Vices and Whatnot.
I realized that I talk about drinking quite a bit on The Blog. Much like Guinness Girl, I would definitely not consider myself an alcoholic (I’m sure I would flunk the test) (Flunk in a good way, of course.). But considering the present highly chaotic circumstances of my life these days, I say I’m entitled to an extra wee nip every now and again. (That’s probably what Betty Ford said. But anyway).
I wasn’t always a drinker. No, yours truly was an expert in all things cannibas-related for quite a few years. Not that I was a pothead mind you. I was able to be productive in my jobs, I brushed my hair, never burned incense (yuck!) and was pretty much a fully functioning member of society. I never was into the The Dead shtick. Touch of Grey was it. (And that doesn’t even count, I know.) Eventually, I stopped smoking weed because it made me paranoid and anxious as I got older. But ah, the days of yore. Funny stuff.
You, Oy Vey? Little Miss Lipstick? You smoked? Lots of it? For years? You – the one who likes toile, wears a pink Burberry scarf and dotes on kittens? Indeed. People are often surprised about this little factoid. This girl not only can roll a beautiful j, but she puts filters in them (Fancy, I know. It's the Martha in me. Thank you, Brazilian boyfriend of friend’s roommate.)
Back in college, there was this bodega called Living Healthy where those in the know used to buy dimebags. You walked into this shell of a store that had nothing on the shelves except for a few boxes of tampons, some second rate chips and a Snapple case. You grabbed a Snapple, walked up to the bulletproof window, slid $21 to the guy, who, if you weren’t a regular, would say, “What’s this for?” to which you’d reply “I’m cool, dude.” And he would slip you a dimebag. And off you went. Living Healthy did eventually get busted, but it was up and running the entire time I was in school.
They say New York is the Capital of Convenience. I used a delivery service for a few years called Dr. P. Haze. He even had business cards. You’d call up, leave a code number and someone would call you back and say “This is Peter Hayes...” (“I’m cool, dude.”) and give you an ETA. Such service! It was a very professional operation: They were closed on Sundays, had special hours during the Holidays, and offered a Buy Six Get One Free! Deal which was damn hard to beat.
Dare I say it's easier to buy weed in Philly than alcohol? Seriously. The weed guy’s open on Sundays and Federal holidays. I've noticed that the stuff is quite popular and pretty easy to find here. But alas, I'm stickin' to the bottle these days. Just can't handle my hooch.
I’m not about to spout any political opinions about this subject. I think y’all can probably guess how this Uberlefty feels about vice crimes. Those were the days.
I wasn’t always a drinker. No, yours truly was an expert in all things cannibas-related for quite a few years. Not that I was a pothead mind you. I was able to be productive in my jobs, I brushed my hair, never burned incense (yuck!) and was pretty much a fully functioning member of society. I never was into the The Dead shtick. Touch of Grey was it. (And that doesn’t even count, I know.) Eventually, I stopped smoking weed because it made me paranoid and anxious as I got older. But ah, the days of yore. Funny stuff.
You, Oy Vey? Little Miss Lipstick? You smoked? Lots of it? For years? You – the one who likes toile, wears a pink Burberry scarf and dotes on kittens? Indeed. People are often surprised about this little factoid. This girl not only can roll a beautiful j, but she puts filters in them (Fancy, I know. It's the Martha in me. Thank you, Brazilian boyfriend of friend’s roommate.)
Back in college, there was this bodega called Living Healthy where those in the know used to buy dimebags. You walked into this shell of a store that had nothing on the shelves except for a few boxes of tampons, some second rate chips and a Snapple case. You grabbed a Snapple, walked up to the bulletproof window, slid $21 to the guy, who, if you weren’t a regular, would say, “What’s this for?” to which you’d reply “I’m cool, dude.” And he would slip you a dimebag. And off you went. Living Healthy did eventually get busted, but it was up and running the entire time I was in school.
They say New York is the Capital of Convenience. I used a delivery service for a few years called Dr. P. Haze. He even had business cards. You’d call up, leave a code number and someone would call you back and say “This is Peter Hayes...” (“I’m cool, dude.”) and give you an ETA. Such service! It was a very professional operation: They were closed on Sundays, had special hours during the Holidays, and offered a Buy Six Get One Free! Deal which was damn hard to beat.
Dare I say it's easier to buy weed in Philly than alcohol? Seriously. The weed guy’s open on Sundays and Federal holidays. I've noticed that the stuff is quite popular and pretty easy to find here. But alas, I'm stickin' to the bottle these days. Just can't handle my hooch.
I’m not about to spout any political opinions about this subject. I think y’all can probably guess how this Uberlefty feels about vice crimes. Those were the days.
posted by Oy Vey at 1:41 PM
7 Comments:
This was awesome.
I think that no Presidential candidate, ever again, will be asked the pot question, as we're turning into a country of, "Yeah. Tried it. Liked it, but not enough to quit my day job and stop showering. Eventually it just wan't that fun anymore. So who the fuck cares?"
Ha! I loved this one, OV. (I almost called you by your real name! Yeesh). Speaking of the wee nip, when shall we partake again? Soon, pretty please?
Whinger, I would LOVE it if a presidential candidate responded with your line!!!
GG: AS SOON AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.
Post-work tomorrow? I can't stay out terribly late, as must clean the sty before Mom arrives on Thursday - but drinkies until 8-ish would be loverly.
sounds "lovely"!
What musical is that? "Woooouldn't it be loverly?"
My Fair Lady?
And why am I communicating with you via comments and not email? WTF?
I think we need to find a new bar locale. Ooh! Wanna come to the Yunk? Flat Rock has TONS of beers. I could go home, clean a bit, then go out for beers, then go home and clean more...
Living Healthy... ha, that's awesome! Oh, the irony. I'm sure I would've botched that process and somehow found myself walking out with only a $20 Snapple. Amen to whinger... I've never heard it put quite so succintly before!
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