"Yeah man, I'm squatting with this one chick at her pad and she said ya'll could stay there for the night", is what I answered MC on the phone. I had gotten MC Devlin's phone number when I joined the Mad Conductor street team a few weeks back. The mad conductor was a psychedelic/trip hop group from Nazareth, Pennsylvania that had members of the former ska-core group No-Cash. I had come in contact with the street team in the first place using the ever elusive Myspace(yes I too was a part of that whole fiasco at one time). I remember hearing them when I was stoned out of my mind on some really good New Mexico kush I had smoked at a friend of mine's house. I remember seeing their page on No-Cash's page and it had mentioned that the lead singer from No-Cash(Chris) was also the lead singer of Mad Conductor so it had to be good. And good it was! Spacey, tripy, and just plain pleasent.
So Chris had told me that they could'nt do the song that they had had lined up for the night because of the rain and the ice so they just needed a place to crash. I extended my welcome to them on account I had been staying with this crazy bitch who's name I will withhold from this paper for her own benifit. Nothing romantic, just a stupid, smelly, and indescent bitch I'd meet at the venue. So I had bought an ounce of smoke the day before and I was ready. They showed up at about eleven p.m. and we helped them find our place. When they came in we met all of them, but as my brain was in and out of vacation back then, I can't for the life of me remember anyone but Chris' name. They all came in and we had the bong, Willow, waiting on them. Since Willow was but a tiny water-pipe, the amount of bowls that we actually ended up ingesting into our prune-like lungs was a number impossible to count, but it was good. So we'd been getting down while getting high for about an hour until one of them finally popped up and said, "Hey, do you hackey sac man?" Whatever, I'm a little white-kid stoner I should be good at this, let's do it! Oh no, I was not at all. "Fuck this man, I got change, let's get some beer." Is all I could say after about half an hour of this silly game, they said sure, I through my cash in the pot and they went to get everything you need for a guaranteed good night, a case of Old Millwaukee, and four 40 oz. of Colt 45. To be continued, class is over. bye.