The steaks have never been higher.
im thankful for
- my face
- the weed that goes in my face
- my lungs for fuckin wit me
- my brain for processing and distributing the weed amongst itself
- my hands for gettin the weed to my face
stoned alone was such a difficult thing to make and i don’t think anyone will ever be able to understand how hard it was and that’s a lonely way to live but nothing can be done I guess.
What does this even mean?
A few weeks ago, I was invited to contribute to The New York Times’ Room for Debate. The topic? “Facebook and narcissism.”
First, I’m extremely amused that I got “Don’t Hate the Player, Hate the Game" into the Times.
Second, with only ~300 words and the expectation that I’d be the guy…
i’ve always said nigger i will always say nigger i will never not say nigger