Pot is bad, man
Pot is bad, man. It....really.....sloooowwwsss you down. When someone is high they can't think fast enough to be containers for conversation. You probably can tell a stoner by their eyes red like they've been crying but they don't smell like chlorine either, they smell like pine and they tend to say "whaatt?" a lot, as if it's in style to be stupid. You'll also notice that potheads do everything slower, forget where they are and what they are trying to accomplish, or what kitchen utensil they are looking for, while the stove is burning and the kitchen mitt is catching fire. And the worst part is that all this idiocy becomes a big joke, something to laugh at in the morning when they're sipping coffee brought by compassionate neighbors on the cold street as flashes of light make circles around the dawn sky unveiling itself, as if the initial "where am I" joke provides some kind of excuse for BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE!, Talking Heads style.
Setting fires, though, is one thing potheads are really good at. You gotta give em that. Hands down, they get the gold, well, on second thought, there are always those pyromaniacle children you read about or see on Lifetime. Anyway, setting fires might be the thing they excel at most, with sleeping as a close second. Try waking up a stoner with anything but burning grass if you don't believe me.
The other thing though that is really bad about pot that dopee clowns don't even realize is its effect on the, ummmmm, brain's neurotransmitters, I think. Anyway, the THC in pot, that by the, according to my friend MAGOO, has increased like 40-fold since the seventies, thanks to science and greedy marijuana enthusiasts, which for sure has made for an even dumber army of "whaaaatttt"sayers, is burned and sent through the lungs into the bloodstream then into the organs and brain where it clamps onto cannabanoid receptors on nerve cells. Some people have more cannabinoid recpetors than others, and can be more affected than the guy across from then in the "cypher." That means that unlucky fellow might start to get real nervous, his heart will beat realllll fast, and his coordination will get all screwy and his limbs and fingers will shake violently like he has some death virus. This guy probably won't remember real well one moment's happenings to the next, he'll most likely get real paranoid too and think the people around him are laughing like satan admirers, and he'll want to pick up his limbs and run the hell out of there but he doesn't know how and even if he did it wouldn't be right, he'd have to sit down, then get up, over and over again. And the other thing about these receptors is that they effect dopamine levels, which is the brain's way of rating how delicious that slice of mushroom and pepper pizza was last night, hmmm hmmm. Dopamine allows the brain to compare experiences, and is released in high amounts to make the sensation of pleasure when the taste of that pizza from last night exceeds expectation. So if someone who usually smokes a lot of weed can't connect with the dealer, and they try to eat that same slice the next day, that is if they didn't already scarf down the two in thirty seconds the night before, their expectations will not be met and the dopamine signal will not be broadcasted, resulting in a violent stoner with foam bubbling out of the mouth.
And last of all Pot is bad cause...hold on a second....awwww man! What a mischievous terrier! Rufus ate my last slice! Now I'm all bummed out and stuff and forgot what the last thing was that I was going to tell you. Rufus is my dog, who kinda reminds me of a pothead, cause he's always acting like one when he sleeps all day, wakes up realll slow, thinks only about eating, defecates then starts kicking grass all over it like that's supposed to excuse him, pees in public, no shame, especially on fire hydrants, chases cars like a dumbass trying to get killed, chases squirrels and runs smack into the tree they ran up. But he is most similar to potheads because he smells like he hasn't bathed in a month, actually I should probably wash him it's prolly been longer than that ha! He also, like stoners will, takes all time and prolly would do it all day to smell the roses, and I have to whine "ROOOOF-USSSS, let's GOOO-Ahhh" in a high-pitched voice like a valley girl who can't get the size of the shoes she wanted from Nordstroms, cause I want to get back in time to watch Little Britain, which is a hysterical masterpiece. But then Rufus looks at you with these real sad puppy eyes, even though he's prolly fakin it cause he's already 10, like he just did when I yelled at him for eating my last slice, you know those eyes, real innocent and naive like a potheads when you get frustrated with their lack of responsibility. And you have to feel bad for him and those potheads cause "they know not what they do," I think Copernicus or some other bearded loony said that.
So according to MAGOO's calculations, a pothead now will go braindead like 20 times faster than they would have in the seventies, so pretty soon we'll have an army of Rufus's running around, peeing everywhere, drinking out of the toilet, never lifting a paw for any chores....MOTHER OF MERCY! RUFUS! DID YOU EAT MY CHOCOLATE SOUFFLE TOO!? No, this isn't happening. BAD DOG! BAD DOG! GET IN THE CAGE! Aww, who am I kidding, I can't yell at you, you're so intensely cute, I'm sorry, come here boy, let me scratch your ears. Where was I? Oh S–T, gotta go, Little Britain is on.
Front Page (October 3, 2005)
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