Speaking of Pot stories, I finally have one to share.
My friend's friend's boyfriend left a bag of weed out all night and their brand new puppy purebred lap dog mop ate a hundred dollars worth - which was apparently a lot.
My friend's friend found her dog curled up under their bed in a coma,
so she rushed it to the vet. Told the vet EXACTLY what happened.
The vet saved the dog... it turned out to be ok.
Of course afterwards it was really cuddly and it had a massive craving for Beggin Strips because Everyone Loves Bacon - especially permanently stoned dogs...
but the thing is, when the vet brought the dog with the munchies back to her, he said:
"You'd be surprised how often this happens..."
and sent her on her way with just a rather large vet bill.
No cops, no ASPCA, no nothin...
and this is a regular occurance?
"Hi, I left my heroin out all night and now my Chihuahua is doing a real good William Burrough's impersonation..."
Go figure.
�
Last night I went to another benefit, christ I'm Mr. Charity lately... but last night I actually did something besides hand over my money, I performed in a benefit for the AIDS Foundation of South Africa.
The organization is mostly focusing on getting South Africa some help, and the money I helped to bring in probably would buy a month's worth of medication for a single person over there, but hey, every little bit helps - right? Sure.
Oh, and I hear I was on the news for it later that night.
Fox 64 Ten O'clock News.
Me.
15 seconds of my voice and my tall lanky dorky body.
Yelling whispering and screaming a poem describing a lot of the evils old white men in power have done through out time.
Gesturing and waving and motioning with my arms and body.
2 people in my office saw the segment.
There's 100 people here.
25 of them have come up to me today and asked me about it.
Gossip much?
I don't really care so much, it's just that I know one day I'll be at the office Christmas party and one of the managers will get drunk enough to demand I stand on a table and kick a performance poem... and I'll be just drunk enough to do it and I'll belt out one of my pieces that rants about how evil corporate America can be and I'll come in to work the next day to find boxes in my cube and a security guard with a roll of tape and a sign in his hand that says:
Kick johnpowers out.
Now!
That's why.
�
My only plans tonight are to try and beat my friend Chris at cribbage again. I won for the first time last night after the benefit.
Hey, if my life were exciting every day instead of once a month, even the excitement would get boring... and then where would I be?
Wow, that made no sense.
