Wednesday, June 21, 2017


I quit smoking spliffs, and swearing!!!!

I know, I know...but I think it's going to work this time. We've all heard the saying "if I had a spliff for every time I tried to quit smoking spliffs, I'd be psyched, because I'd get a fuck-ton of free spliffs," and that CERTAINLY applies to me, but I think I've finally unlocked the cure(s).

It's hard work!!!

Let me tell you what I mean. Sit back, don't light up a spliff, and let me tell you an inspirational story:

Things were not going well. I was in a backyard at a party, leaning in an unnatural way, on nothing, when some crow-haired princess save-a-bro from Camas (barf) slank into my periphery and asked if I was “OK.”

“You look upset and you haven’t been talking” she said.

That "upset, quiet" come-on really stuck in my craw (because I WAS upset and quiet!), so I gave her a piece of it:
“Listen, Jezebel,” I said, “I’ve got bigger things on my mind than being upset and not talking right now. If you’re really so desperate for attention, buzz off to the toolshed and play 7 minutes in heaven with a black widow spider.” 
(I know, I know…but girls today are “enlightened” to the point of absurdity. They think “first base” is a friggin’ makeout sesh!)

"What?" said the girl.

"I said buzz off" I said, not swearing again.

"I wasn't talking to you" she said.  


"Sorry" I said. "I just quit smoking spliffs and swearing, and I'm cranky." I made a move to tip my hat, but it was too late. She was already deep into a conversation with the quiet guy behind me. (OR SHOULD I SAY "QUIET" GUY!!!!!) (To be fair, though, I'm not that quiet either.)

I went inside. There was a guy smoking a spliff out front, and I gave him $2 to hit it once on the way in. I think it might've actually just been a rollie. But when I got inside the house, I forgot all about my smoking spliffs and swearing and woman troubles, and understood why there were eleven people in there:  

There was a karaoke machine! (I didn't remember it having been there when I first got to the party, but I'm also not very observant, so it checks out.)  And the girl I'd just seen outside talking to the "quiet" guy was at the front of the room now, somehow, belting "Leaving Las Vegas" into the microphone like she was that loser drunk in the movie LEAVING LAS VEGAS!!

What in Sam Hill is going on here? I thought.

If you're wondering if this is an identical twin sister situation going on here, you're right. The girl drunkenly singing "Leaving Las Vegas" in the house was identical twin sisters with the girl drunkenly talking to the "quiet" guy outside. Isn't that crazy?

And on top of that, I'd written a parody of "Leaving Las Vegas" earlier that morning!! (The title, at least.) How's that for another coincidence? This night was turning into friggin' MAGNOLIA.

"I wrote a parody of this song " I said to the chuck taylor-wearing schlub standing next to me. I had to tell somebody.

"Huh" he said. At least,  that's what I think he said. The music was pretty loud.

"My version's called 'Wiener Dog's Anus' I said.  

This time, he didn't make any noise at all, I'm pretty sure.

"It's pretty funny if you actually picture it to the tune of the song" I said.

"JESSE!!!" yelled somebody from behind us, interrupting the song. I turned around, because MY name's Jesse, and saw that it was the girl from outside. And the spliff guy was with her! The girl wasn't yelling for me though, as it turns out. She was yelling for the girl who was singing--her twin sister, remember--who was apparently named "Jessie," the girl version. Jessie started yelling, because her song had been interrupted, and the girl rushed her and clocked her in the face.

"WOW!" I said.

"Shut up" said the spliff guy. I guess he didn't like the loud, positive ring my exclamation had to it. He tried to break up the fight that had broken out, and succeeded for the most part.

I thought everyone was going to start booing about that--who doesn't want to see identical twin sisters fight each other?--so I started booing. But of course, nobody booed. This party sucked.

"You have a fuckin' problem" said the spliff guy. He walked up really close to me and said "apologize to us right now." He was really aggressive, for a spliff guy. It was actually kind of scary.

Fortunately, though, I have a go-to move for these types of situations.

"LOOK, SOMEONE'S TAKING A SHIT ON THE SKYLIGHT!!!!" I said, pointing up at the roof. This house didn't have skylights, but the house doesn't have to have skylights for this trick to work. Everyone in the whole party looked up, and I ran away.

I ran all the way home, huffin' and puffin' like a running, huffy puffin. My lungs felt like guns, and my feet felt like skeet. But I made it home without incident.

My bed felt amazing. Now, I could laugh at all this.

"Whew! Fuck" I said.

And that's when I realized that not smoking spliffs or swearing was hard work.


  1. You've inspired me to update my blog more often. Thanks man. I'll try to match you week for week on Tuesdays or Wednesdays.

    1. Yes!!!! #EvergreenBlogGang, baby! We're taking over. (I'm trying to get Glasses Brandon to blog more, too.)

    2. What's his blog address? I'll check it out!


  2. Replies
    1. I think it started as a travel blog. Then as its popularity skyrocketed he made it more general.

    2. Ha! Yeah, wouldn't want too many people reading what you write!

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  4. This is a great story. Really feel like I learned a lot about the human condition.