So, was in Tel-Aviv yesterday. This was a really shitty day/night. At first it was cool with some bears and people, blow some bowls, eat some apple-pie while stoned. It was about time to go to a party, and some chick I’ve just met, brought some weird shit to smoke, got me shit-faced for about two hours. When this junk finally wore-off, I had to find out that every-one else just disappeared, leaving me to my fate a good amount of hours before my first bus home. That was shitty.
And so I went to the only place I can go when the world fucks me up, my favorite old bar on Abarbanel St. There, I met a nice dude, escorted by two Austrian community working, tourist, Jew stoners. They told me that the party was shitty for them as well, and went over to the bar out of disappointment. When they heard I have that much time to my bus home, they have invited me over, mounted me on a bike, and we got to their place. On the way to the place, they told me about the great bong they have over their place.
While I blew the bowl, the tourist was trying to explain to me how the bong works. I figured it out myself before he finished, dropped-the-choke, and I was there. They told me I’m the first guy they’ve met to blow this bong from the first time and not cough. I was proud.
At least there was a one thing to take pride in about what happened yesterday.
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