Sometimes I Fart, Sometimes Not

Are you one of those paranoid druggees? Are you always checking out the window to see if the cops are ready to bust down your door? Have you ever found a bug hidden in your taxidermy? I have to sweep and pet down all my muskrats before I feel safe enough to pull out my fifteen chamber nitro cooled brain-pounder gravity bong. But when I spark up that first bowl then its all worth it. My mind will laugh. I’ll chuckle and then smile as I inhale the mean fukin weed. Then I’ll rip through a couple more bowls and then put my dick through the cieling and wait for the hookers to sit on it. One of the only benefits of living under a brothel. There are a few more but I won’t get into them here. Sometimes Larry will come over with some angel dust and we’ll make a mushroom angel dust smoothee. Have you ever had your brain freeze on PCP? Mine freezes on arrival. When I’m blasting a nut my brain will actually stop working. I’ll sit there frozen with a strange face and then wildlife will turn around and give me a look of total unsatisfaction. A few times, actually more times than I’d like to admit, I will be sitting there with nut face until my dong wilts. Then I’ll moonwalk across the ceiling and hit the toilet for a piss. It will fork and I’ll be trying to shake the split out. And if I’ve had my daily dose of prune drops I will sit down for a grogan. Sometimes I fart, sometimes not. I’ll be staring at the door to the bathroom grinning. Maybe I’ll float a couple logs and get back into bed. Then I’ll almost instantly fall asleep and then the wildlife will hit the trough. I’ll wake up and all my alfalfa will be mowed to shit. Eventually I’ve learned that its not a good idea to leave exposed grains in your bedroom. I guess thats why they have root cellars.

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