Don’t like it?! Welll, SOUR GRAPES.
Duffle bag boys and girls,
its fred, on those superbly sour grapes (avoid lude thoughts, mind your manners).
monsieur zig-zag rip-wrapped around the contents of our clinic bag. a joint, hit the spot after a few mile run.
a sweet smelling, smooth smoking, sativa blend… i felt every muscle pulsating. it was intense, maybe not everybody’s bag… nevertheless, i found it enjoyable.
for a bit of relaxing,
Iq and I payed a visit to Casey Jones. Always the best kind of let down, I’m feeling the herbal mellow. Things are getting funnier. Music is hitting harder.
I’ve made the decision to leave the technical aspects to Iq. I need to do some drifting. I just realized something odd. Upon hitting the Casey Jones, my grammar and technical writing skills markedly improved.
… well LAA- DEE- DAA.
“Freddy, you want a weed peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
… uhm. i GOTTA go.





