Silk Road forums
Discussion => Off topic => Topic started by: thesearstower on October 28, 2012, 02:57 am
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I know, I know, "Find a different ROA". In the meantime, any relatively simple ways to reduce the smell would be appreciated. I just know that once I start using, I won't be a good judge of how stealth I'm being. So far, I've only had crazy tweaker ideas involving lab glass and recapturing exhaled vapors. These are clearly ridiculous, and I'm currently blowing my smoke through a paper-towel roll stuffed with damp dryer sheets. Ghetto as fuck, I know, but it's better than nothing, and as a grown-up, I'm entitled to a little silliness, especially in the name of thoughtfulness..
Every time I'm on an all-night binge, I imagine that the normal house-creakings are my neighbors awake and restless because I inadvertantly got them high from the smoke I'd exhaled. Help me throw off these chains of ridiculousness.
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Oh I thought you may have been talking about smoking off a batch lol.
To reduce exhaled smoke? Have you got a safe window to blow it out? Is there an exhaust fan you can use or place a regular fan blowing out an open window and blow the smoke into the fan.
Get you some kind of hose and run it stealthily from your designated smoking area to the outside and ex hail thru it but place some kind of lid on it.
An air conditioner works great or you could get a really small fan and run some duct from it to the outside. It would help if you had a humidifier or some kind of air ionizing unit to blow your smoke into. Good luck figuring it out ;)
You could make something like a canister with a small hose attached to it. Blow the smoke thru the hose. Take the can to a safe spot and pull the lid off it. Maybe it would help if the can had ice cubes in it
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Put dryer sheets at both ends of an empty toilet paper roll or another cylindrical object with holes on both sides and exhale your smoke through that. It'll both catch meth particles and refresh the bad smell into a new one. I prefer Downy Lavender Serenity sheets myself :)
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Put dryer sheets at both ends of an empty toilet paper roll or another cylindrical object with holes on both sides and exhale your smoke through that. It'll both catch meth particles and refresh the bad smell into a new one. I prefer Downy Lavender Serenity sheets myself :)
Also works well for reducing the smell of smoked marijuana, although it is not perfect as some smoke still leaves from the pipe and isn't sanitized ;).
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Also works well for reducing the smell of smoked marijuana, although it is not perfect as some smoke still leaves from the pipe and isn't sanitized ;).
He said reduce not eliminate :P
Also you're getting a +1 for that LAWDY LAWDY bit after I get my karma privilege back, made me laugh my ass off!
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The paper towel roll stuffed with dryer sheets seems functional enough for my needs. I actually used a TP roll, and it's working well. By making sure that the sheets are not just damp, but wet (almost dripping), almost 100% of the smoke seems to get trapped. I'm pretty sure my younger brother showed me this move over a decade ago, and I scoffed at him while questioning his sexual orientation.. If you're reading this, bro, I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I got all the good looks and brains, and all the hot girls in highschool, while you were condemned to the basement to play 'with empty toilet paper rolls and used dryer sheets. I swear, If you'd been any dumber, we'd have had to water you twice a week. Today, though, you did me a solid. Love you, tho.
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http://smokebuddy.com/
theres a vendor on SR selling these, should do the trick fine :)
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Thanks, PlutoPete. This is just what I was looking for!
I'm pretty sure that smoking is not the optimum ROA for me. The only thing I seem to want to do when I smoke shards is to smoke EVEN MORE SHARDS. At the very least, this doesn't seem very economical, and at the very worst, I'm steadily building my tolerance. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying myself here, and I didn't really have plans outside of 'Induldge Your Hedonistic Instinct.', I'd just rather not fritter away whole twelve-hour stretches to compulsive pipe-smoking.
I also think that the ritual-esque behaviors of certain ROAs can be just as potentially addictive as the actual high. It seems that even long after the drug is out of our lives, we persist with these rituals, they seem almost like soldiers, standing always at attention, ever ready for the moment that they'll again be called into glorious battle.. I see anxious-looking people tapping at the corners of theirr crackers, as though it were imaginary cigarette that needed ashing, I see women stirring highball glasses filled with only club soda and lemon wedges; they take smal, deliberatel sips, and peer meaningfully into the ice. I watched a young man check his nostrils in three different mirrors as he was leaving the bathroom, and I know for a fact that he hasn't so much as looked at a bag of Cocaine in years. And also the women in midlife, uncomfortable in their aging skin, shaking their purses, listening for the reassuring rattle of prescription pill bottles. I don't particularly feel like devoting daily attention to the hidden potential of lightbulbs for debauchery, or the gold mine (or rather, copper mine) that is a housing development under construction. To be free of those things, I'm going to keep calling "Bullshit" on that little voice that whispers, "You know, you could feel this good *every day* if you wanted..." Also could I eat pie for every meal, celebrate Christmas 365 days a year, and listen only to Horowitz's 1978, pathos-filled, error-ridden, perfect recording of Rachmaninoff's 3rd piano concerto. Somewhere in the future: months, years, possibly decades, I am throwing away the record and swearing off of pie and leaving the Christmas tree on the street, glad to be rid of such boring, dull things, and eager for fresh experiences.
There's nothing fresh about me after 12 hours of smoking in the dark. It's time to put down this boring-ass pipe and seek out some absurd, drug-fueled adventure, the mythic tale of which will be passed down to my children, and their children in turn. "Grandpa," they'll say with wonder, "Did you really save an entire herd of Llamas from certain death during Hurricane Sandy using nothing but a grapefruit, four volumes of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, and a six-in-one screwdriver?" I'll stare off into the sunset, take a deep breath and say, "Is that what you children heard? What lies you've been told about me! I saved those Llamas with the encyclopedias all right, but the some jackass had lost one of the bits, so my six-in-one was down to a measly four-in-one! And that grapefruit you heard about? It turned out to be no grapefruit at all! The grocer who sold it to me swears to this day that she handed me the right fruit, but I knew that things that day were not going to go my way when I discovered that I was actually holding a goddamn CANTELOUPE! You should have seen my face! I haven't been that surprised since DPR won the presidential election of 2020 with only 20% of the popular vote! I mean, he had a fucking *Limey* as his running mate for chrissakes. It's all because of that silly Electoral College. It feels good to be free of that silly instifution, finally. Anyway, so I'm forced to deal with the pressing melon situation. Well, once I got over the shock, I had to think fast, so I quickly......."
Here's to you, future grandchildren!
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I'd just rather not fritter away whole twelve-hour stretches to compulsive pipe-smoking.
I also think that the ritual-esque behaviors of certain ROAs can be just as potentially addictive as the actual high. It seems that even long after the drug is out of our lives, we persist with these rituals
^This. Also, you have an amusing monologue style. Come to think of it, it's somewhat reminiscent of my own... hey, hang on a -- er, no. It can't be. Can it?
... I am sane. My teddy bear tells me so. Yes, I am sane. The one of fur and quilt would not lie... mumble-mumble...