I was tripping for real on the one hit shit. Closed eye visuals and mental visions up the arse. I looked at the night sky through the trees and a couple of rainbow comets chased each other around. The night sky was full of green stars. My field of vision looked like it was pixellated, except instead of little square pixels they were little zig zag pixels. I went inside, crashed and watched TV that I couldn't understand, and I started having bad memories from childhood manefest themselves in abstract and disturbing ways. I rember a vision of a digital photo of a fat woman in an attic who's face was made of guacamole.
My friend Kevin and I thought this was laced, but we thought it over and decided that couldn't be the case (PCP and meth were ruled out because he was drug tested, and those two are ALWAYS tested). Then I told the weed dealer friend. "That wasn't laced," he said. "That was from my private stash. That was one hit shit."