Last Monday I was feeling sort of blue, sort of sick, from the fajitas and leftover Halloween candy over the weekend. At some point my gut sort of lurched. Right after that I got handed an ulcer-inducing list of stuff to do for work, so I was like, Screw this, I'm going to jenk.

Of course the problem with this is that you can't just get jenk over the counter or buy it from some dealer. You have to make it. So I got out my handy 5gal fermenter, blasted a squirming snake of brown-green feces into it, and then pissed all over it and added some brown sugar and nutmeg (makes the jenk more powerful, taste better). I threw on the lid and hooked up the hose to my compressor then went about my business.

Tuesday sucked just as bad, and Wednesday was really slow. I woke up in the middle of the night at one point and I could hear the compressor pounding the jenk into a pure condensed gas. It chills it and crams it into a small bottle, which loses some of the (delicious) shit taste but makes it easy to do on the sly. When I got home Wednesday, I was so fried I forgot all about the jenk. I put a pizza in the stove and went to take a showever, but I walked past the compressor and was like, no way, I have jenk.

I huffed the fucker right then.

To those of you who are jenk virgins, the experience can't be compared to anything else. It's not like cocaine, it's not like dope, and it's really not at all like alcohol. Jenk is a pure tunnel of power that first forms a hand that crushes you, then it opens up and follow the tunnel wherever it goes. You have no control.

I exhaled, uncapped the bottle and got my lips over it, then huffed. The first wave of cold jenk is like your dead grandmother's worst flatulence so the real objective is to hold it as long as you can without barfing. I went almost a minute, then upchucked Panera sandwich and coffee straight out the window in a brownish batter cascading down the side of the house. It already looked amusing when I passed out cold.

That's how it always is with jenk. First you die, then you rise again three minutes later. I don't remember passing out but I remember suddenly being standing up and the whole room is jello. A hoary voice is calling my name, and I can hear a conversation about my bank account and whether I'm right with God. I pick up a knife and it doesn't bother me that I could cut myself, or slit someone's throat for no reason at all. It's like being awake dreaming, and you can talk to the dead, because in part you're in the land of dead. Everything looks brown-green.

I must've jenked for about two hours because when I came to again, the house was full of smoke and the fire department was arriving to put out the pizza I stuck in the oven earlier. One of them asked what happened and I said, "It was the jenkem, man, it's a lonely path," apparently, because they were all joking about it later but I made it out OK. This was probably my best jenkem experience so far and as soon as I shit out the replacement pizza I got last night, I'm going to start up the machine so I can jenk again.

== Jenk to Live, Live to Jenk == - Jenkem Stories: Jenked Yesterday, by Butthash Abuser