The Stoner Chronicles

July 21, 2004

I think maybe if he wasn't like, not actually elected, i might, i don't know, i just don't like him.  Okay?  that's my stance.

July 20, 2004

  • What the fuck is it with baby boomers getting blogs and all of a sudden, they think they're fucking bejesus m. graves, all good doer of the earth's internet source?   Like seriously, i've been working with computers since you were getting herpes at the discoteque! 
  • The only old people blogs I like are the parents of my friends, and I bet it was my friends that probably set up the account for them, and changed the font to be larger so they could read it.  This is not a cliche thing, my mother, much like many old stoners, can not read anything on the internet unless it is at least 24pt.
  • A couple of weeks ago, I was in Birdman's room late at night on the internet.    As I was casually browsing for fun downloads on the Sprint website, I clicked on the muzak version of "A Hard Day's Night",   and seriously scared the living fucking shit out of myself.  It seems as if I actually turned the volume to highest point on his subwoofer stereo system, while attempting to turn it down for his sleeping family members. I may have been the first fatal injury related to a ringtone.  For one sick and crazy second, I thought I was going to fucking die, I probably looked like the dad from Strangers with Candy.
  • This hot girl I know admitted to a room of people that she has farted so loud in her sleep, that she woke herself up, all scared.  Imagine the hot girl you know waking up all crazy scared before realizing she just farted.  Yea, it's a lot funnier now, isn't it.  This like, bewildered cat look, like, fuck, what just happened to me, where's the devil, scared look. 
  • I have to go back to school, don't I?
  • Why do I have to go back to school?  I hate school.  My mother said to me "you never used to hate school when you were younger", and I was thinking to myself, well, I also let you wipe my ass, but things change.  Why is it that everytime I try to explain something to my mother, she has to reference back to when she was still in control?  I guess she's like the former President of Me.
  • I don't really like David Bowie, but I love that spaceship song, like fucking jam and toast.  White people drop that rhyme off like last year's cool t-shirt at the Salvation Army.
  • I can't believe I never noticed this bullet maker thing.

July 15, 2004

Maybe I shouldn't have completely deleted my other template, err...(that is not an angry "err", it is a confused one, which is acceptable, if I ever hear any of my friends use the term "err" to represent frustration, i will break into their apartments and curl up in bed with them for the night, and wait)

I don't know why my site meter isn't working, when they ask you if you want to see a preview, that should be how it's *ACTUALLY GOING TO LOOK*, because all the links worked in the previews and that's why I deleted everything old.

I can't believe I initiated this change. Usually Lynisse would do this shit for me, she'd start getting sick of the colors or something. I've been trying to find other stoner blogs, and apart from my new friend who writes Stoner Diary, I can't seem to find any recently posted shit. Even so, I am going to add a few new features on the side that Flippin Wench might find interesting, seeing that she is one of probably less than 10 people that read this shit still.

Birdman did not take my laundry out of the washer this morning, so I have clean clothes that are not dry. His mother knocked on the door and told me that she put everything in the dryer. I had approximately every pair of panties I own in that load. Shit my pants not funny, friends...

Sometimes, I think about walking naked from Birdman's room to the bathroom a short 5 feet away, but If I had the boozkies to do that, I should probably try walking out of the door clothed before 2 pm first. Yesterday, I ended up leaving here around 4:30, I spent the entire day in his room, I didn't even leave to use the pottie. I am sorry if this post is uneventful. I became frustrated while working on my blog last night, and I found a REALLY old bag of shit, and rolled it up proper, talked to myself for about 2 hours and then wandered downstairs to make myself a sandwich. Needless to say I'm a little airey up there this fine rainy morning.

because I have so many good comments on my old commenter, I will have two separate commenters, and I know this is going to be confusing, but that kind of amuses me...

Well, it is after 4am, and after owning this site for 3 years, I am finally starting to grasp the concept of HTML. I need to sleep, and I apologize for the big ass picture of my head, I am working on a smaller cover pic...

Who's proud of me?

July 14, 2004


This is the mannequin I wrestled (refer to below post). It's a gay mannequin, I KNOW!
posted from the stoner photo gallery

Yesterday Superbowl (who needs no introduction), Big Coco(on one of her first big stoner outings), the New and Improved Flippin Wench(I wish I knew how to make the "trademark" sign on my keyboard), Hancock (with her Chanel earrings and sunglasses and Louis Vuitton purse)Bobcat (who despises the OCB like some Christians tie gay people to the back of their pick up trucks)Angelator (with her now token anti-bush pin), Birdman (still not fresh from working a ten hour day in the mud)and myself (who couldn't be more excited if it was my own celebration) piled into three cars en route to quite possibly the greatest place on earth: OLD COUNTRY BUFFET

Perhaps it's named something else, depending on where you live. Apparently there's a buffet in Syracuse that serves THANKSGIVING TURKEY ALL FUCKING DAY. But, in our (now somewhat dwindling) stoner world, the abbreviation OCB could melt 7/8 of our hearts at sheer mention.

