—for hands and I also used to and still do imagine that I am hanging out with Mozart, and I play him music so he can hear what’s become of it. He likes some things but mostly he listens,
one time it was when we would go in late to school for some kind of standardized test at like eleven and we had like twelve fucking people with us and we were all high as shit and we crowded into this booth at Double-T and we sit down, and there’s a pile of nuggs sitting there on the table and my friend Angela sitting across the table had a lemon wedge in front of her and I was like Angela I want your lemon and so she tossed it to me and I flicked it up in the air and it landed straight sliced onto the rim of her glass.
You’re fucking with me, that’s not real.
No I swear it’s one of those things that only happens when you’re that fucking high, like the other day me and Brian were up at Petsmart getting stuff for the kittens and we’re standing out front of the store finishing up our cigs before we go in and we see this guy come zooming into the parking lot on a fucking vespa, a powder blue scooter and he’s weaving in and out of all these cars and leaving fliers on their windshields, he almost hit his fucking head on a mirror, but he was doing alright like he didn’t hit anything. I turn to Brian and I’m like I bet you anything this guy’s about to come over here and start talking to us and sure enough here he comes zoom, zoom, zoom-zoom, rrrrrt, doink, right there in of us and dude’s clearly retarded in some way like he had the fucked up teeth and everything and he’s like hey guys how’s it going and pretty soon he’s off rambling about something I don’t even know I could not listen at all—
like if you were actually able to do that, shoot fire out of the end of your finger, what if it worked, what would you do?
I probably would light the fucking bowl.
Not even say anything, without skipping a beat, just hit it, obviously.
Probably wait to see if you guys noticed or not, make sure I’m not seeing things.
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