back in the good old days, or in other words when a cone was enough to send you into orbit. my brother and i had just picked up from some old hippie in the back of a kombi down at the beach(we were living in byron bay at the time) and it was the best stuff i have ever had. i know our tolerance was pretty low at the time but this was unbelievable it was caked in so many crystals it sparkled. my bother decided for some reason or other that this would be a good time to try a bucket. one bucket each later and a 20 min coughing marathon. our brains were toasted. our eyes barely open as we both stared and nothing with rediculously big grins plastered across our faces all the while giggling. we tried to speak but found that hilarious and when we did manage to speak we got stuck in ruts. for what seemed an eternity my brother sat there saying lamarkin(what this is i have know idea) and all i could manage was toast. most of the night is a blur but i can remember walking was really difficult so at one stage i sort of draged myself along the floor to get to the toilet.i wrote a poem later on when i was able to hold a pen: heads like jellow
minds all mellow
jolly fellows
mum will bellow
i was a little preocupied with the fact that my mum would get enoyed at the mess we had made from our constant fridge raids. good times. BACK TO LEGENDS OF THE HERB