The Sweet Sticky Icky

Today is April 20, 4/20, which means something to stoners. It’s some kind of grand New Year holiday. They get baked everyday at 4:20, which isn’t a big deal in the afternoon, but I guess these jackasses set their alarms for the a.m. session because there is no way in hell they’re up that early or that late. I know they’re not up that early because they’re losers who get up at the crack of noon at the earliest. I also know they’re not up that late because they’re losers that spend all day getting wasted. If we include indulging the munchies, watching television, figuring out who really killed MLK and why, and then forgetting it all takes a maximum of six hours, plus the two hours arguing with their mom about getting a job. Occasionally, maybe on the weekends they’ll mix in some hackeysack to stay fit. I’ve never understood the “reason for the season”. These guys don’t need an excuse to burn some hippy lettuce. I would look up the origin of the 4-20 thing but I feel it would make me dumber. Some things are better left unknown. Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not anti-ganja. I am anti-stoner, the dedicated pot smoker who sees it as a way of life and some kind of contribution to society. I think weed should be legal for a bunch of reasons. Regulating it and taxing it would solve a whole bunch of problems. It would reduce the burden on the legal and penal systems, saving billions of dollars a year while raising billions of dollars a year in brand new tax revenue. Game theory calls that a win-win. I just don’t want to hear about the textile or medical benefits of marijuana. At least not until I need a medical marijuana card. Y’all like gettin’ high. I’d respect the “movement” a lot more if it was sold as a freedom issue. I’m pretty sure getting stoned is the definition of the pursuit of happiness. The only reason I can think of for keeping weed illegal is patchouli oil. Just bathe, hippy. That’s why everyone hates you. You’re like mimes, if mimes stank and wouldn’t shut up. But now I’m starting to ramble like I was on something. What? Did you hear that? It’s the helicopters, man – whisper mode. I was reading this thing in High Times…wait, what? Did someone call the pizza guy yet?