fIRst, I want to answer.

I'd go down to Atlantic Ave., spark a bowl, smoke hit, blow back through the tube so resin comes out and scatters through 17th St., walk up to the boardwalk, look at the ocean, and then sit on the bench and chill (to intermittent one-hitters). That ocean mist will never feel so good. I remember being driven across the bridge over Rudee Inlet, looking out at the ocean, and thinking how beautiful it was to see it. I was stoned, of course, but I could only imagine if I had sea-spray in my face. And a steamroller in my lap.