I was visiting my friend V-PL and I slept one night over there on the floor. There were also some others including my brother and some members of Cypress Hill. Before going to sleep we decided to smoke some dope. V-PL refused to smoke and it seemed like he didn't like the idea but however, he didn't say anything.

Cypress Hill had their own dope and my brother started to roll joints. He found the flowers from my huge ice hockey bag which was full of my clothes. Whether it was he being nervous, just clumsy or already high, he made a complete mess out of it. When the joints were ready, there was a huge pile of ash in my bag. I was a bit angry with him messing my clothes but already bit stoned, there was too much effort to say anything..

Smoking, we head at a gig. There was some punk band playing and as we walked towards the place I asked "where Real B was." Cypress Hill's DJ clearly noticed my misspelling of the name but he didn't bother to correct me. He said that he was already at the place where the gig was supposed to be. Aye, we were already close there and I saw B Real going in..

It is the corniest proposal I have ever heard, sung in rhyming verse while his cast members look on and smile. Half unsure that this is for real, I take my chances and sneak into the theater's back entrance to where he leans at the helm of his ship.

You would think once I was there he'd shut up, but he keeps going, reading poor heartfelt lyrics from a ragged paper. Also I am wondering whyever I decided to marry a theater boy.

Here is the other thing: It is hard to kiss him, his lips are dry and stiff. Well, I think, if I just accepted his marriage proposal I must be familiar with this chap. Likely I knew about the kissing problem before I said Yes. And then I am thinking, Oh Shit. How can I take him home to Mother?

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