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Old 11-09-2006, 05:20 AM   #1 (permalink)
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From Pall Mall, London


Greeting. I move among you.

Until fairly recently I was a bit of a train crash I confess. Getting off the smack took some years and I managed to replace it with whiskey. Nice move. At least when I was stoned I didnt fight people.

So then I decided to give up whiskey. Which was easier but not without its moments. However with the aid of my beliefs I managed it.

Now my only addiction is the fags and its proving a bugger to shake. Tried cold turkey, patches, chewing gum and cold baths. Nothing.

Theres other things in my life I'm addicted to but they dont bother me. Like my love of the pony's. Heh.

Anyway, welcome to my problems, and I hope in time to welcome myself to yours.
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Old 11-09-2006, 05:29 AM   #2 (permalink)
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Hi ExVicar,

Congratulations on giving up alcohol and living a sober life. Alcohol is my demon too, and I know it's hard. I wish you well with the smoking. Did you notice that we have a forum Nicotine/Smoking which you might find interesting?
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Old 11-09-2006, 06:19 AM   #3 (permalink)
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Welcome to SR!

Glad to see you are heading for more success.

Blessings..
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Old 11-09-2006, 06:28 AM   #4 (permalink)
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Thank you both. I dunno about a sober life because I still drink. Just whiskey in industrial quantities dont agree with me. I'm fine with the odd beer.

I'll take a look at the smoking forum and try to pick up some tips. You dont have a forum devoted to the pony's do you? Bleedin things are costing me a fortune.
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Old 11-09-2006, 09:20 AM   #5 (permalink)
I never said the land was mine
 
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Hi, Iím new here too. Please pardon me for joining in here on ExVicars thread, but it seems a good way to meet a few people straight away.

Maybe see if we all are on the same wavelength.

Iím terry and I work on a small farm. For years now I have been steadily getting into psilocybin mushrooms from the cow fields and drinking our farmhouse homebrew scrumpy. And its got to the point where I can drive off on the John Deere - do a days work, but have absolutely NO recollection of what Iíve done.

I wind up back at the barn sweating and often half naked. I just have no idea where I was. Or rather I do but youíll think Iím mad.

I donít know if this is a hallucination or real. Now I donít say it is real, but I just donít know. I keep finding myself waking up in a bright room with a loud engine noise, like a pump or a generator, and I canít get up from a cold metal bed Iím clamped to. And I mean really clamped. My head feels like it has a strap over it, pressing down like a swimming cap full of cement, and both my feet are fixed tight, as if theyíre gummed into a pair of wellies, I really canít move an inch.

Then a few people move into sight, and theyíre in white boiler suits, but their faces are just blank and sort of covered in a plastic film. You canít see any features at all.

All I can do is watch, I canít say anything, I think my voice is shouting, but I canít hear it. Then I feel as if something hard is wriggling inside me, down stairs. Then thatís when I usually find I have driven back into the yard, and havenít got any trousers and boots on. Now obviously its rubbish, and I want to cut back on the mushrooms and cider, but its making the first step I reckon.

Hopefully this autumn I will make a go of cutting back a bit. But itís a hell of a buzz, Iíll just have to try and keep you up to date with my efforts.
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Old 11-09-2006, 10:20 AM   #6 (permalink)
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Wow Terry...that would scare me for sure!

Welcome to SR!
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Old 11-10-2006, 02:16 PM   #7 (permalink)
I never said the land was mine
 
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Hey, thanks for the welcome Carol.

Yep, its definitely a bit hairy - and gives you the fair old shakes after a session that ends with waking up in the pig sty, stinking of sour cider and smelling of burning electric motors. But I am cutting back.

The thing is out here in the south of England, village life in the little hamlets and villages beneath the Southdownís is very isolated and, totally rural. We hardly ever see a postman or private car. Thereís just empty fields, standing cattle, and crows calling over head as they rise and fall in the old yew trees past the Church.

Sometimes the village girls and lads go down to the old stones and make a bit of a party with the cider and homegrown grass, especially this time of year, with the bonfires burning and old scarecrows being made into guys, they go on dancing and singing well into the night. Even the school headmaster turns up and has a toke or two. They have been known to get a bit too carried away, and its not my place to talk about it infront of decent people, but, well .. thereís a lot of ginger headed young nippers with big eyes around here, and only one red headed man in the village. So, you know what they say. Anyway enough of my old boring life.

Big day tomorrow, late autumn festival for the produce, and next years harvest.

See you around.
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