1 JOINT = 3 HOUR PANIC ATTACK

I was at Armstrong State Park with my friends. It was beautiful. When we got to the end of the trail we decided to smoke a joint because I wanted to do anything my friends did I smoked it also. I had smoked every day through my 20s but like15 years ago it started making me too paranoid. So I was thinking I'm in a state park surrounded by nature, I'll be fine. The first thing that scared me was after the joint we had a cigarette and people came in our area I thought they'd get mad at us for smoking. Then when we left my friends were pushing my wheelchair and I got scared that we would hit a pothole and I would go flying. Then I got scared that because we had no maps we would get lost in the woods. Then I got scared that the sun was going down and we would be lost and hungry and die of hyperthermia. After an hour or less of this terror I finally saw the car and we were heading towards it. I I then got scared that we would somehow lose the car even though we were looking right at it. That's when I realized I was being totally irrational. We got in the car and my friends played Live Neil Young and I got freaked out. I remember thinking, 'How can I hear live Neil and get freaked out, how is that even possible?' Then I got nervous that my friend had forgotten to put on his headlights. Then I thought about being totally irrational and realized I was just gonna have to accept being in a state of panic til it passed. After awhile, like literally hours we went to an awesome diner that had a bar in it in Guerneville. This was awesome and my paranoid marijuana freakout ended. We went to fucking Uli Roth that night, he's an ancient guitar player from The Scorpions. He opened with Sails Of Charon.

DOGS

 There is a Porky Pig cartoon with a dog who shouts a poem about the city called, "Da City" here's the part from that cartoon:   Da City

In second or third grade they were teaching us about poetry and they assigned us to write our own. I could not do this at all. On a piece of orange construction paper I transcribed Charlie the Dog yelling "Da City"- -the whole thing. The next day my teacher thought I had written it, I didn't say anything. She fucking hung on the wall in the hall to show everyone, with my name on it. People must have thought I was like E.E. Cummings. 

I was at my second cousins house way after this but I was still a kid. My cousins were in their 20s and it was the 70s. They literally had Charades parties and served fondue they wore fucking velour. Talk about cool pretty sure they were smoking jazz cigarettes. There was a guy visiting once and his girlfriend had tried to kill herself. She was in the hospital. We were all in the living room hearing about this. While she was in the hospital she tried to kill herself again. Barry, her boyfriend, said "She ate a Poinsetia" 

I said "Oh the poor dog." I totally thought Poinsetia was like an Irish Setter.