Drugs = Hobo Clowns

Do you ever wish that the thoughts you had when you were stoned would be remembered when you were lucid? Me too. The other night I was at that comfortable and self-enlightening stage of highness.

I was watching television and I remember that every single thought I was having was brilliant and of incredible importance. I was probably watching commercials (they thrill me) and I made a realization that led to an incredible discovery. What could a McDonald's commercial plus a Heroes promo equal? Hmm... I don't know know either. Big Macs give you superpowers?

Usually when I do drugs I try to force myself to write my brilliant thoughts down but something always seems to grab my attention. It's most often the television (how can anyone resist TMN on demand?) or sometimes it's a book (with great patience I managed to finish a chapter of "But is it art?"). What really makes me procrastinate though is my own mind. I was watching "Tenacious D: The Pick of Destiny" and I could not concentrate on the music or hilarious jokes for the life of me. I kept thinking of insane concepts and worst case scenarios.

I was alone in the house and thought about what I would do if some hobo came up to the back door and demanded to be let in. I thought,"Oh, I'll be able to shuffle over to the phone and call the police." Or, more simply, I thought, "I'll just refuse him entry." But then, I began to think more realistically. This hobo is no vampire, he could come in if he wanted to. This is when extreme paranoia and fear sets in. Truthfully, I think I'd be too scared to get up from the couch to reach the phone especially now that my vision has replaced my kindly hobo's face with that of a clown. AND, he's tapping the glass door with a butcher knife already laced with blood! Shiiiiiit. And so on and so ad infinitum.

This is how my mind works. By the time I caught myself out of that whirlpool the movie was over.