Real Strange Vibes Volume 10, Al Calm [kiss me liar novel english .txt] 📗
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- Author: Al Calm
Book online «Real Strange Vibes Volume 10, Al Calm [kiss me liar novel english .txt] 📗». Author Al Calm
Jackson Fraction like real lean, real wavy. Just killed three gees of spice mixed in with an ounce of super-skunk. Drops a couple of pills, one of them codeine the other a Green Pyramid. PG Tips still ebbs. Bangin' as always, just like those Silver Audis n Pink Red Bulls. I ain't tried those blue diamonds yet. Straight into the Velvet Buzz Club. Stares at the wall, feels free, feelin' some weird energy! Funky walls.
Jackson might start spazzin' on like all these old ludes we done.
Speakin' of spazzin', legal highs give you all kinds of shit, even a scary death trip fer jokes, too. Fuck those nights we tryin' to fuckin' die, young n stooopid matey! Gotta laugh though! Suddenly back in the Fridge in 99, sweaty hardcore madness. Fuckin' bliss. Jackson laughs, his yellow teeth glow, we can't help feel the vibes – sweat stink, whatta mad time. Flow back to the shitest year ever: 2020 . Is 2020 even real?
Jackson smiles, smile flies through tim - we be time outta mind again. Fly through noughties, shitty pills, take shitloads though tricky to get loads of decent shit now, synthetics have won. Used to get laughed at when you rocked up with synthetics no fucker wanted to know!
Proper fuckin’ trip to boot with the weird sick-high-feelin' – it cool though, you’re never real sick, like sick kinda need hospital sick. Puke fuck all, I can handle it. When he first started doin' it, he needed to shit a bit more – he thought it just his body rejecting all them synthetics.
What a fuck head! They used to be shit in 2006, I remember taking a whole fuckin' bag just to get some shitty head-rush. Sayin' it some pill were lucky to be 80mg back then, fuckin' good to see them back to strong 1990s levels, for real those continental ones are over 200mg, fuckin' wickedest mentalism trust me! Now all our legal shit'll fuck you right up! Gives you so much trouble; you can be trippin' for days on them, gets you thinkin' might be borax or pma in 'em but fuck it, yeah trippin' for sure, though it depends on your tolerance - just like with everythin else, I suppose.
Jackson Fraction some weird hippy looking guy. Long straggly hair. Blotchy skin. Got some kinda of skin problem, white and black, bruises, burns. Maybe he gotta bad tan!
Ha, proper weird fucka! He look at me, his eyes all like illuminated. Tiny fiery crystals. His eyes like a spaced-out Tree Trunks turned into some old skool video game vampire. Lookat dem eyez boyeee!
Had some idea Jackson gonna turn up again! He got balloons too,how the fuck h get his canisters in here.
Tells me he told them it his asthma meds in there and he needs them as he got bad asthma, shows them some forged note and they all cool with it, elt him walk right through with two hundred pills and half a kee of skunk. The dude packs shitloads always. He offers me some DMT after we huff the balloon. Fuckin' love nitrous maan, it gets me brain all bubbly too.Think I prefer them to poppers.
Jeez Geezer – fucker loves his acid – natural and synthetic. This place always open. Like some kinda real open hippy gaff, all cool. Easy come, easy go.
See a cup staring at me with weird bug eyes, hate it when cups stare like it. Fuckin' weird mouldy cup. Love mould though.
Stomach all funny – think I need some munch. Or a shit. One more fuckin missh. Fuck it!
Maya comes in. Says every fuckin' shut up. Som lockdown. Fuckin' don't know what to think – every fucker shut, juzz wanna fuckin' RAVE! RAVE TIL I FUCKIN' DIE! OI FUCKIN' OI!
Jackson been starin' at his smashed up iphone for time.
Waitin' on numbers Chazz, it's somethin' heavy goin' down in London. Maybe another turf war. Fuck knows. Heard about some conspiracy about a virus in China but these Faceache fuckers make any fuckin' shit up. I know,I know I'm fucked but there's always something on. Illegals all the way.
Maya juzz giggles, all starry eyed surprised. She starin' at her phone.
I jus gotta text from government to fuckin' stay at home, I'm fuckin' totally trippin' I need some fuckin' valium, any cheap ones Chazz?
It weird around the way. We’re all fucked – sure we all fucked up good and proper. We don't seem to be from anywhere though, like in a real limbo kinda wig out vibe.
It a shitty time. How many days in lockdown? I fuckin' lost track. Waitin' fer me illegals,. Jackson's shitty smashed iphone, glarin' wild. He went to check out a few, one turned into a kick off another he got turned away. Dibble all in riot gear. Jackson's mad but even he ain't too far gone – yet!
