I've been smoking for over three hours now, and I can hardly type because I'm laughing so hard at myself for doing some stupid shit. Get this: I'm stoned like Stephen in my big spongy awesome TV watching chair and this anti-drug commercial comes on. In it, a teenager is smoking pot, while her much younger sibling peeks through the door as the narrator proclaims, "It hurts more than just you."
Well, after seeing that creepy child spy on his sister, I became a bit concerned about the state of my doorways. All clear of creepers? I had to check. I walked all around my condo, through an entire episode of Harvey Birdman, just checking to see that no impressionable youth is near when I'm smokin' fat funky bowls 24/7. Yeah.
Now, I'm listening to T.I. and thinking about the chronic that he smokes, wishing I had it in the jar of babies. *sigh*
In 5 easy steps
1 hour ago
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