Oooh you're a naughty mess

well having left the i-cafe last night something clicked and i went on auto pilot to the spot, whereat met a couple who said i could come to theirs and smoke/ 'twas a longish way but always so pleasant to smoke in comfortable surroundings/ anyway we smoked through the w and 'kingston' passed around some weed and we drank a bottle of port i'd acquired on the way/ when i'd done my last pipe i left and as soon as i hit the cold night air realised i was overwhelmingly fucked/ now situations such as these always terrify me because i am 99.9% of the time totally unable to get even close to finally fucked/ now my intake in terms of quantity had been far from excessive, but i'd been mixing it up something righteous: mixing k, beer and methadone in a glass; as usual trebling my anti-depressant intake; smoking two huge dollops of h in less than 10 minutes; whole stones on the gauze/ but i think what did it more than anything else was the variouys and thus volatile mixture of alcohol combined with weed/ this may sound absurd, but only because weed has a erroneously innocuous image/ i feel far more compus after a fat smoke of each and a large drink that i do after two spliffs of skunk and a couple of pints/ this was even (or especially the case) when i was smoking 1/4 oz. skunk a day/ a friend of mine whom has recently come into the fold expressed a similar sentiment the other day, to wit that he sees god's own medicine and w as far less objectable than weed/ now this statement, like any other, is also objectionable, but you get the point...