Marijuana, My busy schedule, Pork
Damn Christian Ethics. For the past few months, the ongoing mental battle of the morality of infrequent, music-based pot use has continued to rage in my consciousness. The blistering heat of the cannon-fire has left my mind a smouldering wreck of indecisiveness. Hell, I've never played guitar better than once I've smoked up a little.
It doesn't hurt anyone
Well shit, neither does shooting myself in the head with a pneumatic nail gun. "Don't damage yer body." I'm still alive, no? I'm sure as hell not addicted to it, as the last time I've done it has been several months ago. I'm quite unlikely to come up with a solution soon; hell, I give up for today.
Woke up; prison for a few hours. Wander around the courtyard for a few minutes; Aah, my girlfriend. A nice juxtaposition, no? Walked around town for a while; some freak in a green suit playing a guitar-like instrument that needs to be wound-up before playing.. what the hell is it? came home. E2. peace: finally.
Ever noticed the duality of pork? Either it tastes absolutely fantastic, or it forms into a barely cohesive and tasteless blob of meat-fibers. Can't go wrong with bacon, but I've seen many a pork chop ruined by overcooking, leaving a dry, stringy mess. Oh, what the hell? Isn't this true with all foods? Someone shoot me for my pointless chatter.