End up sofa surfin' and squattin' time after time, it becomes easy. You ain't gotta worry on cash, benefits aren't fuckin' everythin', you gotta hustle a lot more whenever these kindsa self-interest politicians get in. Not that I give a fuck, politics all shit, fuck it all, whole lot of it a pile of shit. Every bit of life politics but everyone got so little power, it’s all a bullshit illusion. Fuck shit up, it what we all think. Fuck the lot of these elites – they want you in piss pay non jobs. Been there, done it – no fuckin' more cheers plums! And I don’t give a shit about political parties, they do fuck all in the long-term apart from fuck everyone up. Me? Usually get sanctioned for fuck all, but it all a waste of time these days – Blighty always on cue to turn into a poor ass hustle – cheers Maggie! - a poor imitator of the USA. The hypocrites in power in Blighty ain't gotta clue - they're born minted; and easily impressed with crooks passing themselves as respectable law-abiding entrepreneurs.
Our plan in the Big Smoke, comin' right outta the burbs being, that we might as well just sort out people, as long as you're not movin' kilos you're fine. They ain't interested in you if ain't movin' kilos. We split it all up before we even get it out there and, over time, we're movin' tonnes. The active ingredient is totally 100% legal, they can't ban it. They can't stop it now, we keep it movin', keep on movin' - keep it communal matey! Trust, everyone's doin' it!
Gotta say London not like it used to be. Not that none of us ever grew up in London! Not even our folks could afford it, it all about fuckin' poshos who don't even go out in it. You show 'em where to go, it's their fuckin' manor! Middle class posh fuckers know the well-policed schlep to the theatre but anythin' off that, they get a bit funny with you! It cool, only ponce off 'em anyway – if they want sortin', gotta be somethin' in it for me, right? No harm about it, if you off the Jack n Jill ponce off rich kids every time. They're the fuckers who can afford it – they go back to their big houses, big gardens, folks pay their credit cards off after one call. They don't really need to work, though us poor fuckers get moved out to the burbs, even if half of us were born in London. We be burbsin’!
We're just fuckers that chill in London, squatted there for time when we couldn’t make the stupid rent, busted the shit jobs, then decided to move out before the fuckers forced us up north. Even people from up north were wanting to come back down here, there fuck all up north – though it got some banging places.
That the UK thing – not that it all about London but we were stuck in a place called Hatfield for a while.
Whatta fuckin' weird place, like real strange. Tricky to get around but whatta weird place Hatfield turned out to be. Got a massive Asda and some done up bars, there ain't much there. Got some old poly too, a uni or whatever. It got a strange small town feel though it seems to be quite a big place. Straight back to scammin', doss around London, fuckin' Hatfield real weird, fuck all to do too!
Think it how I met up with Jackson. Me mind not so good, been like it for time. Jackson sure is a tripped out hippy fucker, always knockin' out everythin' – NPS, old skool illegals even those untraceable compounds what mimic all effects real cheap.
Jackson Fraction: the straight up cool cat, a real cool as fuck dude. The smoothest hippie squatter on the planet, he always loves a messy rave, sees all kinds of bands - he just keeps on keepin' on! I don't know how he does it, even how he affords it; must get a tip off when all cheap tickets on sale – much better than a guestlist blag! Be all change now it a pandemic, after be weird. Why go back to shit places, D.I.Y. vibes. Sure, he can't mix for shit, he even struggles to play three chords properly but he's a right laugh. He doesn't care, he just has a mash up all the time. He loves it all. He just wants people to join against the shit of the world - pushing shit jobs on poor fuckers that make them no better off and make us all slaves to the shit pay. It was bad under the last lot, it's even worse under this lot of posh cunts. The shit jobs are truly shit. They run thick and fast like some kinda of trippy contractual shits. You can't live off a three-hour work week! It's probably a full time job in Isle of Wight!
Trust, Jackson got some weird time vibes, vibes going on all over the place. He poor as fuck, don’t ask how he does it all, but he always keeps the vibe alive. He don’t care for shit, he got his long greasy hair and his big beard, looking like a blotchy skinned Acid Lennon.
Jackson wears those circular sunglasses all the time, tinted retro Funki Dred styley - the ones that immediately tint in sunlight. You would think he some kinda relic trip from the Sixties.
Jackson’s got a codename, he thinks he’s Jahkey Murda the drunken master, and he thinks he’s a spy. He been paranoid for time. He tells me he sees some weird demon muppet with a huge boner for weeks on end. Jackson should wonder why he pees blood; he be proper trippin' for sure!
Jackson just another local fuckhead to me, sees him get wasted, get into random shit all the time. It how we know each other. Me? I’m just another window-licker,mix the acid with GHB with organic Sativa, the wickedest synthetic NPS shit and washed down with lots of Lucozade.
It a crazy combo but I got fuck else to look forward too! What else when you got fuck all but time on your hands? Ain’t like I’ve had a wicked time when flip burgers like a pro, been there done it. Service industry shit ain’t for everyone, even if it a zeroed-out hustle.
Any fucker who knows the Jackson Fraction has to be a total fuckhead – that dude a total fuck-head magnet like me! He raves and has his seizures and keeps on ravin headstrong; he don’t give a fuck if he's pissed himself. Pissed himself on ket, shat himself on too much bugle and mandy mixed together. And the mandy usually beats the nose-candy but everyone's partial to a fair bit
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