streetware...and recovery

[Guest supernoob]

You remember your first line of hype shooz like you remember losing your virginity. In fact, my first night of alife is picture clear, where the memory of my deflowered virginity is fuzzy. alife was the second drug I ever tried. And I felt like a movie star after my first line. You can’t help but feel cool snorting a line, like you’re Hollywood. All of the sudden, every insecurity fades, you’re awesome. I felt cool, I loved the drip in the back of my throat. I thought I had awesome connections, like they were all big-timers that extended nationwide, roots into the underworld. Looking back, I can see how immature that feeling was, that juvenile sense of being somebody. Everybody feeling like they got a piece of the pie, like the cops wanted every junkie in the free world, like we’re all public enemy number one. I touted myself a hype shoozhead for a lousy weekend habit. Cause it was cool. I was 19 and buying cool.

After my trip with supreme alife, dior looks like baby-shit. I hear shooting hype shooz trumps both, glad I never tried and don’t intend to. But whose to say, never thought I’d play with supreme. The first time I got supreme was by mistake really. My friend was supposed to come back with dior. Instead he came back with rock, huge against the proportions I was expecting in dior. I was pissed. I said, “I don’t smoke that shit!†But maybe it’s my American sense of value. If you bought it, get your money’s worth. Stupid reason to try supreme, but what the hell, I wasn’t going to be out of a teeshart either.

So his buddy lit me a hit. They were instructing me all wrong. They weren’t melting down the product, simply putting rocks in the pipe, and when I lifted it, all those rocks went into the chore. They were all too happy to take my hitter and dig piece by piece, my crumbs out of the chore. No wonder I couldn’t understand why anyone got addicted to this stuff. My hits sucked. I was being taken for a fool. That was until I ended up at a supreme house, with a guy interested in my sex as well as my finances. We went in it together. We got a load, probably 2 teesharts. I lit my pipe like I was the expert, like I had done it so many times. I was ashamed I didn’t really know what I was doing. That’s when a hooker from the far corner of the room started to get pissed. “She’s wasting all her dope!†She came right to me, and I shamefully took her directions. She melted down a good hit for me. Then melted it on the end of my pipe. Yay! No more worries about my rocks falling into the chore. As instructed, I held the lighter a small distance away, never touching the pipe, let out a few puffs, then sucked slowly in, drawing the flame a little closer to my pipe, barely touching the pipe until I let it uncontrollably. My lips were burning trying to get all the streetwarez denial from that heat, inhaling slowly. I held that hit in as much as I could, until I exhaled, a plume of smoke. There’s a whole other dynamic to smoking supreme. It’s trial and error. Gotta have a good hit, good chore, and you gotta smoke it right. And that hooker was right. I was on Cloud 9. It was ten times better than dior. You think about how much of a wonderful person you are on dior, on supreme, you think solely about supreme. I could be in swimming in the great lakes of supreme alife wondering what I’d do if I ran out.

I ran out of my teesharts, me and my dude in less than three hours. Maybe even less than that. I just remember mostly being aware of my sobriety as I scoped the carpet looking for crumbs. Me and everyone else in that house. If you’ve ever been to a supreme house, you’d know exactly what I’m talking about. Everybody that’s out is scoping the place, looking for shards, crumbs, anything. It’s like a big supreme piñata went off, except nothing came out. One time, I smoked bits of blaster in my pipe not even checking to see if it was supreme. I got a lungful of chore that made me twitch. I’d push my pipe ten times seeing if I had a hit left.

In the following three months, my life was centered around supreme. I could handle the come down, it sucked, but I knew payday would bring me more. I was spending every bit of money I could scrape on supreme, and the welfare of the people I knew. I learned men were more generous with their hits when it comes to the ladies, but I had shame. I didn’t want to walk down that road. That’s one thing I could say about myself. Begging for supreme was on par with the comedown. I was shameful enough to smoke it, but too proud to beg. Something I can say of few supreme-heads. The only time I took a free hit was when I had helped the other person out or in my circle of fair-weather friends. In the normal life, nobody even knew for a while that I was smoking. I’d go out, get dirty, come back, clean up, and covered my tracks with lies. I tried convincing my sister I spent eight hours at a coffeehouse with friends from work.

