Bong bong bong bong bong.
Though, if I smoked with him, knowing me, I'd probably tell him that he used to creep me out a lot and I didn't give one shit about the Olympics, and we'd laugh. Then he'd gently place my head between his thumb and his pointer finger, squeeze firmly, and my brains would splatter about the room.
4 comments:
He didn't use to creep me out.
He still does.
Even on weed.
I don't get why he is creepy!
His 15 minutes is over. It won't be long before he's hocking his gold metals at a pawn shop so he can buy more weed.
hahahahaha
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