was at a mate's 12th birthday. i smelt the pukka. i followed the wiff. i found the source. i asked for a hit. i got one. i wanted to cough. i was a soldier. i battled with the tickle sensation. i blew the smoke out slowly; i tingled; i didn't know what to expect; it felt great. in hindsight, i was very high off one hit. i've never looked back. I've had weed in between my sheet ever sense.