-- This morning I woke up and felt like a doophus. I know it's surprising
(It's also kind of a shock to see the word "doophus", huh?).
I had a weekend of excess, and I feel like shit, both physically and b/c
I wasted so much goddamn money. Went to a sorry strip club and wasted
lots of money b/c I heard it was a good place, even though my eyes
told me otherwise. Bought some bud from Drug Dealer John, and then
on Sunday I bought a new bong. OK, maybe the bud and the bong shouldn't
seem like a waste of money. But, I dunno, I don't feel like I got
anything to show for it, y'know?
On Sunday when I went to buy the bong, it was actually a really great store. "The Toke Shop" is what the building sign said. It had tons of bongs, shirts, books, back issues of High Times, and other cool smoke-related shit. And lots of porn. I didn't buy any, amazingly, but it was a great supply of good, cheap porn. Also had two-headed dildos and vibrating vaginas. Hey, how come guys aren't into vibrating vaginas? Women are so into vibrators, but guys, who are supposedly that much hornier, are just content with their hand and a Playboy. We don't appreciate the finer things in life, I guess...
But yeah, I bought another bong. It's glass, long and skinny, and pretty phallic. It's got a cool grip though that fit my hand perfectly when I grabbed it, which is what sold me on it. I was set to buy a Buddha Bong -- it was a Buddha that had a big chamber where his stomach is. It would have been hard to drag around, though, since I'm supposed to toke up outside the house, so I ixnayed that idea. It still would have been really cool, though. Smokin' buddha out of a Buddha....
Yeah, that was the best store ever. All these pigeons congregated to the store's sign, too, which was weird. There weren't any other pigeons in sight in this little strip mall, but like eight of them were congregating on the "The Toke Shop" sign above the door. Must be weird to live in a community where the "Toke Shop" is right around the corner. When I was a kid, all I had in my local strip mall was a convenience store and a dry cleaners. And all that porn made my eyes light up. Wow, I haven't actually rented a porn in...years. Hey, I'm kind of proud of that, come to think of it.
Suffice it to say, I smoked up right after I got my new bong (during half-time of the Laker game), and for the rest of the day. I ate too much, naturally. I smoked Drug Dealer John's good shit Saturday night, and was laughing uncontrollably for the rest of my waking hours. It's the fucking bomb. Sunday was the shit when we found about 1/16 of an ounce of that Das had wanted to give to his cousin, but that his cousin didn't want. So we used that shit in the bong. Ray was around, and he kept saying that I'm Beavis when I smoke up. I freak out pretty easily and get all excited about weird shit. Ray couldn't believe that I told the girl behind the counter at the Toke Shop that my old glass bong was fine until my parents took it away.
On Sunday, I saw the freakiest shit when I was stoned at the local yogurt shop. I was waiting behind this mom and her four-year old daughter to order. They were taking their time, and I was gazing up at the menus on the wall, trying to figure out how to order, and if I wanted a cone or a cup. I then looked down and saw the mom and her kid communicating in sign language. So I figure the kid's deaf, right? The kid, this tiny little red-headed girl, then pokes her head up over the counter and starts to order for herself and her mom. The fucking mom was deaf, and needed her kid to communicate. That freaked the shit out of me, if you can imagine. Fuck, when I was four, I made my mom run around for me to buy Star Wars action figures. No way could I order shit for myself, let alone her.
Albutt is really dumb when he gets stoned. He kept asking me all these questions that he should have known the answers to. He doesn't know anything about Arena Football <-- can you believe that?
Oh, before we stopped by John's place on Saturday night, I saw the Dodger-Cardinal game with Das and some coworkers. Had a nice little chat with one of the secretaries. The undeniable highlight came in the 8th inning, right when Das and I were leaving. We decided to stick around for Mark McGwire's last at bat. Mutherfucker launched one out of the park. He's only the third player to ever do that at Dodger Stadium. (Little known fact -- Willie Stargell and Mike Piazza were the first two). Dood, I don't care if he's losing his hair and has testicles the size of dimes -- I would take steroids if I could jack a ball that far.
Das and Paul and Ray are going up north this weekend to visit James and Winston. I'd see if I could invite myself along, but I'm probably gonna chill with Maya and Jenny. Not much time left to see Maya before she splits. Plus, I feel like crap after wasting so much money and time on strippers and weed, that I feel I should redeem myself by hanging out with Maya. She's a helluva lot more positive to chill with, that's for damn sure. Plus, mebbe I'll go car shopping! My new plan is to call my moms tonite and just flat out ask for some money, rather than finding a car, telling my mom to send me money, and then going back to get the car. The latter plan is a big hassle, which is probably why I haven't been more enthused about car shopping. Yeah, I'd love to go up north, but I got more pressing responsibilities down here.
Wow, I'm being responsible, or at least planning on it. Who'da thunk it?