1. Tuesday, April 20, 2004

    if i was a better editor for lick magazine 

    i would have thought of this earlier.

    so maybe you at home can play along.

    this will be the first time that i have encouraged anonymous commenting, but as clipper girls cousin told me last night, i need to mellow the fuck out.

    and what a better day to start than today?

    since today is four twenty i’m going to write about the first time i smoked pot and if youre so inclined, youre going to tell your first time, anonymously if you like, in the comments.

    but tell the truth.

    or you can tell a funny story or an interesting fact.

    but before i do that, tonight at the derby outright genius Mark Antonides at 9pm, The C at 10, and the debut record release of Shapes of Race Cars, dylans new band.

    or you can see cypress hill at the henry fonda which is sold out cuz its four twenty.

    the first time i smoked pot was in scott speidens garage in seventh grade. i have very few memories of seventh grade but this one is crystal clear. we were standing in a circle. it was fall. we were listening to ted nugents dog eat dog. i got the joint and i inhaled and passed it around and got it again and inhaled and i didnt get stoned.

    i thought there was something wrong with me or maybe i hadnt done it right, but i walked around and tried to pretend i was stoned for a few minutes but then i went back to the party.

    the first time i got stoned was with a big titted bisexual punk rock girl named myra at her place in westwood. she rode me there on her vespa.

    we watched late night music videos and made out and smoked out of a beer can.

    in those days you could just make out all night smoke out of a can make out and watch videos and everyone was happy.

    then i went to uc santa barbara. ucsb. u can study buzzed.

    before i went there i really thought that if i was at college there i would be able to study more because it was on the beach and away from the city.

    i studied alright. once while camping my hippie friends thought it would be funny if they put some acid on my breakfast graham cracker.

    i woke up and had no sense of time dimension distance or reason.

    i stared at my hand for maybe a half hour.

    late late late that night someone passed around a joint.

    it was so late that it had become early.

    and the sun came up and we passed out listening to pink floyds wish you were here.

    and it wouldnt have been the same without that natural herb.

    mark antonides + shapes of race cars + dylan + monty