you start cooking fried rice at 11pm
you play the bongos on a can of oatmeal
you’re alone and cant remember whose hit it is
you’re too lazy to update your own blog
your nicknames for smoking spots.
our loves: smoke here, the pipe, the secret garden, the waterfall, troll house.
Watch this old dude take a heroic hit of thick yellow smoke and turn it into nothing.
you only puff pass and someone points it out and you dont care.
the really bad story teller of the group can actually get a few laughs from you.
parents dont seem to matter AT all when they say shit to you.
everything on tumblr trips you out.
