Son of a bitch. I knew I lived in my own little slice of backwards agricultural America, but fuck me runnin' man.
I'm strolling down the sidewalk near my local bad park in the shitty neighborhood, or so it says on my school zoning pamphlet, and i'm trying to score a dub sack. Nothing special, just a couple grams in the evening to keep the rational thoughts away until my usual cannabis service provider finishes his shift at KFC. I see a dude who i can see is smoking, exactly what i'm not sure of. I stroll by, non threatening. When i get up close i see he's deeply engaged in chasing an oxy tab around a scquare of reynold's wrap. when he stops for a conniption between hits i ask if he knows where i can get a bag. This fool just looks me dead in the eye and says, "what do i look like, A fucking pot head?"
He tells me to fuck off and leave him alone. Apparently the last guy fucked off, but stuck around.
so let's recap. dude in a pinch asks the dope fiend if he knows where one can procure his own set of drugs, Dope fiend is disgusted with stoner in his choice of narcotic. Apparently only cave men smoke weed when we have a vast variety of prescription drugs available. This story doesn't have a point, i just wonder if anyone else out there sees what i'm getting at here.
oh well, i got my blunt. fuck it.
here's to you ya oxymoron. wherever you are tonight. fucking dick.
