Postcript to February 13, 2015
So the same two LAPD detectives on that same
Sunday morning ambled down the hall and did a
knock knock knock on my neighbor’s door.
Still in his underwear, he inched open the
door and stuck out his head.
All the while he was assuring the cops he
knew nothing of the incident about which they
inquired, he reports he could feel the heavy
smoke from his morning bong spilling out and
spreading into tendrils twining round the
detectives’ ankles.
After a few pungent minutes, they left. With
no comment whatsoever.
And these were the same two who thought about
taking a piece of my art into custody?
WTF is that?
Tags: So art is a clear and present danger,
but acrid pot is not?
Forget religion, the opiate of the masses is weed.
And the opiate of the cops? Has anyone figured that
out?
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