It's not about the drugs (although a nice fattie would help me unwind from a hectic day) it's the principle. This chick I'm seeing doesn't really care much for the marijuana so she called and did the, "I'm right down the street, can I stop by?" and I was forced to do a 5 minute clean up. Everything is either under my bed or in my closet and I clearly remember taking my stash from under my couch and going to my room with it.
I'll bet you dollars to donuts that it's in the heaping pile of clothes in my closet! Oh well, gotta call Stan my dope man and get another sack!
