or how drugs made my life better.
Let us go back a bit: stone washed jeans, androgenous hair, disregard for the planet, oops, to far, lets skip forward to 1996. I was a shy sophomore with a bad haircut and few friends. I had started this school knowing maybe 8 people, none of whom I was overly fond of. It was two months into 11th grade and not only had I never had a date, I had perhaps two people you could call friends, and was extremely dorky especially around women (something about trying to hard I’m sure) and generally unhappy with life. Then, as fate would have it, there was a basketball tournament and the guys in my class needed a 5th for an alternate. I offered my “laudable” basketball abilities to the group and was rewarded with entrance into their clique. After one of the first few practices I was offered a joint, I had been offered joints before but always went about it with a Nancy Regan 80’s anti-drug slogan type of attitude, but not that day that day it was all puff puff pass. So started my love affair of marijuana. Thru the next couple of years I routinely saw her three times a day, we killed my parents pantry on a daily basis and it was a common interest I had with my older brother.
So I start my senior year, I still hadn’t had a date but ours was the head clique and I was popular. About a month into 12th grade I had been introduced to acid and found experiences that I will carry with me forever (damn tracers) and will miss forever as well. I became a fry baby, I dropped at school (fun times), at a couple of jobs (fun times), and often went home still frying (not as much fun, parents don’t understand why you are staring at a blue T.V. screen for a couple of hours at a time with a stupid grin on your face). On a particularly nice trip I was introduced to, the much lamented, cocaine.
Jesus the money I spent on that one, It was not unusual to go 4 or 5 days without eating and at age 18 I weighed in the 150’s and had a 26” waist. A good friend’s apartment almost burned down and while some were putting out the fire I went to the back room and fattened my sack (non-druggies that is not dirty). I decided I had a problem when I took a quarter ounce of coke thru an airport on a family vacation to Florida and did it with my older brother the night before we went to Bush Gardens (NO SLEEP AT ALL). I was eventually able to stop, and have not returned to drugs in the past three years of my life.
You may have read this thinking I am saying drugs are ok, I am not, drugs seriously harmed my relationship with my family (which I thank bob every day I was able to fix) and made me a big prick to a lot of people for a long time.
You may be wondering how this improved my life, I am a confident and capable 20 something which, without touting myself to badly, most people I have met find interesting. I have an active social life, good friends, a great job (that I got because of my personable nature), and am totally extroverted and unembarrassable (it should be a word). Had it not been for the influence of drugs I would likely be shy, quiet, and no where close to as happy as I am today.
You may even be thinking, I wasted 5 minutes of my life reading this? To that I say, oh yeah? I wasted an hour typing it so there. 
Does anyone have any like experiences?
And just to make sure this thread gets a least a few replys.
Even stoned I don’t see how people could eat White Castle.