
The Lament of The Self-Loathing Stoner
The dishes are stacked in the sink. The dog needs to go out. The trash is piling up. The laundry has to be put in the dryer. All because you smoke too much pot.
The dishes are stacked in the sink. The dog needs to go out. The trash is piling up. The laundry has to be put in the dryer. All because you smoke too much pot.
For many years, I was God’s Own Stoner. Marijuana flat-out cured me of a near-fatal alcoholism when I was thirty, and it became a convenient
I have a small Christmas tradition. I don’t drive and dragging the presents home each year is aways an issue, so I shop throughout the
Part III: “Rosa Parks” (continued from Part II) Keith and I were like a couple of giddy school boys who just got out of the
Part II: Breakfast… (continued from Part I) I distinctly remember feeling relaxed and unintimidated as the young cop led us into a large yellow tent
I. When I was twenty-four years old I had the great fortune to marry my best friend. If you find that kind of love once
On Saturday morning, September 15, 2007, I left my wife and our 10-year old daughter at the Parker House hotel to help set up the
The guy who sells me weed is a very smart dude, and when I told him that I had to take a drug test at
When my wife and I were going to have a baby each moment was savored. Okay, maybe not the morning sickness and the mood swings,
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