I'm on holidays. Me and Tom are going up north chasing the sun, in a week, or thereabouts. So, I decided that I should relax my non-dope smoking vow - I'm on fucking holidays, after all. And wouldn't you know it, my dealer is off the air. Fuck! There should be a law against it! I thought we lived in a free-trade world. The only other dealer, I know, is Rob, with his new car every time I see him, but he does that creepy, if you have sex with me you don't have to pay and that just gives me a chill and is awkward, so I'm not going to try him.
Grrr!
Of course, children, if you are reading this, drugs are bad, naturally. Just say no. You don't want the scary man down the road touching you there. Blah, blah, blah... And if you believe that, I have some lovely beach side property in Central Australia which you might be interested in...
Question your parents about it kids, next time they are emptying their third bottle of chardy.
No comments:
Post a Comment