Pass the doobie to the left-hand side

Do permafried people know they are brain-dead idiots?

Last night I ended up hanging out with two cronic pot smokers at the Keg Room. Let’s call one Mike and the other Ryan, because those are their names.

Anyway, they’re both decent guys. I didn’t have a problem with them. I whopped them at pool, running the table for eight straight games. Yippy.

Anyway, you can just tell when a person has smoked too much weed in one’s life.

They tell the stupidest stories, which usually begin with “I was so fucked up.”

They can’t remember anything at all. Mike couldn’t remember he was in the middle of a game of pool.

The other one assumed the game was over, and racked again.

I didn’t care because it takes too long to explain things to these people.

Idiots!

P.S. My goal today is to outpost Joel. You're going down bitch!