I scraped a joint off my coffee table, hows that? I'm not sure what that says more about my house cleaning, or my dope smoking, or me? Nah, Tom came over last night with his pot bag.
And now I'm off to Tim and Nicholas' to smoke bongs. Great, mate.
And later, there will be the midnight stumble back up George Street to home. Ah, that mindless, late night stumble back up George Street, I can now do it with my eyes closed. Ha, ha. It is just one foot in front of the other, again, and again, and again, and again…
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