all this effort and struggle just to find out that my car is fuckiung freaking out, and wants to sputter and putter and embarass it's owner. WTF?!
but i guess that's the way it is when you drive your shit over 30,000 miles a year, for the last 5 years...
hoses, and belts and wires and circuits... they don't stay dope forever. right?
so i'm carless and i stranded at dealer McDope's house until i decide to walk back home and be stranded over there.
maybe i'll ride my bike to gardena and pick up my paycheck...
i have a fat bag of the kush fronted to me, and there's going to be money pouring out my ass JUST AS SOON as i can get to a bank...
i showed my mom my tattoo today, i said, "so yah, i got a tattoo." and she said, "finally?" and i said, "what do you mean finally?" and she said, "you've always talked about it..." and i said, "well then yeah, finally." and i rolled up my sleeve, and she said, "oh shit, that's huge! hurt much?" and i said, "a little." and that was that.
McDope needs his G4 back, and i don't understand Macs so i am off to get vapoized by the vaporizor. when in doubt, be stoned. because it makes being in doubt more better.
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