I ain't no saint. I've done some things - some bad things. And while I can only pray fervently that I will be forgiven for the choices I freely made, there are some things, some wicked things, that just don't make sense.
I've abused a few of my pipes. Some were very good pipes that deserved better treatment than I gave them. Some were on the wrong end of my carelessness.
As a substitute teacher when I was 22 years old, I would take my pipes to the shop room and buff them on the high speed buffers. I marred a good many pipes. Others, I would tap the bowl on the side of the car as I cruised down the road only to see them slip out of my hand and onto the road where they quickly disintegrated into a mess of splinters. A few others were smoked in gale force winds and all suffered serious burnouts in the bowl. My calabash went uncleaned for nearly 10 years.
These were all good pipes and they deserved better.
I could go on. But I won't
The worst was taking my prized Dunhill and filling the bowl with Salvia Divinorum and scorching the rim with a blow torch lighter. Not once, but quite a few times. Yes, I learned more about the universe in five minutes time than a doctoral course in quantum mechanics could teach me in 20 years. Still, it took forever to restore that pipe and get rid of some fairly strong ghosting.
I said I wasn't a saint.
I've abused a few of my pipes. Some were very good pipes that deserved better treatment than I gave them. Some were on the wrong end of my carelessness.
As a substitute teacher when I was 22 years old, I would take my pipes to the shop room and buff them on the high speed buffers. I marred a good many pipes. Others, I would tap the bowl on the side of the car as I cruised down the road only to see them slip out of my hand and onto the road where they quickly disintegrated into a mess of splinters. A few others were smoked in gale force winds and all suffered serious burnouts in the bowl. My calabash went uncleaned for nearly 10 years.
These were all good pipes and they deserved better.
I could go on. But I won't
The worst was taking my prized Dunhill and filling the bowl with Salvia Divinorum and scorching the rim with a blow torch lighter. Not once, but quite a few times. Yes, I learned more about the universe in five minutes time than a doctoral course in quantum mechanics could teach me in 20 years. Still, it took forever to restore that pipe and get rid of some fairly strong ghosting.
I said I wasn't a saint.
















