Sharing Shirts

The other night I spent some Q.T. (quality time) with some Eastern Weed Brothers. For those of you that don,t know, an Eastern Weed Brother (EWB) is somebody from the east coast with a funny accent that really likes weed and is a boy. It was an enlightening experience. They all looked and smelled exactly how they should have.

I went over to some girl,s house because I heard a rumor that she was fat. It turns out she,s not really fat but it was still pretty. It was just her and two of my friends and seven or eight of the EWB. They were all wearing black shirts that were all in the process of fading to a rich, bleach spotty brown-gray. Many of them had pubic beards that sat low on their acne scarred chins and wore salt stained hats or beanies over their matted down, greasy locks. They all said the F word a whole lot.

Slim Whitman - The Very Best Of Slim Whitman
They were all masters of conversation and spoke on such topics as the crisis in Japan, film theory, music, and the pros and cons of smoking weed in a van. Many of them agreed that they should stop smoking cigarettes in their van because it smelled really bad in there. However, the thought of not smoking weed in the van was blasphemous. The discussion was never really finalized though because it was interrupted by one of the EWB asking, ,,Does anybody want to take a trip to space?,, while holding a small glass pipe in the air. He then announced that there would be a weed-based business meeting outside in a few minutes if any associates wanted to join him. Most everybody did.

To conclude such an intellectually stimulating evening, we all watched a horrible movie. The girl that lived there had a ton of movies. Unfortunately, many of them were duplicate copies of the 1993 Disney feature Hocus Pocus starring Bette Midler. The highlight of the night was when I accidentally touched her hand for a second when I was readjusting myself. That was the most physical contact I have had with anybody in months and will probably be the last for a long time to come. Even though she recoiled in horror at the touch of my cold, bony hand I was more than satisfied. She had fat hands.