a lot more upper class than the rest of the area.
Anyways, the other dudes on the crew were avid potheads and one of them actually grew his own plant in his closet in his apartment. One friday he asked me if I wanted to go to his place during lunch and smoke out, since he'd just harvested his plant and cured it and it was ready to go. So I go with him, and he says it's knife hit time. Knife hits = big time stoneage! I took ONE HIT and choked and coughed really hard for about 20 minutes. I was so high it was ridiculous. As soon as I took that hit, time practically came to a stand still. After we smoked we ate the Burger King we picked up on the way there (holy shit it was soooo goood!!!) and then took off. As we were leaving, I kept thinking to myself "We're gonna be late getting back and then we're screwed."
So on the way back to the site, I'm looking out the passenger window of the car (glad I wasn't driving) and then I turn my head to look out the front window. It felt like slow motion and I saw tracers and everything. I was fucking BAKED. Off ONE knife hit!!! I started to get paranoid, which is a tell tale sign that I'm too fucked up. I only get paranoid when I'm really high. I start thinking we're gonna be late and our lead is gonna know were smoking pot. I just about had myself convinced I was going to be fired as soon as our lead saw me.
We finally got back to the site, and much to my stoned suprise, we were actually 5 minutes early. Time really slows down for me on the weed. The lead (Dave) comes up to us and starts shootin the shit. Normal stuff, no big deal. So it's time to go back to work and I'm feeling extremely fortunate that my current task only involves being on a 6 foot ladder on a paved garage, but that luck is about to change.
Dave tells me start nailing down the outer walls on the tallest section of the house. "Start at the top and work your way down" he says. Yay. Now I get to climb up a 32-foot extension ladder on uneven dirt with a 30 pound nailgun and 15 pound tool belt hanging from my waist. And I'm still completely ripped. It was so scary, but I got it done in like 20 minutes (he only wanted a small section done). After that it was just grunt work. Carrying plywood up the stairs, installing birdblocks, etc.
This is where it gets funny. Dave called me over and I got really scared. The whole time I'd been thinking "He knows I'm high, I'm dead." So he asks me to go get him a certain type of nail from our supply container. Inside our supply container is all kinds of nails, tools, etc. It's basically the size of a very small semi truck trailer. Also inside the container is the air-tank for all of our air-powered nailguns and tools. Well that stupud air tank has to reset itself for whatever reason like 2 times a day.
So I'm in the container, trying to find these nails for Dave, thinking the whole time that he's onto me, I'm super paranoid and then all of a sudden "BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!!!!!!!!!!!" I feel my heart go up my throat as I jump about 4 feet in the air. The air-tank just reset itself RIGHT BEHIND ME. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. That bang scared me so bad. I'm lucky no one else saw it, because they probably would have been on the ground in tears from laughter haha.
Anyways, I found the nails and took them to Dave, he never suspected me of anything and I finally started coming down about 20 minutes AFTER work haha. That was the last time I've ever gotten stoned at work.
After we finished that house we were working on, we started to work on the owner of the company's house (the guy who I didn't really get along with). I didn't last long after that. He was too much of a prick and he'd really lash into me if I'd made even the smallest mistake. After about a week of working on his house, I asked him if I could take Monday off next week. He was cool with it. I wanted that day off, because the Sunday before it my band played a show with Nevermore. I wanted Monday to relax. That Monday, the owner called me and told me he could only justify having me back if I took a dollar an hour pay-cut. In as nice of a way as possible, I told him to eat his own shit and I never went back to work for him.
I really miss the job, but I definitely don't miss that guy. At least I learned a valuable lesson, which I will now pass along to you all....
Don't take knife hits on your lunch hour!
Det Som Engang Var
Viking Bastard
neal
wizard in black
neal
wizard in black
i dunno about my best weed story, but i did smoke a joint on the roof of a police station once. that was pretty fun/scary.
derek
Grey Eminence
derek
Grey Eminence
derek
Grey Eminence
neal
wizard in black
well that kinda is the sorty......ok i knew a dude that lived above a store next to the police station, so one night we rolled a j and jumped his little balcony thing and crept onto the roof of the police station. then we smoked the j. then a cop drove by and we got paranoid and went back inside and smoked more vaporizer bowls.dreaming neon darkspot said:
neal
wizard in black
EricT
Don't you ever get...
I have an interesting related story to share -
A few years back when I was still in my first expermintive stages with drugs, me and a few friends decided to get completely and utterly wasted in "tyler's" (as we'll call him for the story) basement of his parents house (devoted mormons). So we set up the night, planned it all out accordingly. We get there, watch a movie, then his parents go to sleep. Thats when we go down to the basement (which was totally unfinished) and start lighting up. So I take a hit, my friend takes a hit, and Tyler takes a hit. Tyler starts choking. This was some weak utah shit, orangey tasted, and he was choking. I nearly died of laughter. So a after a while, all the weeds used up and I have a nice buzzing high going on, I was semi-pleased. But I needed more. So I decide i'm going to go down the street to a guys place I know who sells, shitty schwag, but it was cheap. On my way (I was cutting through peoples backyards, jumping fences, etc. Seemed like a good Idea at the time) I run into this one 3 story house. I stare at it for a while, and then i look behind me. An outdoor bar. Jackpot. I look through it, all kinds of sweet sweet alcoholic pleasures. Stoli, JD, all of my friends
So I bring a few bottles of these back, instead of wasting the money for the shitty schwag.
