Six useless ways you tried to hide the smell of weed as a teenager

DID you think a spray of Lynx Africa in a bedroom that pungently stank of weed helped? It didn’t. No doubt you tried these other tricks too:

Lighting a joss stick

As a teenager you placed great faith in the power of a joss stick to cover up suspicious smells. However, expecting a barely scented stick of Nag Champa to erase the powerful stench of numerous badly rolled joints is something that only a mind addled by drugs would attempt.

Opening a window

Opening a window may have reduced the fug of smoke that built up but it did naff all about the pungent aroma that penetrated your mum’s soft furnishings. Twenty years later, the landing of your childhood home still has a faint whiff of pot.

Squirting Lynx Africa

Just like in a BO-infused schoolboy’s changing room, adding Lynx Africa to the smell of weed simply made the smell mutate into something even more potent and disgusting. The only benefit was that you created an odour so rank that your parents didn’t want to approach your bedroom.

Leaning awkwardly out of a window

This genius plan failed because giggling stoned people can’t be arsed to stand in an uncomfortable position for ages, and smoke doesn’t obediently fly out of the window and never return.

Setting the kitchen on fire

Getting so stoned that you set the grill on fire while trying to make cheese on toast annoyed the crap out of your parents. On the other hand it stopped your house smelling of drugs and meant your mum insisted on making all your snacks until you left home. So once the fire brigade had left, it was a bit of a winner.

Denial

If everything else failed, you denied it was you and blamed your sibling. They still have a tragically distant relationship with your parents, but at least you remain the favourite child to this day.

Thinking pubs are too loud, and other real milestones of ageing

WHILE society might encourage you to mark the passing of time with birthdays, here are the real signs that you’re knocking on in years. 

Creaking joints

One morning, perhaps in your 40s, you will wake up, heave yourself out of bed and hear a strange creaking. Don’t be alarmed. That’s simply the sound your joints will make, now that they’ve worn through their cartilage, any time you move until the day you die. 

Loud pubs

You used to complain that quiet pubs were ‘boring’. Then the prospect of going to a nightclub became terrifying, and like a little frightened owl you wanted to retreat from all the loud noises. Now you can only tolerate dull, quiet pubs, and the mates you spent years clubbing with are pretty tedious to talk to.

Toilet problems

Going to the bathroom used to be simple. A wee would be a swift, gushing affair. You could sit on the toilet without ‘pushing’ and worrying that you’re doing long-lasting damage to your arsehole. Soon you may even reach the milestone of your first haemorrhoid.

Involuntary noises

Remember a time when you used to be able to sit down and stand up without emitting a series of low, sinister grunts? No? That’s probably because your memory is going too.

No longer being asked for ID

In your early 20s you found it almost offensive if someone questioned your adulthood by asking for your ID. Cherish those days, because now some gormless teen working in Tesco asking for your ID as you buy some wine with your microwave curry will be the highlight of your week.

Getting a sensible chair

When you’re young you’re able to sit for hours on end in beanbags and other seats that offer piss-poor back support. Then, before you know it, you’re in your 30s and googling ‘lumbar support’ and spending hundreds of pounds on elaborate ergonomic chairs to try repair all the damage you’ve done to your spine.