generic_hippie
Member
"So, Georgey-boy, I think we're alone now, there doesn't seem to be anyone around...
Mate, I've got to tell you, this war on drugs you're running, well, there's a lot of people unhappy about it. And, just for the record, I'm at least three of them," I'd tell him.
He would stand there in that special Presidential way, (drool actually flowing because his cheif-chin-wiper isn't in the room with us) and not understand me at all. His Texan drawl barely recognisable as English, he'd say; "Why, what ever can you mean suh? How, I say, how can you be three people Mr hippie suh?"
"Well Georgey, it's easy, even for a prat like yourself. Listen, first and foremost, I am a recreational cannabis user. I smoke pot Georgey-boy, and mate, I bloody inhale as much as I can every time. And you know what? I've never started a war with anybody, let alone over half my own country-men at the same time as fighting half the world, whilst claiming the moral high-ground.
I reject your choice of legal alcohol and illicit cannabis, the monopoly on mind altering is unacceptable.
Are you with me so far Georgey-boy?"
Knowing full well he wont be, his mind is still wondering whether I've noticed his supremely retarded drooling, I continue on regardless, right over the top of his "Huh?" acknowledgement of the question.
"Good, now secondly Georgey, I am a medicinal cannabis user. For reasons I wont go into today, and reasons you aren't bloody interested in anyhow, I actually need cannabis for legitimate medical reasons. There are cannabis growing co-operatives all over America, indeed all over the world, whose sole aim is to provide the best available medicine.
You need to end the vexatious prosecution and harrassment of these people. Today Georgey, not next Thursday, or even after lunch, here, sign this."
I'd hand him a prepared Executive Order requiring only his signature and seal to make it law, and of course, he would sign purely because I'm such an affable bastard.
"Now, mate, one last thing. I am a citizen of this planet, I have just as much right to rape pillage and plunder the environment as you, not the opportunity or desire, but I have the same rights to do that as you.
How about you do the decent thing now that you and your mob are rich enough, how about you do the decent thing and at least let the farmers grow some hemp so it and its products can be developed for when your precious oil runs out? Peak oil Georgey, it's a reality."
I imagine this would take me about ten minutes, what with the bong packing going on as well, and by this time his cheif-chin-wiper would know the presidential-face-diaper would be just about full from the constant stream of IDIOT-DROOL flowing discreetly from the corner of his mouth.
The doors would kick-in just as the President handed me back the bong for the third time, the guns would all be pointed at my head in the traditional intimidatory way of LEO's everywhere.
"Hey guys, thas hippie, he orright, jus chill, k?" would be more than what he'd say, it would mean the dawn of a new era of civilisation...
Mate, I've got to tell you, this war on drugs you're running, well, there's a lot of people unhappy about it. And, just for the record, I'm at least three of them," I'd tell him.
He would stand there in that special Presidential way, (drool actually flowing because his cheif-chin-wiper isn't in the room with us) and not understand me at all. His Texan drawl barely recognisable as English, he'd say; "Why, what ever can you mean suh? How, I say, how can you be three people Mr hippie suh?"
"Well Georgey, it's easy, even for a prat like yourself. Listen, first and foremost, I am a recreational cannabis user. I smoke pot Georgey-boy, and mate, I bloody inhale as much as I can every time. And you know what? I've never started a war with anybody, let alone over half my own country-men at the same time as fighting half the world, whilst claiming the moral high-ground.
I reject your choice of legal alcohol and illicit cannabis, the monopoly on mind altering is unacceptable.
Are you with me so far Georgey-boy?"
Knowing full well he wont be, his mind is still wondering whether I've noticed his supremely retarded drooling, I continue on regardless, right over the top of his "Huh?" acknowledgement of the question.
"Good, now secondly Georgey, I am a medicinal cannabis user. For reasons I wont go into today, and reasons you aren't bloody interested in anyhow, I actually need cannabis for legitimate medical reasons. There are cannabis growing co-operatives all over America, indeed all over the world, whose sole aim is to provide the best available medicine.
You need to end the vexatious prosecution and harrassment of these people. Today Georgey, not next Thursday, or even after lunch, here, sign this."
I'd hand him a prepared Executive Order requiring only his signature and seal to make it law, and of course, he would sign purely because I'm such an affable bastard.
"Now, mate, one last thing. I am a citizen of this planet, I have just as much right to rape pillage and plunder the environment as you, not the opportunity or desire, but I have the same rights to do that as you.
How about you do the decent thing now that you and your mob are rich enough, how about you do the decent thing and at least let the farmers grow some hemp so it and its products can be developed for when your precious oil runs out? Peak oil Georgey, it's a reality."
I imagine this would take me about ten minutes, what with the bong packing going on as well, and by this time his cheif-chin-wiper would know the presidential-face-diaper would be just about full from the constant stream of IDIOT-DROOL flowing discreetly from the corner of his mouth.
The doors would kick-in just as the President handed me back the bong for the third time, the guns would all be pointed at my head in the traditional intimidatory way of LEO's everywhere.
"Hey guys, thas hippie, he orright, jus chill, k?" would be more than what he'd say, it would mean the dawn of a new era of civilisation...