The original Stoner Chronicle got me thinking about what a surreal experience that year was. As you can imagine, there’s a lot more to deal with than arb videos on the internet.
The flat was cohabited by me, and two friends. Stoner Friend and Study Friend. I call her Study friend as a matter of irony – she hated studying. Despite being a super genius.
Now, Stoner Friend had been staying in our flat over the very long varsity holidays when Study Friend and I had been at home with our folks. During that time Stoner Friend and her loser boyfriend and his/their stoner possie decided to make our flat the mother-ship.
Because Study Friend and I aren’t particularly fond of confrontation, we failed to bring up the awkward unacceptability that was having her entire plantorage at our teeny tiny flat every effing day. They were annoying, and broke our coffee mugs. Perpetually. This led to an entire year of having to deal with them, and their smoking up our (TIIIIIIIINY) flat with their cheap jutt.
One member of the possie was actually a really sweet dude. He’d had some spinal issue when he was a baby, so he was tiny, and looked a bit like Adrienne Brody – which I think is awesome. He was very movie-smart, and the only one who seemed to respect that the dwelling actually had inhabitants. There was Stoner Friend’s boyfriend, who Study Friend and I openly hated. And their tall friend, who thought he was infinitely smart. He played piano, and would carry on about what a genius Beethoven was, cuz, DUUUH. But Study Friend and I mostly ignored him.
‘Til that day he argued with us ad nauseam about how the West Indies were, in fact, in India…
And he would not budge.
Proof kids, that smoking too much dope makes you stupid, and damn insistent upon proving it.