Small town drugs.

I live in a small suburban town. Small but cosy. Just kidding. My small-time town sucks elephant-balls. Anyway, the people around me, perform the act of inbreeding since like, forever. We are sons of ours. We are us. Living on a small island of a population smaller than a thousand we ended up fucking each other. So after studying our faces’ proportions and manners I concluded we are a mixture of Hillbillies, Nazis, Arabs, Communists, Europeans and donkey. Peasants love animals, what can you do! It is no wonder I feel like a schizophrenic multi-personality. Who said that?! Oh it was you. I don’t like you!!. Leave my body at once!

Anyway... Back in the day, (50 years ago) Cyprus was not even on the map and nobody knew anything about illegal drugs. They were just drugs. Period. I remember my grandmother telling me how they grew marijuana plants in their gardens, the size of their clay huts and how I had a boner hearing that story. Then she would slapped my ear with a shovel and I would bleed. S&M anyone?... GILF?...
She also told me, they used them for making paper, rope and tea to shut up their crying babies (aka: my mother). “Shoosh my little baby shoosh. Here, drink some of this opium tea and go to sleep for the next 48 hours so I can breast-feed your donkey… errr, I mean your little brother”. My mom was a stoner-baby. She cried, she got magic tea. I cry, I get a leather belt. Not fair.
Drugs are nutritious and you know it.

 

Here are some problems they had not because of drugs' vitamins:

- “Mooooommm, I have a toothache”
- Drink some of this shit honey. <WHAM> .
- “Groovy mom! I want to go to school and learn about stuff now. I love life and you especially. But most importantly, now that I am on drugs I will develop critical thinking and I won’t be an over consuming zombie like my would-be non-high self”

OR

- “Mommy my ear hurts”
- Let me blow some "magic" smoke on your eardrum little Jimi.
-“Wow mommy now I will have a musical ear forever and I will make you proud for using your surname… Mrs. Hendrix, …<happy giddying> ”

 

Our parents grew up on drugs, and now they bombard us daily with all these anti-drug campaigns and misinformation. It is wrong dad, just plain wrong.

Here's what I think: "Whatever dad! Shut up because YOU grew up chewing marijuana leaves!!!!....Yes, I know you have a wiggling tail growing from your armpit now but who cares? Next, you'll be telling me how drugs made me disoriented and how I can't even focus on the subject yellow is a colour sometimes in a basketball empty!"

I guess what I’m saying is: Drugs are in our blood and if they're not; THEY FUCKING SHOULD BE! Stop being pussies and give your kids some drugs like my badass ancestors did. I know I am.

Examples for the correct way to raise a child on drugs :

 

Dealing drugs to your kids is cool & all and it allows them to explore the wonders of the human mind and spirit. Also they shut up for days. No one can argue with the serenity of that image. It has, however, its potential hazards but only if you deal shitty quality. Be a good parent. Deal clean.

 

THE
END

 

PS #1 : I love drugs because they make my articles bursting from coherency and logic beans. Beans rock because they are like beams, which are solid and logic. Also beans are drugs and drugs are cool and hot.

PS #b : Why cool and hot are opposites but both mean good?

PS #4 : <secret massage> …oops! I meant message… what the hey, come over here, I will massage your vagina with my penis. Or your penis with my vagina; I have both and you have none. Ha!

 

back