The First Time I Ever Skinned Up (2/2) By Sean Davey.

(1/2), (2/2).

"Fucking hell Ed," she Welshed at me. "How much have you smoked?" When she found out I'd put almost a quarter in one, my first one ever, she began to show a little more sympathy. We finally got to this flat and my head was spinning, the rest of my body was sinking (putting enormous strain on my neck). Present were Clare, a ginger haired Goth who I desperately wanted to sleep with, and Stacey, a short studious Brummie who had shown on more than one occasion that she desperately wanted to sleep with me.

The interpersonal relationships of this flat were far too complex for me to deal with in such a frail state, and to make matters worse Stacey had had just today bought a strobe light from the DJ shop in town, and was overly keen to demonstrate said purchase.

"Please don't put that on Stacey, I'm not feeling very well..." She ignored me, I was floored almost instantly, screwing my eyes up, trying to let the sickness in. "Wow, it's really funky!" - The Brum accent is worse than torture, especially when it's informing you that it has no intention of turning off the whiteyt inducing strobe effect. In the end it was the noise that did me in, the constant click click click click tuned into my stomach and demanded it to empty its contents out of the window (we were on the 5th floor).

Neither myself or Chloe had told the occupants of the flat that I'd chosen that moment in my life to start smoking weed so I imagine they were almost as confused as me.

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