So my parents just found out about my fourteen year old brother smoking weed because they found this on his window ledge. So in the middle of a huge lecture my dad decides to open the Baggie and smell it to see how strong it is. He immediately starts crying with laughter. THIS NIGGA HAS BEEN BUYING AND SMOKING FUCKING OREGANO. FUCKIN ITALIAN HERBS. SON. I CAN’T. I CANNOT. I CAN’T DO THIS.
This isn’t funny. That’s the gateway drug to a full blown marinara addiction. It’s good this was caught before this kid started hanging out at Olive Garden and sucking on every breadstick he can find to score another hit.
IT GOT BETTER.
So, my college roommate, the year before I met him, had a different roommate, who had a spider plant, and what with college kids being easily amused, they ended up with this selection of hanging pots around their dorm room and this massive sprawling plant, and then it died and they preserved it. So they had maybe a 15’ or so long dried-out dead spider plant. And one day, some people were going around asking everyone for drugs, and they saw the plant, and asked whether it was pot, and were told “no, that’s a spider plant”. And they said “can we have it anyway?”
Well, I mean, who’s gonna say no to a potential story opener like that? So of course, they were given the long-dead spider plant.
Next day, they show up, and they start complaining about how the free dead spider plant that they were told was not any kind of drugs was awful. Smelled horrible, tasted horrible, didn’t give them a buzz at all. “So, have you got any more?”
Folks, these people would have graduated from college in the late 80s. They’re in their 40s now. They probably have jobs. They could be in public office or something.