Oh boy. Last night was fun. Yes my friends, I finally bought a dime bag and enjoyed a nice puff of the weed.
Cannabis, pot, weed, joint, whatever – it’s all good stuff. I didn’t know what I was missing.
It felt great. I had no freaking clue what was going on. The walls whizzed by in a swirl of cream colors. Time slowed down and I learned to fly. It was good times.
And then, I made my one big mistake of the night. Someone said, “Let’s go play DDR!” and I was like “Can I fly there?”
So off I went, flapping my wings, running my head into walls and making sure to take a puff every once in a while.
Incidentally, it’s usually when I’m higher than a kite that I come up with my best column ideas. I think I’ll write about how much I hate everyone who is not like me. I could call it “Be like He.” Or, maybe I could write about the French army attacking penguins.
Back to the good stuff.
Heeheehee, it was really funny. I stepped on my foot and it didn’t hurt! And then I did it again! And it still didn’t hurt. Finally, I heard two yelps of pain and a fist coming towards my face. And then, I could feel my foot in pain.
I was relieved. My foot was intact so I couldn’t have been too high. On an unrelated note, I woke up this morning with two black eyes, and I have no idea how I got those.
Anyhow, back to my adventures with DDR.
DDR is as we all know, stands for Dance Dance Regurgitate. Well, at least that’s what it did for me.
Those flashing lights, that loud noise and that annoying “You are so cool” voice were just all together not good stuff. It was actually some bad stuff. It was so bad, and so confusing, I decided that I didn’t want anyone to be subjected to this horrible machine.
I proceeded to do this by calling upon by laser vision. But for some reason, they weren’t working that night. And then I tried to do a Mario Super Jump. Of course that wasn’t either. So I was left with only one possible recourse, regurgitation.
It worked well! O yeah!! Haaahahaa. It cleared out the place fast, which give me time to get in a few more whacks with my now found feet. It was good. I put in a good four dents into that bastard machine.
Then I felt hungry and went in search of food. I walked an entire mile before I found some real food off campus. You ask why I didn’t get food in Danforth?
Look, I may have been high, but I’m not stupid. I don’t want to put anything in my body that could hurt me.
He can be reached at gettinhigh@rochester.edu.
