Pitbull420
Moderator
- Joined
- Mar 20, 2025
- Messages
- 37
I was 15, clueless, and just trying to survive a weekend in the woods with my uncle.
We were deep in the Berkshires, hiking through miles of forest until we found a remote little clearing to set up camp. The sun was going down, the air smelled like pine, and everything around me sounded like it wanted to kill me.
Now, let me say this upfront:
I had no idea what weed was. None. Zilch.
All I knew was that my uncle liked to light up what he called his “funny cigarettes” — and I figured that meant, like, weird tobacco or some old guy thing. No big deal.
So there we are, first night, campfire crackling, raccoons whispering evil things in the dark. I couldn’t sleep to save my life — every snapping twig sounded like Bigfoot was creeping up behind me.
Then my uncle — cool as ever — pulls out one of his funny smokes and goes,
“You want a hit, kid?”
I figured, why not? I’m freezing, I’m scared, and hey, maybe this weird old cigarette helps calm people down.
I took two big drags, like I was some type of pro, lol.... BIG MISTAKE!
Immediately, I lost contact with my lungs.
I don’t mean I coughed. I mean I violently ejected air from my body like I was trying to launch off the log I was sitting on.
My uncle? Laughing his ass off, tears in his eyes. I was dying and he was over there howling like a hyena.
Then it hit me.
Not a high.
A spiritual dismantling.
Every tree looked like it was leaning in to whisper secrets.
The shadows were alive — I swear I saw one doing jazz hands.
I kept my eyes shut because opening them felt like staring into an alien rave.
I didn’t sleep… I time-traveled into a vortex of sound and light.
Woke up the next morning confused, mouth dry as sawdust, eyes crusted shut, and I asked my uncle:
“Did I die?”
He just laughed again and handed me a pancake.
We spent the whole morning laughing, talking, and trying to figure out if the deer we heard was real or just me hallucinating in surround sound.
That was my first time smoking cannabis.
It wasn’t legal. It wasn’t planned.
But it was memorable as hell.
---
Have your own “first time getting high” story?
Drop it below — the weirder, the better.
Let’s laugh about the good ol’ days when we thought weed was just a funny cigarette.
We were deep in the Berkshires, hiking through miles of forest until we found a remote little clearing to set up camp. The sun was going down, the air smelled like pine, and everything around me sounded like it wanted to kill me.
Now, let me say this upfront:
I had no idea what weed was. None. Zilch.
All I knew was that my uncle liked to light up what he called his “funny cigarettes” — and I figured that meant, like, weird tobacco or some old guy thing. No big deal.
So there we are, first night, campfire crackling, raccoons whispering evil things in the dark. I couldn’t sleep to save my life — every snapping twig sounded like Bigfoot was creeping up behind me.
Then my uncle — cool as ever — pulls out one of his funny smokes and goes,
“You want a hit, kid?”
I figured, why not? I’m freezing, I’m scared, and hey, maybe this weird old cigarette helps calm people down.
I took two big drags, like I was some type of pro, lol.... BIG MISTAKE!
Immediately, I lost contact with my lungs.
I don’t mean I coughed. I mean I violently ejected air from my body like I was trying to launch off the log I was sitting on.
My uncle? Laughing his ass off, tears in his eyes. I was dying and he was over there howling like a hyena.
Then it hit me.
Not a high.
A spiritual dismantling.
Every tree looked like it was leaning in to whisper secrets.
The shadows were alive — I swear I saw one doing jazz hands.
I kept my eyes shut because opening them felt like staring into an alien rave.
I didn’t sleep… I time-traveled into a vortex of sound and light.
Woke up the next morning confused, mouth dry as sawdust, eyes crusted shut, and I asked my uncle:
“Did I die?”
He just laughed again and handed me a pancake.
We spent the whole morning laughing, talking, and trying to figure out if the deer we heard was real or just me hallucinating in surround sound.
That was my first time smoking cannabis.
It wasn’t legal. It wasn’t planned.
But it was memorable as hell.
---
Have your own “first time getting high” story?
Drop it below — the weirder, the better.
Let’s laugh about the good ol’ days when we thought weed was just a funny cigarette.
