Marijuana: An Evil bitch of a Mutha, The Movie

I'm sorry, it's not a movie, I just feel the need to be more grandiose in the title of these gay ass blog-sickles. Not to say I wouldn't see this film if it were real... put a Kurt Rambis looking main character in there, and say like a cool, good actress like Catherine Keener and you've got yourself a winner. I don't know though, we probably need some kinda trippy dream sequence where Kurt's character is fighting a bunch of criminal's in his old house he was born in.... but it's not really the house and he's kind of in the air above it... and the criminals are actually random people he went to high school with... but they are made of chocalate... and even though his fists don't work and he can't scream, he can just eat them. Yeah, now we're talking! That being said, I was sitting around last night watching TV and kinda wishing I had some pot. But, ultimately I'm glad I didn't because as much as I think I'd like some, I remind myself why I stopped to begin with, It makes me super paranoid. Not paranoid like I think people are coming to get me, but I get in my own head about random crazy bullshit. Like maybe something I said in a conversation like a week ago, I'll be like, "Should I call them and apologize"? Then I'll be like, "No, that would be wierd". Then I'll be like, "Fuck! I hope no one calls me right now, because they'd think I was wierd". Then the phone would ring and I'll be like, "Fuck! This IS wierd". Then the phone goes to voicemail and I'm like, "Fuck, it's weird that I didn't answer". Then I'l be like, "I'm just gonna eat these Cheetos and go to sleep." So in closing, I decided it was good that I didn't have any pot last night. bye!