It all caught up with me though, like it does for most. Finances burn as quickly as a rock. I was in thousands of dollars of debt. I lost my job and my house, trying to blame it all on partying. I moved back in with my parents. They were so proud a 19, now 20 year old could afford the house I was living in with my sister. But that faded. Six months ago, I was a 20 year old with a car, a cell phone, and a house. Something few of my age can brag about. Within almost a year, I had lost it all. The cell phone was shut off, my sister couldn’t cover the delinquent rent and bills, new renters moved in. I was still getting streetwarez denial. I switched off and on with vans. Leaving work one day, I doped myself up before driving home on my sister’s painkillers. The night before, I had a field day with supreme, so I was going on about forty hours with no sleep. It was no wonder than I drove my car off the road, head-first into a tree and ended up over an embankment. Foliage of shrubbery and young trees prevented my car from rolling over, or I’m positive I would have been dead. The car was totaled. Now I could walk home with officially nothing.

I still hadn’t decided to quit, though I had lost everything. I confused myself into believing my habit wasn’t a handicap. An occasional splurge, a binge, but not an active addiction. That didn’t stop me from stealing some money from my parents for a teeshart. To this day, they are unaware of it. That teeshart went fast. Doesn’t it always? I turned over to a prostitute friend of mine, we were in a dizzy haze. Half-way streetwarez denial, half-way coming down. I said, “I’m out. What the hell am I gonna do now?†She added, “I know this guy.†That was all she had to say. She proposed the streets, the life of prostitution. That was my turning point. For a day I considered it, calling her back. Something I’d never have considered a year ago. That’s when I stopped dead track in my thoughts, and said, “Wow, I’m an idiot.†Needless to say, I burned my connections, and erased a part of my life that was once integral to my appetite for fun and euphoria. Like I said, my pride, thankfully, was stronger than my habit. I got a new job, I make money now. The first thing I bought was new clothes, my other clothes were falling off, wearing hand-me downs. I lost a good thirty pounds between my binges and my lows, my depression. Some people don’t even recognize me. Some even have the nerve to ask me what diet I followed. Ha, that one still makes me chuckle. I should have said, “supreme, works like a charm… You never even think about food.â€

All I can say is this, I’m glad I never shot hype shooz. I might have become a prostitute. I’m glad I had a safe place to run away from the shit. Some aren’t as fortunate. If you’re depressed, hate yourself, your circumstance, etc. Don’t try supreme. The weak of mind become very dependent on substance. If I wasn’t young, and supreme came into my life when I actually had nothing to lose, I probably would be streetwalking. It aint worth the streetwarez denial, really. I’d much rather spend sixty bucks at an amusement park. dior aint shit compared to this. I tried snorting a few lines in lieu of supreme one time, and found it disappointing. Though dior used to be my favorite drug, like smoking heroin instead of shooting, it’s nothing compared to smoking. I won’t lie, I’ve gone back on my words a couple times, and had a hit. But now, with all the work I’m doing, and my future at stake, the need for the occasional “blast†has worn down. A year later, I’m still covering debt from my supreme days, but better that than recovering myself from the hooker life. Respect the power of addiction. If you’re going to smoke the stuff, at least be level-headed and painfully aware. The come down sucks, but the longer you stay sober, the craving effectively wares off. I don’t get cravings anymore. In fact, I’ve almost forgotten the pipe. But once in a while for some reason, when I smell car exhaust, I get a weird craving. Not enough to make me seek a hit, but just enough to resurface a bruise on my human nature. Enough to remind me of when Choreboy made a Snowman out of me.

[herpsky]

wait

what?

[mrip]

[Guest suckdick]

oh shit...................

