Mary Jane Watson

A topic of great concern for many people on Earth is my stance on the use of marijuana. Let me start off by saying that any substance that is referred to as Jesus’ Grass should automatically lead to my being showered in boobs or some other equally valuable reward (there isn’t one). Keep that in mind next time the words begin to dribble from your mouth. I will be waiting.

People also want to know if I use it…as if I find some quiet cloud and drift into a daze of mellow laziness and Cheetos cravings and watch as the world turns into a spinning ball of shit. As if I have nothing better to do than smoke foliage and create some bizarre culinary concoction like spaghetti and weed balls. Do I look like a fucking hippie? Scratch that…I do often look like a fucking hippie.

I fucking hate hippies…

To answer the question, I do not partake in the use of marijuana. In fact, I often wonder what genius originally decided that he should gather that particular plant and find out if it would make him high and useless. Was life that boring then? Why not crumble up some barbecue ribs while we’re at it? That sounds much more appealing to me. Maybe it makes some people more productive, and it is their carefree attitude and stupid faces that bother me. I can never tell anymore.

Truth be told, I did smoke weed once in the Middle Ages. Unfortunately, it led to a little-known catastrophe known as the Merlin Assault.

You see, my children…it was a treacherous time, and Merlin was a very prominent friend and adviser to many kings in northern Europe. He had perfected his magical abilities and had figured out how to manipulate the world’s leaders with his Jedi mind tricks and seductive eyebrows.

A little-known ruler, King Bumbleturd, named Merlin as his chief adviser in all matters of politics, religion, and sex. This was the beginning of the most chaotic time since the great Ewok plague of 1257. King Bumbleturd was a weak man, and easily manipulated by powers of Merlin. It was not long before the king could not make any decisions without consulting the wizard, and Merlin soon took control of the crown.

Merlin became a cruel dictator and ruled the kingdom with an iron staff. He raised the prices of raisins and quilted toilet paper. He banned all nipples from existence. He punished naysayers by turning them into squirrels and setting them free near fat, excessively-horny females. The kingdom was in turmoil!

He soon set up death camps in order to execute lovers of cute, furry animals and declared war on the entire free world. Meanwhile, it was my era of experimentation, and I was hanging upside down from a great fig tree. I was so high, I thought I was camping in a dragonfly’s anus. It was the mellowest experience of my life, and all I wanted to do was eat crackers and stare at stuff. I was contemplating my existence, and I could feel how big I was in a small world. I was like…a god or something.

That was when all hell broke loose. This is figurative, of course. My dad and Satan were on good terms during this period. This was mostly because Dad was on vacation in Nirvana and they didn’t have to deal with each other. The truce ended when my dad accidentally sat on Satan’s pet roly poly. They haven’t been on good terms since.

Merlin, upset with the world, wanted to destroy it and begin anew. He unleashed a fart so monstrous it threatened the very future of humankind. A cloud of gas swept across the land, stealing the air from everything in its path. There was no time for preventative measures, and bodies were soon piled up in twenty foot stacks of smelly death. Children attempted to take refuge in the wombs of fat women, but they found that they were no safer within those cavernous loins.  No one could be saved.

The world was in shambles and I could do nothing because I was high on the greatest marijuana ever produced, as it was laced with pirate urine. I was playing a crazy game of Twister with a talking panda named Tupac, and my fingers tasted like teriyaki. I froze in fear as I observed a thick cloud of farticles rolling towards me from the horizon. I ran for open air, followed quickly by the shroud of death. A child was standing in my way and I decided that he should be sacrificed to the smelly fog. It did not please the fart.

I ran for my life up a hill and the fart followed. I was so high I had forgotten a very important fact. I was Jesus, and I could stop farticles. I suddenly could not remember where I was. Was I at a strip hut? A tattoo cottage? A pizza shack? I was very hungry…

The fart began to engulf me, robbing me of my oxygen. As I gasped for one last breath, the high wore off and I regained my wits. I created a windstorm and blew the farticles to Africa where they could rampage freely in a land where no one would care. I later found out that Africa became a giant desert, plagued by disease. Now you see the power of very bad gas.

I found Merlin masturbating to a wall drawing of a Velociraptor riding a shark and an unquenchable thirst for vengeful violence welled up inside me. He had fucked up my first high, so I decided to eat him with creamed corn. The world was safe again.

If I had not been so high, I could have plugged Merlin’s ass with my sandal before he did any damage. I never smoked pot or did any drugs again. But really, I don’t need drugs to have a good time. I can have sex with any woman I want. I make Tiger Woods look like a bitch.

I will not say that you should not partake in such activities if you choose, but if you get high and end up drowning in a sea of ass death, or you get eaten by zombies or Japanese people, don’t come bitching to me. Survival tactics, my children! Taste the sweet teat of Darwin! Be enlightened.

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