The word is out that Stacy and I are an item. It doesn't matter that the word is Robert Plant's ugly lovechild's lie. The word automatically makes me a dealer by default. Can I get Darren Harvey an eighth? Of course I can. My sister is looking after the class gerbil. A few of its pellet-like droppings in one of those little plastic draw bags and I have a generous eighth of exotic to sell.
Darren Harvey wanted to smoke a joint when he came round to pick it up, but I told him my mum would be back soon and it was pretty strong smelling stuff. I advised him to eat a pellet instead.
"It doesn't taste so good, so try to swallow it whole" I said.
By the time we had listened to Fool's Gold 10.59 (12 inch) he was feeling very stoned.
"This is good shit" he beamed, showing a speck of brown on his teeth.
"I know."
I walked with him to the tube station, as I was going that way. He didn't tell me he was meeting Karen Plower there. They kissed passionately. Good for them.
I hope they got completely shitfaced.
Interesting little post there. Love the title by the way. And no, this has never happened to me. Drugs aren't really my thing.
ReplyDeleteWork for cupcakes? Cupcakes are like what, $2 each? Will you email me my cupcakes? Maybe best you email me my $2 and we've got ourselves a deal! lol. Per drawing that is. :) Muahahaha
ReplyDeleteDude....
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, I only do the good stuff...like rabbit dung and shit.
brilliant.
ReplyDelete