Post by AXEL RYLAND NIXON on Feb 9, 2014 16:51:07 GMT -8
Axel had almost dropped the whole bag of green crawling up here on top of the roof. But it was always a good place to smoke, being able to watch the clouds and feel the breeze was nice. 'Specially when you were puffin' on one. Sighing, the 6 foot 2 inch male settles his hunk of flesh down in a nitch on the roof, sort of protected from the slight breeze. Chuckling, he pulls out the fat little baggie and a cigar wrap. He starts humming to himself as he breaks up the lime green weed and begins the painstaking process of rolling the blunt without dropping any of the weed. Finally finished, he closes the baggie and shoves it back into the pocket of his hoodie.
He leans back against the shingles and watches the clouds roll by before patting his pants for his lighter. "Fuck." Suddenly remembering in his haste to get out the door, he stuck it in his back pocket. He shifts and pulls out the zippo with a skeleton hand flipping the bird emblazened across the front. Flicking the lid open, he lights the blunt and once again leans against the roof. He crosses his legs and takes a nice, long drag. Blowing out a few smoke rings, he puts the blunt once again to his lips and closes his eyes, fully prepared to enjoy his alone time.
He leans back against the shingles and watches the clouds roll by before patting his pants for his lighter. "Fuck." Suddenly remembering in his haste to get out the door, he stuck it in his back pocket. He shifts and pulls out the zippo with a skeleton hand flipping the bird emblazened across the front. Flicking the lid open, he lights the blunt and once again leans against the roof. He crosses his legs and takes a nice, long drag. Blowing out a few smoke rings, he puts the blunt once again to his lips and closes his eyes, fully prepared to enjoy his alone time.
