YaWow

[Socks]

First of all. Sup Niggaz. I've missed everyone bagging and dropping all over the place and now I feel like a jolly ol' Santa. Earlier, my friend was bummed out as he does not have a car now, so he had to take the bus home. I thought about it, and it is cold and stuff, I can't give him a ride because I use an entirely different bridge. Plus I'm stopping off after. I always let him smoke with me because he is chill. And last night he game me a twenty because I have smoked him out for a couple of weeks. I do not accept money for weed, when sharing among friends. It is not a commodity. It is an experience. Would you charge your friends for a smile, or a laugh? I hope not. But he insisted and I took it anyway.  So when I saw that he was puffing a cigarette warming up, and I told him that I could not give him much, but I had a blunt and a one hitter, asked him which one he wanted to keep. Took the one hitter, and some weed that I gave him. So that made me feel good. But my party ended early and I hustled them for some drinks, two red wines, to be exact. A delicious Montepulciano something something Abruzzio. Shit tastes good. I was at the dealers house and I packed his bowl, for this ill ass bong, glass is 9mm thick, and at least two feat long, with all sorts of attachments and pieces, littles dimples and folds, bends and holes. Kind of erotic actually. And for this I filled it up from my stash, equally and with love, because this lucky little fellow who sells me weed, was granted a bottle of this wine to drink and or celebrate with. This too, made me feel good, somewhat. Then I was listening to a solid tune by George Michaels called gotta have faith, as I peaked and in the climax of the song, the annoucer stepped in, and said 'We sound like a thousand Smackaroos! And nobody uses smackaroos anymore. That's not to confuse them with dollars.' He is the spokesman for this radio channel. He was Elaine's boss on Seinfeld. I saw a cop drive on in front of me. I rushed up an pulled up to him, then variating between five and ten above, I overtook and passed him, signal and everything. That is what they want to see, a nice and responsive little puppy, who can brake and signal and accelerate, not someone who cowers and shies away, those are either cowards or thieves. A true man is dumb and stupid. At least in the moment. So I drove a few paces, and the this little puppy wagged nice and fine and crossed over the lane and proceeded to the toll booth. There I gave the attendant his two dollars and my blunt. He looked stunned and I said if he wanted a hit. He was playing Hip Hop gangster music. I mean come on man what is he going to do to me? I whispered not to be involved in trouble, and drive away. But you don't have to worry, because this never happened. It is what I wished to say, but I made it all up. How I got that blunt however, is that I was in drive through. and from drive in I was cracking, by ordering emptying guts into small bag, and by paying I was filling--for I had some shake--and with a strategic spit or two, it was rolled and ready to go with my food. Which was really some crap. But I paid for it anyway. It was a good day. Made a shit ton of money. Now I am dressed in my undies and everything seems funny, dark and inviting.