Smokin’: Alcohol good, weed better

Look, I see where you’re coming from, I guess. There are definitely positives to drinking, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had plenty of drunken good times, and I’ll down a Tom Collins anytime you’ve got one to spare. It’s just that I’d rather chill out with my friends, smoke a bowl and maybe order a pizza or watch a movie or something. Can’t you see the appeal in that?

Dude, hear me out. First of all, would you rather be, like, puking your guts out in the gutter tomorrow or maybe feel a little burnt out? If you say the puking, I know you’re lying, you drunk bastard. Also, sometimes I like to drive around and shit, which is out of the question when you’re drinking. The negatives just outweigh the positives, period.

OK, I admit that weed and girls don’t exactly go together, unless you know one of those cool girls who just likes to chill. But I’m looking for something more meaningful. I’m looking for a chick who can appreciate watching “The Wizard of Oz” while listening to Dark Side of the Moon, and who doesn’t just take a bunch of shots and pass out. Alcohol is mindless euphoria. Marijuana makes you see things in a fucked-up way.

The long-term effects of alcohol abuse fucking blow. Thirty years from now, you’re going to be some writer living in a shotgun shack, passing each day in an alcoholic haze as you attempt to dull the pain of existence. Me? I’m going to be a wizened old man with a corncob pipe, dispensing advice to young jam band fans.

I don’t usually do this, but I’m going to give you an example of what I’m talking about. The other night Dave, Tommy and I were going to go to a bar because we couldn’t think of anything else to do. Tommy’s like, “Dude, don’t we still have a couple of grams left from like two or three nights ago?”

I was like, “No, dude, we smoked all that shit,” and we all started laughing because we had smoked a shitload that night.

So then Dave’s like “Not all of it,” and he pulls out the bag, and sure enough there was still enough left to get us all high. We ended up listening to some Pink Floyd I’d never heard before and taking a walk to the Lincoln Memorial. It reminded me how fucking good Lincoln’s speeches are, especially when you’re stoned. Now, if I had been drunk, I probably would have just climbed on Lincoln’s lap and gained no enlightenment at all.

In conclusion, weed rules and alcohol drools. Now, let’s go smoke a bowl.

-The writer, a sophomore double majoring in the cannabis arts and Highstory, is a direct descendant of Jah Rastafari.

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