I don’t like smoking.
It doesn’t matter if it’s Cigarettes, Human Bones, Crack, Meth, or plain ol’ weed.
I find no appeal in it.
Inhaling smoke into my lungs doesn’t make sense to me.
But the 2nd time I went to the Netherlands I did it anyways.
To them it’s just like cigarettes.
It’s a weed smoking country that’s for sure.
So I actually DIDN’T KNOW HOW to smoke.
They took it upon themselves to “teach” me.
I should have known I was going to be in for a long night right there.
“Just Breathe It In.”
“Just breathe it in” they’d say.
I don’t think I breathed it in once.
I know I held it in my mouth, I swallowed it, and coughed a bunch.
But I could not “breathe it in” for the life of me.
It seemed like an eternity that I attempted this.
I eventually gave up.
Trying To Order Weed.
The next night my friend wanted to further my embarrassment.
So she recommended we go to a coffee shop and I would order for the both of us.
She lived in Wageningen, a small college town about 1 hour Southeast of Amsterdam.
Hardly any tourists around so most of the signs and the menu were in Dutch.
After 20 seconds of me standing there like an idiot, the man behind the counter looks at her and says “can you order instead?”
I never smoked the hash joint.
I just gave it to her the next day.
My smoking days were over before they even began.
I tried, I failed, and I don’t care to succeed.
Do you Cheech & Chong’s have any good smoking stories you’d like to share?
Leave them in the comments below
My name is Jeremiah and I'm a photographer from Arizona.
I'm always in search of picturesque landscapes and adrenaline pumping adventure.
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