Friday, December 24, 2010

I'm High As a Kite; I Just Might Stop To Check You Out.

Currently listening: Blister in the Sun- Violent Femmes.


(Click the picture for a pleasant surprise)

Happy Christmas Eve, to all you cross bearing Pagens.
Happy December 24th, to all my fellow Atheists/ anyone else who doesn't buy into that Christianity garb.
-B.

Just found my secret stash of Raisinettes.  Yes, those ones we got from the movie theater. I hid them. But found them. Just now.
-K.


Daaaaamn youuuu.
-B.

 What? That's so mean. I didn't hide them from you. Oh, and P.S. Both my parents keep screaming SANTA'S COMING... It's only me here with them. Honestly... I think they might believe in Santa....
Help,
-K.

What? They were delicious Raisinettes...
I'll be over in my Santa suit in ten.
-B.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Big Darn Deal


I sit here.
On the couch.
I begin to have a bonding, touching moment whilst watching a child choose her puppy
I make the viewer to TV connection
And......
I realize I am watching "Sandra Palin's Alaska" (wait... "Sarah Palin's Alaska")
And ya know what? I don't even care.

"Whether it be a football game, a BBQ, or dinner with yer wife. Do NOT drink and drive." - The Redneck DUI Worker on TV.


Today we went out in public. I will tell you my story before I let K tell hers, as my version is much better.
(If you haven't started reading this in a Charlie Brown tone of voice, I advise you to do so now.)
We had a mind blowing "out in public" adventure tonight. We went to (drumroll)... Wal-Mart.
We experienced true american culture whilst high, and we had the time of all times.

1. We quickly and slyly made our way to the electronics section, so not to be found out by the other Wal-Mart customers, picked out our item, and then made our way to the bathroom.
2. The bathroom is where I found the child seat of glory. As I was bantering with K about whether or not she could hold my phone while I peed, I saw it: the seat.
3. I finished out my wait in the bathroom on that seat, and I was sad to leave it. 

4. On the way home Twizzlers were eaten and rap was listened to.


Chef America is on and I am shockingly intrigued. I must go.
Until next time,
B.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Practicing being in public:
The art.
On a journey to Wal-mart (which is all the way across town, mind you), for an Ipod thing.
B wants to ride in the cart. After much consideration we decide against it.
Being high in public is an art.


Want peace? Try green.
I considered making this a draft, like editing before I blog these nights, but that isn't the spirit of this.

Was that two Michael J. Fox references in one album? This kid's brilliant!

I don't know what being a good writer means. This is the most objective I can be. About life, myself, my results, my actions, death.

Remembering lyrics is so much fucking easier when you're high.

*****To be fair, this is actually B. writing. K just gave me some notes, so I copied them for a combined post. Whatever though, I'll sign off like I'm her, I've already done my sign off.*****

- K.

You know you're a stoner if:

(dedicated to Tayler)

You know you're a stoner if:

As I'm deciding if my noticeably greasy hair looks better up or hidden by a beanie, "getting ready" for a night out consists mostly on preparing my on-the-go smoke kit.
Pinch hitter disguised as a cigarette. Check.
Just enough portion to match a couple bowls. Check. 
Mint container to cleverly contain that portion. Check.
Lighter of an eagle's head behind an American flag. Check.
All with their appropriate places for emergency stashing/dropping. 
I don't consider the heels I have on for tonight's outfit. I also trade my department store lacy top and crushed velvet blazer for a long sleeve t-shirt that reads "it's all good in the hood" around a picture of E.T. in a hoodie (one of my favorites).
There are a few reasons for tonight's wardrobe exchange. 
1. Stoners don't care much about other stoners' attire. It's all about the green.
2. You can't run in heels.
3. It's a really funny shirt.


You know you're a stoner when your routine for getting ready for the night is dictated by the circumstances that arise with smoking activities.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

This is what we do:

We get high.
And we then we talk about it. 

 
 We are college students avoiding essays. Making it through one more day. Selling back books for 10% of what we paid for them.
We are having the best times of our lives.
With a joint in hand.

Ask us anything:
About ourselves, stoner culture, marijuana curiosities, or random inquiries.