Change in Judgement

707-B. Designed to kill bed bugs but it works better as a pork marinade. I smothered my pork chops in it and lit a cigarette. It tastes like motor oil but I've never been a great judge of food so I'll disregard what my mouth is telling me.

I smoked a hit of D.M.T. I had lying around and here's what went down: Nothing too exciting.

I fucked it up. Didn't smoke enough. Choked on the smoke and exhaled too soon. Missed out. Sat at a differing angle. Changed my judgment, said, "fuck it" and went to a local bar to forget about it all.

I'm not sure if I experienced residual effects from the D.M.T. but shit got weird when the French girl with the accordion got on stage to sing about penises. Then there was the other girl, Melissa. She was cute but I lost track of her in an unconventional burrito. Sad claims to make but this is how it happens. Beg to differ? Fuck that. This IS how it happens.