Go into the basement, pull out ma boys, and start partaking. I give them everything but the stoli to do which what they wanted. The stoli was mine.
So i'd say about an hour of this goes down, getting increasingly drunker, and drunker, and drunker, until all of sudden, without a word, tyler goes upstairs.
The only thing on my mind was "WTF?"
So we sit downstairs, waiting for tyler to come back downstairs, 30 minutes pass, and nothing. At this point I was freaking, and I go upstairs silently, and I hear voices from the living room. "WTF?". SO i go into the living room and there he is, crying with his parents sitting there. Needless to say, I started laughing. "OMG, hahahaha etc." Him and his parents stare at me, or maybe my bottle of stoli.
They ensue conversation with me. Asking me how I was and the such. And I answer them with ease, atleast I thought. So then they ask me to go downstairs for a little while.
Wake up in the morning on a swimming pool raft, half way down the stairs. Covered in puke and water and a broken empty bottle of stoli.
I had no clue what happened, so I walk upstairs, headache and all. I see his parents sitting there, and I ask them what the hell happened. apparently it went down like this:
On my trip down the stairs, I fell down almost all of them, summersaulting into a closet door at the bottom. After recovering I found the pool raft thingy in the closet, and thought it to be a good idea to start rafting down the stairs. So I inflated it, finished off my fifth of vodka, and begin to start going down the stairs in a floaty raft thingy. Then from what I understand, the other person, who was in the basement still, was getting a wee bit annoyed by the amount of noise I had created. He started throwing golf balls at me, missing with all but one, which hit me in the stomach. The puking ensued. All over the stairs, and a little bit on the cement in the basement (when they told me of this part I was gagging on the puke smell in my own clothing). So after that, they kept asking me for a phone number so they could call someone to take me home and I kept telling them that "the debutant won't allow it", who was this debutant? I dunno. But apparently thats all I could speak of. So at this point I go out back, and I grab a hose, and I bring it inside, and I start spraying down the stairs with water... They say I passed out shortly after.
Best part of all of this? All they did was ask me to leave and said they'd clean it up...
Morale of the story, if you get completely wasted and fuck up a mormons house, they won't give a shit.
A few years back when I was still in my first expermintive stages with drugs, me and a few friends decided to get completely and utterly wasted in "tyler's" (as we'll call him for the story) basement of his parents house (devoted mormons). So we set up the night, planned it all out accordingly. We get there, watch a movie, then his parents go to sleep. Thats when we go down to the basement (which was totally unfinished) and start lighting up. So I take a hit, my friend takes a hit, and Tyler takes a hit. Tyler starts choking. This was some weak utah shit, orangey tasted, and he was choking. I nearly died of laughter. So a after a while, all the weeds used up and I have a nice buzzing high going on, I was semi-pleased. But I needed more. So I decide i'm going to go down the street to a guys place I know who sells, shitty schwag, but it was cheap. On my way (I was cutting through peoples backyards, jumping fences, etc. Seemed like a good Idea at the time) I run into this one 3 story house. I stare at it for a while, and then i look behind me. An outdoor bar. Jackpot. I look through it, all kinds of sweet sweet alcoholic pleasures. Stoli, JD, all of my friends
So I bring a few bottles of these back, instead of wasting the money for the shitty schwag.
Go into the basement, pull out ma boys, and start partaking. I give them everything but the stoli to do which what they wanted. The stoli was mine.
So i'd say about an hour of this goes down, getting increasingly drunker, and drunker, and drunker, until all of sudden, without a word, tyler goes upstairs.
The only thing on my mind was "WTF?"
So we sit downstairs, waiting for tyler to come back downstairs, 30 minutes pass, and nothing. At this point I was freaking, and I go upstairs silently, and I hear voices from the living room. "WTF?". SO i go into the living room and there he is, crying with his parents sitting there. Needless to say, I started laughing. "OMG, hahahaha etc." Him and his parents stare at me, or maybe my bottle of stoli.
They ensue conversation with me. Asking me how I was and the such. And I answer them with ease, atleast I thought. So then they ask me to go downstairs for a little while.
Wake up in the morning on a swimming pool raft, half way down the stairs. Covered in puke and water and a broken empty bottle of stoli.
I had no clue what happened, so I walk upstairs, headache and all. I see his parents sitting there, and I ask them what the hell happened. apparently it went down like this:
On my trip down the stairs, I fell down almost all of them, summersaulting into a closet door at the bottom. After recovering I found the pool raft thingy in the closet, and thought it to be a good idea to start rafting down the stairs. So I inflated it, finished off my fifth of vodka, and begin to start going down the stairs in a floaty raft thingy. Then from what I understand, the other person, who was in the basement still, was getting a wee bit annoyed by the amount of noise I had created. He started throwing golf balls at me, missing with all but one, which hit me in the stomach. The puking ensued. All over the stairs, and a little bit on the cement in the basement (when they told me of this part I was gagging on the puke smell in my own clothing). So after that, they kept asking me for a phone number so they could call someone to take me home and I kept telling them that "the debutant won't allow it", who was this debutant? I dunno. But apparently thats all I could speak of. So at this point I go out back, and I grab a hose, and I bring it inside, and I start spraying down the stairs with water... They say I passed out shortly after.
Best part of all of this? All they did was ask me to leave and said they'd clean it up...
Morale of the story, if you get completely wasted and fuck up a mormons house, they won't give a shit.
