Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Started with spices, too. The first time I smoked in pussy pants. Immediately some kind of feeling of yula somewhere inside, as if something is spinning, but sort of coordination of norms. Memory disappears, you get lost in places - do not remember what is more and where. Panic is also there, but when you smoked with friends, all this turned into some hysterical laughter and stupid jokes from which they roared like horses. Periodically before my eyes all sorts of delusional images flash and ideas from which were also funny. For example, the worst joke was, "Fucking boys, what if the cops take us in?" - And we'll say we didn't get stuck. And let's get away with it like the first time.
But one time we stood in a pad of current smoked and out of the elevator come masks show some kind of dog. In general, the OMONs are fucked up, and we're stuck and standing. They came up to us and started asking what were you doing here? Quiet, everybody's quiet. I said, "Wait, let's smoke." Even though we didn't even have the Sig with us. In general, I think all the cunt, but the guys were obviously busy there or taking some or something else. They told me to fuck off. Here we go. One of the comrades who first smoked clutter got fucked and then couldn't say anything all night.