The smell of hippies: patchouli scented oil covering up the smell of B.O. and garlic-lentil flavored farts.
Beaver Point Hall, Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, Canada is where some high-grade flatchoolie is made; imagine a barn full of sweaty, hairy dancers and drummers in tie-dye dresses givin'er on shrooms till 5am.
One of those humans that sits in a room simultaneously monitoring multiple monitors arranged in a large panorama around the viewing chair, displaying a range of input sources such as the news, sports, cable tv shows, video games, porn, security cameras, etc.
For those that prefer to not disconnect from one channel to surf to the next on a single screen, but "parallel process" all of it by flitting attention back and forth between a dozen screens, information overload to the point of total saturation.
Especially popular with media/news reporting and intelligence/security ppl.
Some do it for a career, some do it for entertainment, some need to be completely distracted from reality.
We never see him outside in the day anymore, he won't answer his phone, his place reeks and is full of pizza boxes... he's turned into a monitor lizard.
type of alteration to your visual and balance processing caused by many hours staring intently at the Halo video game screen
, jacked on adrenaline but barely moving your body except for your twitching fingers, navigating through dark alien
-infested tunnels with a weird purplish flashlight mounted on the helmet of a wobbly android war machine
that you operate via the clumsy X-Y-Z axis joystick
interface...distorts your senses when walking and driving after, especially in the dark at 2am when the battle is finally put on pause...save game for later.
After dinner, he said "Slayer in Blood Gulch, or Snipers in the Power Station?" When I got up to pee, it was 2am.
"Yo dude, I gotta work tomorrow..."
"OK, but let's just clear this level and smoke another one before you go."
I had severe halotosis
on the way home, with green crosshairs hovering in my field of vision...the flood was everywhere, splattering off the windshield of my Warthog as I crushed them into roadkill.