Now we have people smoking super potent "shatter" with blow torches :wtf .
Once a year I take my wife and kids back to the hell that I grew up in to visit my remaining relatives and always set aside time to see old friends and their families.
We all met up and went out for a large group dinner at a nice little downtown restaurant. (Judge Roy Moore was even there!) Everyone drank and was merry. Afterwards, as is usual, a group of us guys from high school went out and had a few more cocktails while our wives and girlfriends retreated back to homes and hotel rooms for some normalcy and quiet.
The night ended with a few of us back at one friend's home, and during a lull in the conversation, he declared he had something special to share with us. He pulled out something that resembled a bong with a broken spark-plug or water hose attachment where the bowl should be. He then produces what looked like the inside of a Skör candy bar and a blow torch. This was the kind of blow torch I'd use for heating up old stripped out bolts in my garage to assist with removal, totally industrial, nothing fancy. Definitely not something that belonged in a nicely decorated, comfortable home. I was... intrigued?
The next thing I know, he has the protruding metal portion of the bong glowing red hot and is slowly rubbing the innards of the candy bar around the rim. Very slowly, so that the material is dissolving down into the metal, like a witch at a boiling cauldron. He motions for me to take a rip and just before I drunkenly do, he cautions, "Don't inhale really deep, it will expand in your lungs and make you cough like shit." Uh, okey dokey?! I inhale and exhale as normally as I can. The coughing fit hits and I try my best to expel my lungs onto my chest.
Almost immediately, somebody switches the channel. The UHF television set that now occupies the space where my head was, is beginning to lose reception. The black, frizzled snow seeps up from the ground. At first, cutting off my lower peripheral vision and everyone's legs. At this I am joyous! I revel in the new sensation that is probably just oxygen starvation. I laugh and move and lunge excitedly as the blackness creeps up. I raise my arms above my head. My giddiness is soon quieted as I settle on a two disconjugate horizons and reach for the arm of the nearest couch. I only recall muttering something about making sure I get back to my wife and kids, all of whose names I now cannot remember...
I've done a lot of drugs and wasted my fair share of time on this planet, but I definitely never want to experience 'shatter' again. That shit is just fucking garbage.