See, only four kinds of people go to buffets, the idea of having vats of half consummated looking variations of bread pudding under glass where you serve yourself for astoundingly low prices comparable to Denny's (another famed stoner hang out spot) could only be appealing to probably roughly about 13 million people in the world. In my experience as a stoner buffet connoisseur, I have located and recognized these groups in public with the following list:

1. Black people arriving after a long day of prayer
2. Really poor white people and their children with dirty t-shirts
3. Stoners
4. OLD PEOPLE

Old people love the fucking buffet more than stoners do, mostly because I think they get a discount, and they lived through the depression. The correlation between unlimited corn and old people is just too high for there not to be a huge geriatric turnout.

Church going black people know a fucking deal when they see one, fucking period.

I'll admit I was once a really poor white kid, and we would go to Homestyle (the precursor in Buffalo to OCB) just about everyday, I even had my communion party there (and I had my communion pictures taken at K-Mart because it was closer to the buffet than Olan Mills). At the time I think they charged .50 cents per year, and depending on the age of the kid, a lower income family could eat together, and as much as they wanted (I know I always add that in there, and it's pretty obvious, but still, I mean, come on, as much as you want for one price? Holy barb!) for under $20.

I encourage any stoner who hasn't been to the buffet to make at least one trip before they die. Usually, there's always a back parking lot to smoke before you go in, I would never recommend driving stoned unless you're a pro, and even then, you're not a pro, and you should really just smoke in the parking lot. Besides, if you smoke at home, you could hit the paranoid part of the stone, and you might end up like I did once, clutching your purse, your phone, your jacket and anything else that your stoner ass might think someone is going to steal from you when you're in that mood. Also, don't go if you're not stoned, unless you fit into the other three categories, it might be a little cree-pay, and you ruin the experience for all the old/black/stoned/poor white people. "Why are they here? They're going to steal my purse!"

Bring some CHRONIC, the more fucked up you are, the better the experience. SMOKE YOURSELF RETARDED. When you walk to the register, and peer over at the seemingly endless line of mashed potatoes and fried chicken, don't die right there, there's also as much COFFEE, POP, AND DESSERT as you can stuff in your pants.

Sit in a booth, if you can fit your friends in there, I tend to feel more comfortable when I'm high in an enclosed area, and the lighting is just right.

Try to sit next to black people. They understand! In my experience as a stoner, I have had only ONE black person look at me funny when I was stoned, and that's because I was beating up a gay mannequin in a crack house (I'm not kidding, ask Wench).

Sensible Joe and I used to go to the OSP just about every chance we got, which I think, might have led to my demise into obeseocrity. But the MSG isn't good for you, and neither are the calories, and as some as the old people at the buffet might tell you, too much of a good thing might ruin it, in the end. Try to keep your buffet experiences at a minimum, we went to commemorate the 23rd year of the Superbowl, who is now....23. What?

We finished up the evening at Superbowl's house, with her mom, dad, dog, and an ice cream cake that no one could eat. I should have bought that bitch some citronella candles because MY ASS IS ON FIRE RIGHT NOW, and I think instead of sending a thank you card she might want to pick me up some after bite.

Actually, I forgot to buy her a birthday present...

July 12, 2004

I might have to delete the last post, the leaf is going to fuck up my links and such as soon as this post is published.

Next, I've been shitting and puking for a couple of days now, and that would be fine and all if I was doing so in the confines of my own apartment. It is not cool to blow up somebody else's toilet like that, just pooping and stinking up the place like you pay for the water bill, and when I stay at Birdman's house, and he's not there, it seems like I always feel like i'm going to shit my pants at around 8am. Maybe it's because i'm neurotic, and the *very* first thing that comes to mind when I stay over at someone else's house is "but what if I have to shit really bad?", and then as soon as it's in my head, it begins. Do they have enough toilet paper? What if I use too much toilet paper? How much is too much toilet paper? Is there a lock on the bathroom door?

So it's around 8am, and I can hear someone rustling outside of the door, and I'm in the bedroom with these stomach cramps, all on the corner of the bed losing my religion and shit, like, literally, and then I hear the bathroom door open, and someone walk down the stairs. So, last time I used the bathroom before noon I saw the entire side panel of birdman's dad while he was changing into his "weekend gear", and it was graphic and I can't think about too much and I didn't really tell anyone because he started to talk to me thinking I was his wife and I ran back into the bedroom and seriously and honestly thought about putting some paper towels in the bottom of the trash can and piddling right there in the middle of the bedroom.

Luckily, no one was naked and I managed to sneak into the bathroom, to find out that this was one of those long anticipated shits, where it feels like change is going to happen eventually, you just don't know whether to wait it out on the toilet or in bed. Especially if it's too early in the morning, and you're half asleep, and you wonder if you might wake up to the sound of your boyfriend's parents jimmying the lock to find you passed out toe up in a pile of diarrea because it was just too damn early to be irregular.

My mommy had to come and get me, because I am a loser, and she brought me some pretzels and Pepto Bismol, because my mom was in charge of my bowel movements at one point in my life, and, in her mind, is not yet relieved of this duty.

There was this kid in the school's spelling bee that spelled duty "dooty", I guess that was funnier when I was twelve.