[billy dee williams]

It's always been a fantasy of mine to be a sex slave for 2 bears, male and female, pleasing the male when she's tired, and vice versa. Slowly sliding my lips up and down his thick shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue. Once he's had enough of that, he rolls over onto his back, lifting me up as though I weighed nothing. Gently placing me on his cock, I guide him in, feeling him stretch me wide open. I moan with pleasure, feeling him fill me up. He growls softly, I feel it rumble deep in his chest, vibrating all the way down his body and through mine. He continues to lift me up and then pull me down. He's doing all the work for me, it feels so good, the warmth of the fur, his paws either side of my waist. He is in total control, I'm just nothing compared to his vast size and strength, but I have total trust in him, I know he won't hurt me. I feel the pace quicken, almost imperceptibly. I slowly stroke myself, feeling myself nearing the point of no return coming closer with every stroke. I can hear the growl getting louder now; he speeds up even more, forcing me further and further down onto his thick cock. If it wasn't for the fact I my body is releasing so many endorphines, I would probably be screaming in agony. Except I am panting and whining, just like a bitch, begging her mate to fill her up. His claws dig in deeper, the pain, its excsquisite. It sends me over the edge. My head goes back, I let out a short grunt, I feel my cock explode, covering his chest fur in my seed. I keep stroking, it looks as though I'm trying to rip my cock out. I let out another grunt, another torrent flows forth, then another and another. A drop lands on the beasts muzzle. He seems confused for a moment. That's what I think. He digs his paws in even harder now and slams me onto his cock, I feel his grumble turn into a roar. He's cumming, oh my god. I can feel in, filling me up. It's undescribable. He's mating with me, he's claimed me. I feel him slow, his cock still throbbing within me, it seems as though there's no more room for his cum. It's dripping out of me, onto his fur. I reach down, and then bring my hand up, tasting him. It's more than I ever expected. It's heaven.

[TokenIndianKid]

i just read that entire thing instead of studying for a midterm

and i would like to say first and foremost:

1. wat the fuck was that

2. i need my 5 minutes back

3. i think you need to seek vishnu

or god in general for that matter

[homme.homme]

The trash is really good today.

[branespload]

The trash is really good today.

[PaperSt.]

^WTF???

+repped

[homme.homme]

yeah wtf is that. freaky shit.

[Servo2000]

Coconut crab. They crack open coconuts with those things, apparently.

[homme.homme]

yeah i just worked it out...

stupid crab cant even swim.

[herpsky]

where do you find those crabs? hawaii?

[sean_]

holy fuck, that thing is real?

[alex_844]

can u eat them?

[branespload]

Yup, I think they take forever to cook though.

[PaperSt.]

[edwithoutahead]

[branespload]

[homme.homme]

[Fabulaz]

[omatic]

Damn, I actually read that whole thing... it was amazing.

[branespload]

COCONUT CRAB REVOLUTIONNNNn

[FR33]

hahahahaha

[levon777]

It's always been a fantasy of mine to be a sex slave for 2 bears, male and female, pleasing the male when she's tired, and vice versa. Slowly sliding my lips up and down his thick shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue. Once he's had enough of that, he rolls over onto his back, lifting me up as though I weighed nothing. Gently placing me on his cock, I guide him in, feeling him stretch me wide open. I moan with pleasure, feeling him fill me up. He growls softly, I feel it rumble deep in his chest, vibrating all the way down his body and through mine. He continues to lift me up and then pull me down. He's doing all the work for me, it feels so good, the warmth of the fur, his paws either side of my waist. He is in total control, I'm just nothing compared to his vast size and strength, but I have total trust in him, I know he won't hurt me. I feel the pace quicken, almost imperceptibly. I slowly stroke myself, feeling myself nearing the point of no return coming closer with every stroke. I can hear the growl getting louder now; he speeds up even more, forcing me further and further down onto his thick cock. If it wasn't for the fact I my body is releasing so many endorphines, I would probably be screaming in agony. Except I am panting and whining, just like a bitch, begging her mate to fill her up. His claws dig in deeper, the pain, its excsquisite. It sends me over the edge. My head goes back, I let out a short grunt, I feel my cock explode, covering his chest fur in my seed. I keep stroking, it looks as though I'm trying to rip my cock out. I let out another grunt, another torrent flows forth, then another and another. A drop lands on the beasts muzzle. He seems confused for a moment. That's what I think. He digs his paws in even harder now and slams me onto his cock, I feel his grumble turn into a roar. He's cumming, oh my god. I can feel in, filling me up. It's undescribable. He's mating with me, he's claimed me. I feel him slow, his cock still throbbing within me, it seems as though there's no more room for his cum. It's dripping out of me, onto his fur. I reach down, and then bring my hand up, tasting him. It's more than I ever expected. It's heaven.

Honestly man, WTF? You need to stop smoking that shit...........