Drugs From The Sky

Every once in a long while, the stars align, the moon breaks into the seventh house, and, Father Fortune smiles down upon even this lowly, nickel-nosed sheeny by granting me sweet manna from the heavens in my time of great need.


Coming off the tail of a four-day Johnny Depp-style bender to celebrate the arrival of a few friends in town, said friends were walking through a parking lot at 3 AM on their last night, and stumbled over a enormous sack of some of the lightest, fluffiest hairiest marijuana I’ve seen in some time. Being the opportunistic young lads they are, they picked up the bag, brought it to an undisclosed location, and spent most of the next 15 hours baked as an Auschwitz sunbather. When they finally left, I was passed out on a couch mentally preparing for the onslaught of what was sure to be one of the worst coming-down periods I’d ever inflicted upon myself.


So when I looked over and saw they had left me a pepperoni pizza , a half liter of Coca-Cola, and a half-ounce of pot just settling into a large bowl, I smiled.


I’ve always been a stoner, and, I’ve never been one to carelessly abandon perfectly abuse-able narcotics, which is why I’ve been mind-sickeningly-stoned for the last three days. Please consider this when interacting with me today, and, from the looks of it, the end of this week at best..